by Steve Shear
“What the fuck?” Rousseau stared into the HS-Screen wondering what the hell they were doing. In the meantime, she saw the drone coming back around behind the stalled Speedster. Closer, closer, dropping, dropping. Rousseau was so close she could practically pee into the greenish-blue mist that would witness Oliver’s final demise.
****
With the Speedster dead still, Meta looked back at the drone, then at her companion. “This could be dicey,” she declared just as rockets rained down on them. Not only could they hear the explosions to their left and right, but they were so close they could feel the ground vibrate their cushion of air. All of a sudden Hitch felt the back of his seat give him a huge kick between the shoulder blades as Meta floored the Speedster. Within seconds they were straddling the railroad tracks doing 225km/h as the explosions behind them caught up.
Less than a mile up the tracks a tunnel popped into view. “What the fu—” Whoosh. Everything went black. The Speedster raced out of the tunnel and into a thick forest, invisible from both protolytes and drones.
****
As soon as Hitchcock disappeared in the tunnel, No Data began blinking on Rousseau’s HS-Screen. “Damn it! Damn it!”
She hurled an empty tin coffee cup across the room just as Oedipus entered. He ducked. Smack. It bounced off the wall and onto the floor. “Why can’t anybody make a decent product?”
“Wat?”
“This damn Blue Cube. You’d think it could see through a fucking forest. What the hell good is it if anyone can hide from it by standing under a shittin’ tree?”
“So wat do we do now?”
“We find out who in the hell that woman is, that’s what!”
Oedipus nodded and left Rousseau searching the area for Oliver Hitchcock, without success. In frustration, she turned the Blue Cube off just as Oedipus reappeared.
“Some olt German guy eer. Calls eemself, Herr Volkmar.”
“Never heard of him.”
“I’ll get reet of eem.”
“Do that.”
Oedipus turned to leave. “Sometin ’bout a proposal…ant Elana Wu.”
Rousseau did an about-face. “Elana Wu?”
“Yeah.”
“Bring him in.” Rousseau quickly wheeled the Blue Cube in a corner and covered it with a blanket.
Oedipus led an elderly gentleman in. Without being asked, he sat himself down in Rousseau’s favorite chair, put one leg over another, and pushed back as if he were making himself comfortable in his own study. Right away that pissed her off just enough to bite her tongue. She would teach this old fart whose office he was in but first needed to know his connection with Elana Wu.
****
Meta DeCarlo’s Speedster pulled under an overhang adjacent to a two-story stone home surrounded by a vineyard and trees sufficiently dense to guarantee privacy. Two levels of outdoor stone steps led up to a porch along both the side and back of the house. Meta led her guest up the stairs and onto the porch where he could just see the piazza in Greve over the vineyard and trees.
“Welcome to my home, Mr. Hitchcock.”
“Oliver… You are certainly wicked behind the wheel.”
Meta grinned. “Necessity is the mother of reckless driving, I’m afraid.”
“Reckless? I’d say reckless would have been letting those rockets explode in our back seat, Meta. May I call you…”
“Yes, please, just Meta.”
****
Oedipus stood by the door as Rousseau sat across from Herr Volkmar, still sitting comfortably in her favorite chair. She seethed but managed to laugh nevertheless as a bag of white powder hung down from one hand.
“You may be a friend of Dr. Wu, Herr Volkmar, but you see we have no choice. We have to make sure she is no longer a menace to the good citizens of this country. And since she is a Chinese citizen…”
“Are you done?” the old man said in a drawn-out German accent before Rousseau could finish her thought.
“Done? I’m just getting started.” This time she didn’t laugh.
“I think not. You see, as we speak, Dr. Wu is now in my custody.”
The old man’s penetrating glare convinced Rousseau he was serious.
“Check it out,” he continued and sat up as if he were about to depart. Rousseau wanted to shove her fist between his eyes and rip off his large German nose but once again bit her tongue. She nodded to Oedipus who stepped out while Herr Volkmar smirked in her direction. She glared back with the intention of killing the bastard any moment.
