Descendant

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Descendant Page 21

by Jeffrey A. Levin


  The trip to Bone’s cavernous home is actually a lot more challenging than transporting our bodies into midair. The best part of the journey for me is holding Maya’s hand. Perhaps the worst part is prying open a skylight on the roof of Bone’s cave house. We have to shimmy around thirty-five feet down a rope to the next level, which is actually Bone’s bedroom. I can’t help but notice that Bone and Ezekial have the exact same method of sleep. Strange, huh?

  “Is it possible to sleep like a crazed bat?”

  “Only if you are a bat,” Bone snaps. “Word has it that you and bats are big buddies. Oh, oops, did I say something to hurt your feelings?”

  I remain quiet. What’s goin’ on? How does he know that Maya and I went into that cave? Who told him? I glance at Maya. No response. I mean, I was beginning to pick up on some lifestyle similarities between the two.

  Bone demonstrates his invisible bed, which consists of subatomic electrons and protons shooting around like vibrating vortices. Bone’s place is a little different from Zeke’s but no less unique. As I glance around, I notice that there are a few more tunnels that lead to the outside, all capped by solar panels. Yet even his solar panels have a weird camouflage tint to prevent discovery. He also has branches, leaves, and other paraphernalia forming the outer layer of the cave.

  “Can’t be too cautious,” Bone quips, looking like a hybrid between a mountain man and a time-traveling curmudgeon. Maya is busy looking at the art on the cave walls. There are strange carvings all over Bone’s house. I see elongated heads, odd-looking cylindrical aircraft, and a picture of a man shaking hands with an Egyptian pharaoh. It looks like Ezekial, though I know it can’t be. Strange, huh?

  Maya keeps staring at the art on the cave walls. One of the pictures seems to remind her of her great descendant the Red Queen.

  “This is Mexican, isn’t it?” she inquires.

  Bone sniffs. “Actually, it’s Mayan, honey. You’ve got to love the pictures of the grotesque heads.” He snickers. “Actually, I think Da Vinci had a hand in this one.”

  I stare at Maya, wondering if she is noticing anything peculiar about Bone’s demeanor.

  All the while, I keep thinking, something doesn’t add up. Who is Bone? To say he is profoundly paranoid is the understatement of the year. I know he isn’t telling us everything. I remember something my mother said to me once: “Things aren’t always as they appear.” Mom would turn out to be a soothsayer on that subject.

  “Let’s go down a little further; we may be able to talk more in secret—if you don’t mind.”

  We continue hiking through the catacombs of Bone’s labyrinthine cave. Thankfully, Bone holds up a bright lantern, signaling the way.

  “This place is amazing,” I whisper.

  “Got more to show you.” Bone smiles. “This is the easy part.”

  I stare at a long transparent slide ahead.

  “Don’t worry,” Bone utters. “Just have a little faith.” He jumps onto what appears to be nothing. We watch him whirl downward on an invisible quark slide, screaming all the way.

  “What the heck,” Maya says, grabbing my hand. We scream as we whirl around, moved by an invisible force, until we fly off and land on our keisters.

  “Fun, huh?” Bone says, helping to pick us up off the newfound ground. “The slide is made of pentaquarks—just high-energy particle accelerators. No biggie.”

  “It kind of reminds me of my journeys down the railing on the staircase in my own house,” I muse.

  “It’s a novelty item,” Bone says casually. “But it’s a lot of fun!”

  “What’s this for?” I ask, pointing at a nearby lever.

  “Pull it!” Bone cries.

  Maya and I watch as water rushes out of multiple sources, including a jet that sprays me until my body feels like a soggy rag.

  “This has been a tough day for you guys, hasn’t it?” Bone throws me a towel. “Your body will appreciate the spray,” he says with a wink.

  By now Maya is laughing hysterically; Bone winks at Maya, offering his support.

  I shake my head, attempting to dry off my hair.

  “You look like a shaggy dog,” Maya tells me. She dabs at my cheek. “You’re bleeding.”

  Bone pulls out a therapeutic LQ flex knife and holds it to my cheek. Maya and I just stare at the knife, which is glowing like a virile lantern. Bone waits until the light is strong and warm to the touch. “Don’t worry,” he says reassuringly. “The heat source adds some nutrients.” He places it to my cheek. “There! You had a sharp cut on your face. The mark is gone now.”

  Bone draws three peaches from his fruit tree, which curls like a hungry python toward a ceiling solar light. Placing the cut pieces on three plates, he says, “Here. You’ll never taste anything better.”

  Maya places one in her mouth, crunching on it as if it is a big, fat watermelon. “I’ve never tasted a peach this succulent before. What are these?”

  Bone gazes at his microgreen herbs. “These are interesting. These genetically modified herbs are grown from my microgarden.”

  “Microgarden?” Really?

  “Yes, everything in here is natural. These herbs are grown with an aged substance that is so powerful you don’t really need any water. Here! They’re quite tasty; have a bite.”

  As I glance around, I notice that all the food emits an interesting, rather bizarre smell. It isn’t a bad aroma, just an “off” scent similar to the one I remember smelling in Zeke’s house on the asteroid Gaspra.

