by David Sloma
The ship cast off at once, The Four and the captain on the lookout for any trouble at the pier, but there was none. It seemed they had gotten away just fine. The captain then went below deck and checked that his passengers were comfortable and had all they needed for the journey. Even The Four were able to relax a bit, knowing that all the crew on the ship were armed against pirates and anyone seen trying to intercept their ship that was not a government boat would be seen as a pirate.
Lang lay in his bunk and thought things through. He didn't expect that the government would try and stop the ship, if they even knew about it. He didn't even know which government for sure had the base he and the others had been held in. It could have been from any country, not just the physical country the base was located in, he knew. And, in these days of “globalism” the borders between countries and governments was quite blurred anyway. He took a brief nap before what the captain had promised to be a large dinner in their honour.
When dinnertime came, the captain was good to his word, putting his chef to good use—and the chef was a much more accomplished one than usually worked on a ship, the portly captain had seen to that! After dinner, the captain took everyone topside for a look at the sunset, drinks in hand, and cigars for who wanted them.
“To a great future!” the captain said and clinked glasses with them all.
“I'll drink to that!” Lang said. He noticed that the captain was careful not to speak about any details of their escape or capture out in the open, and he was glad of that. There were still a few crewmembers on the ship and not all of them were Guild members, but some were.
“How long will the trip take?” Charles asked, then puffed on his cigar, the smoke drifting out over the open ocean.
“About six days, should the weather hold. We're not built for speed, lady and gentlemen,” the captain said with a flourish and bowed, indicating the professor's wife Wendy.
“You've been sailing a long time?” Charles looked over the captain with his white hair and white beard.
“Most of my life, aye matey!” the captain boasted.
“Never fallen off the edge, yet, huh?”
The captain looked at Lang, then back to Charles. “No, have not. But, if you really want to see something...”
Lang burst in, “I thank you for your hospitality, captain. But, I need to have a conference with my scientists, here. We've fallen behind in our urgent work, as you know.”
“Certainly.” The captain straightened up, growing more sober.
“There's a secure computer and phone I can use?”
“My office has them, come, I'll show you.” The captain led them off the deck.
“Charles? Professor? Could you come meet with me, won't take long. Half an hour at most, just to get caught up with Prague and find out our next steps,” Lang said.
“Sure. Be back soon, honey,” the prof said and kissed his wife.
“Alright,” Charles said, following after them, puzzled at what the captain was going to say. They clanged down the metal steps to the below deck area of the ship, deep inside the hull.
The computer setup was the same in the captain's office as Lang had been used to: a military-grade laptop that was specially constructed to not only be impervious to physical harm like drops, water, vibrations, and dust, but imbued with sacred geometry symbols, crystals, and advanced spiritual technology.
“What’s all that stuff on the laptop?” Charles asked. “The other one you've had was the same. It looks pretty custom.”
“Yes,” Lang said, sitting down in front of the computer and touching it. “This is another very special machine. You won't find it on the open market.” The captain watched, smiling, and puffed on his cigar.
“Why's that?” Charles asked.
“It's very expensive for one, a military-special order that we were able to get through some connections. Once we get them we install our own custom operating system and encryption tools, plus security features on special chips. Then, we get into the etheric protections.”
“Etheric?”
“I don't have time to go into it all now,” Lang said, opening up the machine and having his fingerprint read by it. “Suffice to say it has to do with sacred geometry and spiritual energy, for now.” The machine turned on and prompted him for a code. “Please turn away while I enter the code.” The prof, Charles, and the caption all faced the other way. Lang entered the code. “Thank you.” They turned back.
Lang opened up some menus on the screen, connecting to Prague.
“I'll see you all in a bit,” the captain said. He waved and left the room.
“So, what’s with this computer?” Charles asked, still curious.
Lang patted the side of the computer. “This machine has not only hard, physical defenses against intrusion, but it has protection on the astral level, by way of these symbols that are on it. They are sacred geometry forms, and also forms of our own designs. We've also added certain crystals to it that have been programmed with certain protective thought forms.”
“Thought forms?” Charles looked closer.
“Yes,” Lang continued, “and also certain technology that contours the orgone energy field to our advantage, for our protection.”
“I'm not sure if I believe in all that stuff...” Charles said.
“This coming from the man who had his own astral travel experience back through time via his DNA and found evidence of alien tampering on the genetic level?” Lang smiled. “It's not easy to get used to these sorts of things when one has been brought up their entire lives to believe in something other. But I assure you, these things are very real, and we know how to work with them. If we get a chance after our work is done, I'll be happy to give you a course of instruction on all of these esoteric matters. But right now, we need to push forward with our work. Our enemies don't rest and neither can we.”
Charles and the prof looked at each other and shrugged, then looked back at Lang.
“So,” Lang said, reading a message on the screen, “it appears that Prague has been making good progress on our DNA repair mission.” He scrolled through a few screens, looking at charts and graphs. “Good, good!”