Oedipus returned and merely shrugged. Rousseau went weak in the knees and flush in the face. She didn’t need a mirror to feel it. Nevertheless, she managed to gain her composure.
“Now for my proposal. You will call off any attempts by VAMA to harm Oliver Hitchcock, Dr. Wu, Barnaby Bloom, and anyone else assisting them.”
She began laughing uncontrollably. She couldn’t help herself. “And why in the hell would I do that?”
The old man stood and stepped toward Rousseau, close enough that she could feel his breath. “Because if anything happens to them, I’ll give the order to tear out that black heart of yours and have it rot in the vacant cell below.” He smiled and started to walk out. “Oh, one other thing. Don’t bother following Hitchcock or the others with the blue toy you’re hiding. I’ve had the signal scrambled.”
Herr Volkmar scooted past Rousseau, picked up the tin cup she had thrown at Oedipus earlier, and handed it to him.
****
Yennie Tawahada sat comfortably on the couch in his office, having just clicked off his scud.
“Well?” Dillon Burber asked standing in the doorway.
“You can tell President Wainwright that Oliver Hitchcock is with Meta now. They are just about to have lunch together.”
“And Elana Wu?”
“I’m afraid she’s still missing, at least that’s what Meta was told by Mr. Hitchcock.”
“All right, but keep me posted.” Before Yennie could respond, Dillon was gone.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Meta DeCarlo led Oliver Hitchcock into the den from the dining room after a lengthy lunch, each carrying a glass of wine. Meta took a seat on the sofa and motioned Oliver to sit next to her. A computation shell sat on the table across from both of them.
“I’m afraid it’s true. The rapidly changing discolorations on his V-Mark confirm it, and he’s heard the Click more than once and…” Oliver’s scud rang. He pulled it out from a pocket. “Speaking of that, this is my daughter. Excuse me please.” He jumped from the couch, walked onto the porch, and answered in visual mode. Hitch saw immediately how distressed and weepy she was. She leaned against the opened door of Christopher’s hospital room. Christopher lay in a bed behind her.
“It’s Christopher. I’m here at the hospital, he’s been admitted. I’m…”
“What? Already?”
“I need you here. Now, Dad, I…”
“You know I can’t do that, Kitten.”
“Yes you can.”
“You expect me to just stop and…”
“Of course not. Off playing spy games. You were never there for me when I…”
“That’s not fair, Kathy. You know what I’m doing here. It’s for…”
“You want me to believe this crap about black Jews in India? Some mysterious woman in Italy. What’s this have to do with Christopher?”
“Everything.”
“No! It’s about you. It’s always about you.”
“Kathy, you don’t understand.”
“Oh, don’t I?”
She clicked off. “Kathy? Kitten.”
Hitch took a deep breath and held it until he could gain his composure. He walked back to the den carrying a smile and an overall demeanor incongruous with the hurt that rumbled within. He returned to the couch next to Meta. “As I was saying, Christopher and the others need the antidote, and for reasons I don’t understand Dr. Wu needs a large group of people who haven’t been vaccinated.”
Meta shook her head. “What your Christopher needs, Oliver, is DanSheba. I’ve waited all these years to avenge the death of my great, great granduncle Jonathan, all because of Innocent’s Smotecal Decretum. And now it appears I will be getting a lot more.”
“Decretum?”
Meta laughed. “The ever so secret Smotecal Decretum issued by Supreme Minister Innocent II, but there’s more. For now, take this. It shows Jonathan’s involvement.” She handed him a memory stick. He looked at it, wondering what he was going to discover.
“Dr. Wu is right, of course. It’s all there. We need her and the Cause in DanSheba. And please bring your daughter and Christopher. It truly is his only chance.”
As soon as Hitch returned to his hotel in Florence well after dark, by bus so as not be noticed, he plugged the memory stick into a port in his scud. During the next forty-five minutes he came to know Jonathan DeCarlo and how he accidentally learned about the Smotecal Decretum. He learned how it caused Jonathan to lose his life, presumably. From what Hitch now knew, the Church of the Ecclesia voted against the rest of the Cūtocracy, although he couldn’t guess what the vote was about. Only later would he understand why the so-called Smotecal Decretum was so important.