  A moment of silence ensues; I stare into Bone’s eyes. After all, his eyes give off an aura.

  “Who are you?” I inquire. As I whisper, I see Maya turn around abruptly, as if I have interrupted her reverie.

  Bone smiles like a clandestine spy. He pushes a knob, sending a snakelike periscope, slithering like a cunning piece of extrapolated technology through a hidden aperture in the roof of the cylindrical cave.

  “I call this my Periscope Perilapsis Kit,” he says. “With this I can communicate with anyone in the universe.”

  “Anyone?” I say.

  “Yes, even my brother. I think you know him; His name is Ezekial.”

  For the second time in my young life, the lights go out in my head and my body slithers to the floor.

  CHAPTER 34

  August 7, 2378

  6:37 p.m.

  Watching them come and go

  The Templars and the Saracens

  They’re traveling thehold land

  Opening telegrams

  Torture comes and torture goes

  Knights who’d give you anything

  They bear the cross of Coeur de Leon

  Salvation for the mirror blind

  But, if you pray, all your sins are hooked

  upon the sky

  Pray and the heathen lie will disappearance

  Prayers they hid, the saddest view

  Believing the strangest things, loving the alien …

  —David Bowie (ancient lyricist)

  Images form in my head. People are walking like robots. I want to see their faces. I can’t. There is just a long parade of people. I see the bony back sides of their heads. Men and women are walking in cadence. Heels are crashing against the war-torn ground. Wait! I see a flash of someone’s face. No—just his eyes. Black! The people are marching on. Ba-doom! Ba-doom! It’s as if they are being controlled remotely. Can it be? Are they real?

  The impervious automatons keep walking—but toward what?

  More marching! More boots! More insufferable robotic cadence.

  I see those long fingernails again. I see something in her hand. A remote? Oh, c’mon. A remote? Whose remote? Why is there a remote? What the heck is going on?

  I see a chin. I see a nose. I see eyes. I see hair and ears.

  No!

  I scr
eam.

  It can’t be.

  The face is mine!

  I’m flailing. My body is moving. My eyes pop open. I see Maya. I see Bone. I hear my voice. This can’t be! This is real! This is no dream!

  Bone dips a grasshopper into some sort of concoction that looks like hummus. Then he scratches his head.

  “You’re right; that was no dream. Your brain has been hacked.

  “My brain—hacked?”

  Bone raises his eyebrows and pounds down some odd-looking smoky golden foamy liquid. “Yeah, Michael, wake up! I thought you were an Eisenstein. Your brain is composed of complex signals that can be tracked. I’m sure that your friend Victoria has been monitoring you since you left the planet Vorashia.”

  “Why me?”

  Bone pounds his glass to the counter. “Are you sure you want Maya to hear this?”

  I stare over at her. She nods.

  “The quickest answer is that you’re an Eisenstein. All Eisensteins pose a threat to the universe—especially her.”

  “Why especially her?”

  Bone shakes his head and strokes his beard. “Are you sure you want me to reveal everything now?”

  I stare at Maya. “She has to know the truth too,” I say.

  Bone sniffs at the air. “Your boyfriend is on his second rendezvous with life—you know, just like the Mayan legend. He’s come back from the dead, just like Copernicus said. Michael is a second generation of himself—human. He’s made from spare parts, DNA recreations, and a whole lot of genius from our friend Coppy.”

  Maya walks over to me and wraps her arms around me.

  “Thank you,” I say softly. I smell her perfume. All my senses come alive.

  “In his last life, Michael was goaded into doing a lot of things he didn’t want to do. And he made some enemies. He tried to kill Victoria Vorashian, but instead, she killed him.”

  Bone clears his throat. “The dream you had was a lucid experience. You’re right; it wasn’t a dream at all, but a warning. You’re a marked man, Michael.”

  “What about Bird Dog?” I inquire.

  “She’s all right. Don’t worry; she’s been workin’ as a double agent for Zeke and me for a long time. Honestly, it was no mistake that you ran into her on Vorashia. She was watching out for you—capiche?”

  “Now what?” I ask.

  Bone hits his temple again and then winces. “He’s coming.”

  “Who’s coming?”

  Bone shakes his head. “You sure you guys want to play 007 with me?”

  I stare at Maya. Her hands tug at my sleeves. I can almost hear her thoughts. She wants to know if everything is going to be all right. You know, just like the movies.

  “This is no place for children’s games. Do you guys understand? You’re a marked man.”

  I stare into Maya’s eyes. They’re strong, willing, and courageous.

  “I don’t have a choice, do I?” I ask. “Does Zeke know about this?”

  Bone smiles, placing his large hand on my shoulder. “He recommended you. What do you think?”

  “If Zeke needs me, I’m in.”

  Bone smiles. “Welcome aboard. But you two have to know that there’s a lot of evil all over the world. People on this planet are going to have a rude awakening soon if they don’t figure out what they’re up against.”

  “What do you mean, Bone?” Maya inquires.