“What's it say?” the prof asked.
Lang spun around in the swivel office-type chair. “I think that we're in pretty good shape. The work both of you have done has advanced their understanding, but they have some questions for you. Sit down, we'll go over them, and I'll type your answers back to them.”
“You mean this thing doesn't just read your mind?” Charles grinned.
“Not yet, but maybe the next model!” Lang said. He spun back around to the screen.
Charles raised his eyebrows and looked at the prof again, not sure if Lang was joking or not. Thoughts of getting technology from aliens crossed Charles's mind, but he'd have to wait until another time to ask Lang about that one!
“So, when are they planning to start releasing the cure?” the prof asked.
“Cures,” Lang corrected him. “There is going to be a multi-phase approach. The one you are working on is going to be ready soon, they tell me. They want to know about certain protein binders...”
The meeting went on longer than anticipated, and by the time they were done, Wendy was already in bed in one of the cabins. The professor made his way inside and undressed as quietly as he could, but he needed to put a light on in the strange place.
Wendy stirred. “How'd it go?”
“Oh, sorry to wake you!”
“That's OK. I wasn't really sleeping anyway. Must be seasickness, or maybe something I ate.” She rubbed her stomach.
“They must have some pills for that around here. I'll go ask.” He started to button his shirt up again.
“No, it's fine. It's not that bad. So, what happened? I'm curious.”
“Well,” he said, sitting on the bed. “They've made some real progress in working out the cure. We answered some concerns they had, but really, I think they've got it about sewn up at this poin
t. I think we're just along for the backup crew, now.”
“But your work was very important to them, don't forget that.”
“Oh, I'm not. There's just not a lot for us to do right now. But, I guess if anything goes wrong we can lend a hand.”
“That's a better attitude.” Her face brightened.
He finished getting undressed and slid under the covers with her. “Are you sure you don't want me to get you anything?”
“Just you.” She hugged him. He reached out and shut off the light. They lay together in the dark, listening to the sounds of the big ship moving in the sea.
After a time, she asked, “What's going to happen when they let out the cure?”
“I'm not sure. It's going to be hard to get every person, and every plant, and animal with it at once, of course. I think they're going to start in one area and spread out from there. Eventually the species that are cured will reproduce and spread the cure to their offspring, so it will propagate that way. But they are also going to distribute the cure in different ways, I understand.”
“Like what?”
“Well, our cure is centered around actual physical interaction with the DNA and certain substances, so it will have to be put into the body somehow. This could be in water, in air, in food, in medicines—or all of those ways at once. But they are using more methods than that. Some kind of energy medicine that I don't quite understand yet, to do with frequencies...shooting the healing frequency into the subject's bioelectric field. It makes sense to me in theory, but I've yet to see it done. There are other things, too, which they are keeping to themselves. I wish they'd spill the beans!”
“I'm sure they will in time. They probably are just keeping things quiet to safeguard them from their enemies.”
“And we know those are real. I'm sorry I got you into this, lost our house, and everything...”
She touched his face with her hand. “It's alright. We can get those things back. This is a very important thing you are helping them with. I'm proud of you and wouldn't want you to give it up.”
“Thank you,” he said, and kissed her. Then they tried to get some sleep, which wasn't hard, as they were exhausted.
Lang stayed up late that night, alone, working on the computer, getting caught up on assembling the plans for the first stage of the cure.
He made several trips back and forth with his teacup to the kitchen of the ship, which had been left open for his use. There was some food for him to munch on too, some tasty leftovers from the chef. Lang stood in the kitchen under the fluorescent lights, holding open the door of the big fridge, taking out things to eat.
The captain came into the kitchen, startling him. “How goes?” the captain called out.
“Oh! You scared me!” Lang fumbled with the food in his hands, almost dropping it.
“Sorry! Midnight snack. Past midnight!” The captain checked his watch.
“I hope I haven't been keeping you up?” Lang had been worried that the office attached to the captain's state room would offer too little sound protection to be working in it while the captain slept, or tried to.
“No, no! That office is pretty sound proof,” the captain said, pouring himself some coffee.
Lang looked at the coffee pot. “Good. Won't that stuff keep you up? It's got to be a few hours old, at least!”
“Naw. Take more than that to keep this old captain from his rest. How's your work going?”
“Fine.” Lang sat down at one of the tables and let the food tumble out of his arms.
“Good chef, huh?” The captain pointed at one of the chocolate desserts that Lang had selected.
“Very good.” He dug into the dessert. “I need my energy. I've fallen behind with our plans.”
“Things are still on track?”
Lang nodded. “I think we'll be fine. The first window of opportunity is coming up, and with any luck, and no further major delays, we'll make it.”
“Good, and just in case you were going to tell me any more details, don't!” The captain looked around the room. “I have this place swept for bugs on a regular basis, but you never know.”