Just as he began to think more about that, his scud rang. It was Julian. “Well, my friend, give me good news. Without Elana, I’ve got nothing.”
“Like the old days, Oliver. Dr. Wu won’t be going to China after all. Your old flame, Rousseau, on the other hand probably wishes she were.”
“Ha! Would love to have been there. Where did they have her, and how did you pull it off?”
Julian laughed. “Rousseau had her in a VAMA cell below her office. How I pulled it off is my trade secret. However, I will tell you that my disguise was a masterpiece. Hopefully, the good frau will have many nightmares about German spies interrupting her sleep.” He laughed again. “So, tell me where and when I need to deliver her. What about your plans?”
“No details yet, but I know I’ll need her before we leave for DanSheba, wherever in the hell that is. I’ll explain later.” Hitch clicked off and resumed the saga of Jonathan DeCarlo. The last thing on the memory stick was Jonathan’s voice, quite possibly the last words he ever spoke.
“And so, Juliette, my dearest sister, it will be up to you to make sure the world knows what’s going on here. I did not intend to participate in mass genocide. You must believe…”
Jonathan ended his plea abruptly, as if he were interrupted, never to be heard from again.
Time to go home, Hitch thought as he looked around his hotel room. It was an event filled week. He wasn’t sure what to make of Meta DeCarlo or her invitation to DanSheba, and what could she have possibly meant when she said Christopher’s only chance was to go there. Wherever there was. As he started pulling his things together, he received another call. He stared at the screen as a questioning frown spread across his face, than clicked it on.
“Dr. Delahunt? Ralph?” Hitch dropped onto the edge of the bed and put him on screen view.
“Oliver, I’m truly sorry for bothering you but…” Dr. Delahunt hesitated. Hitch saw him look around as if he were worried someone might be listening.
“Ralph, what is it?”
“Oh! I’m sorry. I just wanted to make sure your daughter had not returned. She went to the cafeteria for a bite to eat. We need to talk. Is this a good time?”
“Of course. Any time’s a good time when it comes to Christopher. I assume that is what this is about.”
“Yes, yes it is. You see, Oliver, it’s only a matter of weeks, two or three at most. I’m afraid I don’t know how to break that to Kathy. I’m afraid she’s under an illusion that it’s just not going to happen. I thought…”
“Ralph, now listen to me. I will need those three weeks. There is a plan. We are getting close. I can’t explain to you right now what it is but you must do everything you can now, I mean today, to make sure Christopher will be able to travel and will last out those three weeks. Do you understand?”
“Yes, but where…”
Hitch jumped up and began to march across the room. He took large, nervous strides. “Again, no time to explain, but I will be having a Professor Barnaby Bloom come to the hospital. He will explain our plan to you and Kathy. Now listen to me, Ralph. This is critical if we are going to save my grandson. When you hear the plan you are going to think it’s insane, as will Kathy, especially Kathy. No matter what, I need you to stay calm and support the plan. Do you understand?”
Hitch saw how confusing this was to Delahunt. “Please, Ralph, can you do that for me?”
“Unfortunately, I see no other plans in the horizon. But…”
“No buts. I have to go. Now please make sure Kathy listens to Professor Bloom.”
Hitch clicked off realizing he wasn’t going anywhere for now. He planned to wait until he got home to discuss everything he had learned from Meta along with her “invitation” with both Kathy and Barnaby. That couldn’t wait. Unfortunately, the clocks were ticking, Christopher’s and theirs. He picked up his scud and called the professor. They talked for more than an hour, first Hitch filling him in, and second making plans to go to DanSheba. Barnaby indicated he would meet with Kathy right away.
Hitch then called Meta and told her about his discussion with Dr. Delahunt. Her response was immediate and decisive.
“In that case, we all must leave for DanSheba right away and, Oliver, just remember it is critical that Dr. Wu be there.”
“There is where?” Hitch asked. He needed details and she provided them, as if they had been made and memorized long before he called. He was dumbfounded. This DanSheba couldn’t be for real, not the way she described it. What had he expected, a luxury health clinic in the heart of Minnesota. For the life of him, he couldn’t wrap his arms around the idea. India? The jungle? A village? A state-of-the-art hospital and research center? How in the hell was he going to wrap himself around all that? How was he going to wrap Kathy around it?
Jesus, Elana! He had to reach Julian. He tried several times and only succeeded the following morning after a sleepless night. He relayed the plan to his CIA buddy and let him know exactly when and where he was to bring Elana.
“And Julian, keep in mind that VAMA is everywhere. We can’t afford to lose her.”
“We will arrive incognito but we will arrive, my friend,” Julian promised.
After clicking off, Hitch began packing up. In doing so, he discovered the book he took from the Jewish School of Learning, The First Coming. He stopped and stared at it. Who were these people who waited centuries for the Messiah? How did a whole village manage to avoid the long arm of VAMA? A state-of-the-art hospital?
“Jesus! I need a drink!”
Chapter Twenty-Six
There was much to do. It had been a while since Meta visited DanSheba. She wasn’t sure how long it would be before she returned to Greve. Her essentials were out and ready to go. Everything else was packed away. Now she had to sit down and contemplate the future.
DanSheba! She thought about the tiny village with deep satisfaction; its history over thousands of years rich with tradition and mythological hyperbole. From the beginning, it was first and foremost the place that would receive the legitimate Coming, the Messiah, with all his humanity intact. No one who understood the Old Testament believed the Messiah would be any more than a mortal being blessed with the gift of spiritual and battle-ready leadership, and the ear of the Almighty. It was sometime in the twenty-first century when the village supposedly received him, at least that was the story told by the villagers around the tall pole in the square. Whether the Messiah really did come, Meta could not say.
What she could say with a smile wider than the Arno River was that her Messiah was coming. Elana Wu would bring sufficient expertise to destroy the Click as surely as the earlier Messiah would have addressed, or did address, the myth of a divine Jesus described in the New Testament and the hope for life eternal in some celestial Garden of E
den.
She tried to think back to the first time she visited DanSheba. She couldn’t have been more than twelve. In early afternoon on a gloriously sunny day, she sat with her mother in a small corporate jet secretly owned by a DanSheban corporation. It flew south from Delhi toward Bangalore, the high-tech capital of India. Because the small jet could fly at a relatively low altitude, she had exceptional aerial views of the country’s jungled midsection. Somewhere between Nagpur and Hyderabad, Meta recalled being glued to her window and the terrain below. The sun appeared to fall to the earth and bounce back into her vision. A powerful glare disappeared before she could look away, as if it had been swallowed up by the jungle floor.
“Did you see that?” her mother asked.
She remembered nodding but didn’t know what it was she saw.
Her mother kissed her on the head. “That my darling is DanSheba. That is where you will be spending a good deal of your life and that is where you will learn both Hebrew and Amharic.”
The homes were modest, mostly stone and wood, and yet the technology that connected that tiny hidden village to the rest of humanity was the most sophisticated in the world. And yet there were no motorized vehicles. If the people wanted to get from one end of the village to the other, they either walked or rode a bicycle, or hailed a bicycle-powered taxi. Both extremes amazed Meta as she acclimated to her new surroundings that summer when she was twelve.
In addition to computation shells of all sizes and varieties and other digital gadgetry, there were books of every type—fiction and nonfiction, not necessarily the most current editions, but eventually they came. DanSheba could be described best as an intellectual community hidden within the long forgotten and mostly irrelevant underbelly of India, she thought years later. After all, its people had nothing else to do but read, argue, and spend money the village made on the Ethiopian diamond mines it owned. And much of that money was spent on travel the world over, education, and more recently a state of the art hospital and medical research facility. The facility was right there, within a tin can kicking distance from the main square and the tall pole that stood watch, the very same pole that the Messiah supposedly climbed up to reach the ear of God. DanShebans thrived everywhere in the world and it was from those places its people would bring back home the most recent technology, books, and ideas.