“I won't say another word about the details. Suffice to say that I'm very happy for your help. We really couldn't have done it without you.”
“Of course! Isn't that what being a Guild member is all about?”
“It is.” Lang smiled and held out his hand, and they shook.
CHAPTER 44
Charles woke up early the next day, feeling better than he had in a while, since this whole wild business had started. He thought it must have had something to do with the boat rocking him to sleep, or maybe it was just because they were away from everyone out on the sea and had a measure of safety.
He wasn't sure what it was, but it sure was good to get a good night's sleep again, he thought. He sipped at the coffee he'd brought up from the kitchen, and it was very good. The dawn was just about to break and the sky glowed with the coming sun's rays. Seabirds flew around, crying out, and he wished he had something to feed them. Have to remember to bring up some bread or something to toss to them, he thought. What a beautiful sight!
The boat cut through the calm water, and the sky was clear. It looked like it was going to be a great day. The sun rose above the water, a ball of fire, casting a reflection on the sea. Charles had never seen anything like it and wondered why not. Life's for living, he told himself; I need to do more of that, if I get out of this—no, when I get out of this!
Lang came up on the deck, coffee in hand, too. “Ah, great minds think alike!” Lang smiled.
“Good morning. Sure is lovely out here.”
“It is. It's important to enjoy these things in life, sunsets and sunrises. The things so many of us take for granted.”
Charles turned to him, amazed. “I was just thinking about that!”
“See, great minds do think alike.” Lang sipped his coffee.
“Must be.”
They didn't talk for a while, just listened to the hum of the engines and the water moving past the hull and the birds above.
“I wish all this was over so I could take a long vacation,” Lang said.
“You've been at it a long time?”
Lang nodded. “For decades now; most of my life. I first learned of what was going on in my late teens and joined the Guild in my mid-twenties. I didn't quite believe it at first, so it took me a while to join, and besides, I had other things to do like chase girls and go to rock concerts.” He smiled and Charles smiled with him.
“So, how did you come to...take things seriously?” Charles looked up to the control deck, seeing if anyone was listening to them. He was picking his words carefully, just in case.
“Oh, it's the classic hero's journey story, I guess.” Lang shrugged. “I didn't want to heed the call to adventure, or duty, or what-have-you. But, I kept having experiences that pushed me in the direction I was to take, so I looked into things more. And, the more I looked into what was really going on in the world, the more I wanted to know. Before long, I found myself obsessed with it all, and really, unable to function in the world as a regular cog in the wheel...”
“I know that feeling!” Charles laughed, with recognition.
“Yes. And so, I was seeking for something more, and then I found it; or rather, it found me.” Lang noticed a crewmember out on the top deck, looking at the sunrise. The crewmember waved to them. Lang waved back.
Lang lowered his voice and moved closer to Charles. “I think we shouldn't say too much more out here. This is a conversation to be continued in private.”
Charles nodded, saw the crewmember and smiled. “Yeah, I agree.” Lang was a bit paranoid, but so were all of those involved in Lang's group—and for good reason.
Lang moved inside, and Charles followed him, going to the kitchen where the scents of breakfast were wafting around.
It was during breakfast that the call came down below deck that there was trouble. The captain had settled in at the table w
ith Lang and his group, when the intercom went off.
“Damn!” the captain said, putting down his toast, of which he'd only taken the first bite. He jumped up and jabbed the button on the intercom. “Yes?”
“Captain, there's a situation out here. I think you'd better come up,” said the sailor on the intercom.
“What sort of situation? Can't you handle it? I'm just able to eat.”
“Well, captain, I dunno. It's a coast guard ship, and they are aside us now, saying they want to come aboard and do an inspection. Something about contraband.”
“Shit! Alright, I'll be right up!” He turned to those at the table.
“Problem?” Lang asked.
“No. Nothing to worry about folks, I'm sure it's just a misunderstanding! Happens from time to time!”
“Want us to come with you?” the leader of the Four asked.
“No, better stay out of sight,” the captain said. He stormed off.
“Should we be worried? I hope it's not because of us?” Wendy asked, looking around the table.
“No, I'm sure it's fine, like he said. All our papers are in order, if they want to look. Doesn't mean they might not try to hassle us, though,” Lang said.
On the deck, the captain excited into the morning sunshine to see a dour-faced man in a Coast Guard uniform standing in a small tugboat, way below the deck line of the freighter. There were several other men in Coast Guard uniforms on the tug, all carrying machine guns. The crew on the captain's freighter glanced down at the Coast Guards with looks of concern on their faces.
“Never mind, boys, I'll handle this,” the captain told them. He thought, Since when do these guys carry machine guns? Something doesn't look right.
He leaned over the railing and called down to the tug, “Good morning! What seems to be the problem, gentlemen?”
“Are you the captain?” the guard in front said. He looked to be the one in change.
“That's me.”