  “I mean like turning our whole civilization into Victoria’s game show! Didn’t Zeke tell you? Victoria and I go way back. She’d like nothing other than to turn me into a huge pinball. You know—Bing! Bing! Bing! Got it?”

  “You’re serious,” Maya says.

  “As serious as a heart attack!”

  I watch Bone pace around the kitchen, appearing rather agitated. He continues glancing around as if spies, secret drones, and demons are all around him.

  “But that’s not going to be our present mission,” he finally states.

  “Exactly what is our mission impossible?” I inquire.

  “Humph! I like that. “Your mission—if you decide to accept it—is …”

  Bone stares into our eyes. He looks like a futuristic Columbo as he nods, flashing his old familiar smile.

  “Dulce,” he says. “Yeah, that’s it. Dulce, man.”

  Maya and I stare at one another.

  “It needs to be infiltrated. You need to find out what’s going on with Zarri. You need to report back to me and let me know if you think there’s going to be an uprising. And, lastly, you need to tell me if your own father is a part of this mess. Got it?”

  “My father?”

  Bone laughs. “Is that the part you think is strange? Listen, man, you’re going to go in with that new extended mind of yours so you don’t get detected. You’re going to report back to me about the most fucked-up place on Earth. I want a total report: Who’s there? What are they doing? Is Zarri planning an uprising? So get focused and bring your A game. Got it, Eisenstein?”

  “Anything else?”

  “Yeah, don’t mess up! And by the way, we’re going to watch a quark movie before you go in.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, take a look at this guy.” Bone hits his temple again, and a picture of a dark, sharp-looking man with glasses appears in midair right in front of me. “His name is Barundi Udina. He’s the guy who’s largely responsible for the clientele down in that hellhole called Dulce! We’ve been herding ETs into that Dulce compound under the mountains for centuries. It’s where we keep them all! You’ve heard of the disappearances and abductions going on in Alaska, right? For centuries random people have been reporting high UFO activity in that area, and the government has been denying it all along. Quite a gig, right?”

  “Who’s down there?” Maya asks.

  “The reptilians from Andromeda, the grays, and some of the others living under the oceans in biospheres and in the Andes Mountains. Damn, we even have a colony of ETs from the planet Ceres. Those pinheads are the worst! We’ve got ’em all.”

  “What? And what about Zarri, the reptilian?” I ask.

  “He’s in trouble! He’s the ringleader down in the hole. They’re probably interrogating him right now. Problem is, Zarri has likely wired home for help—and that ain’t good!”

  “So you want to know if Zarri is revealing anything to people like my father.”

  Bone nods. “I also want to know if Zarri has any counterespionage plans with his home planet, Andromeda—and even if Victoria Vorashian is working with him. Understand? It’s all very complicated. You get that, right?”

  Bone remains perfectly still, allowing the eerie stillness to pervade the silence. I stand there wallowing in my own fear, waiting for someone to rescue me. Yet that person doesn’t come. I stare at the picture before me.

  “I’ve made a little quark movie—you know, the same kind your dad uses in his own little espionage encounters,” says Bone. “I want you to watch it—watch Barundi—so you’ll know who you’re dealing with. When you’re done, make sure you dispose of the tape. By the way, Barundi’s agent name is Crossbow.

  “Got it. Then what?”

  “Then you’re going in! Are you ready, chief?”

  CHAPTER 35

  August 7, 2378

  6:42:42.566 p.m.

  “You need to look at this guys,” Bone utters. “There are times when reality isn’t pretty.” I want you guys to meet someone who is a threat to all of us. His name is Barundi Udina.” Bone nods at me, “Let’s check this guy out.” I hit play.

  The man enters the high-risk retainer platform as though he is an elite gymnast performing a balancing act on a high, swaying tightrope. After all, he is not a man well known to the real government; he is known almost exclusively to the subterranean shadow regime living somewhere between the wind and the rain. It is only people like
the minister of defense, Tobias Sunderlin, and some of his cronies who vaguely know about his existence. His code name is Crossbow. He is a man who specializes in the art of secrecy—a man who protects the public from truth while sealing top secret documents buried within concrete vaults. He smugly believes the country and its people are safe because of him. Perhaps reality is too terrible and must be hidden from view using complicated coded and encrypted cyphers.

  Yes, he is the man you never want to meet. He is, for all practical purposes, a ghost—a man living within the bowels of the earth, dealing with our planet’s best-kept secrets. Crossbow specializes in ghastly clandestine occurrences, which of course never really happen—at least not as far as the general public is concerned. After all, the surface world has been blissfully ignorant of the comings and goings of stealthy ETs for tens of thousands of years.

  His name is Barundi Udina. He is South African by birth. Other details of his origin are somewhat unknown. Mr. Udina can recite the genesis details of at least fifty-two types of extraterrestrials, including small, skulking grays; visceral, calculating reptilians from the Andromeda galaxy; and the Aleutians living near the Solomon Islands. Crossbow not only knows the various species, but when it comes to their captivity in the American Isles, he knows them by name as well. More importantly, Barundi prides himself on not taking any of their shit. Simply put, he is the man.

  Barundi’s job isn’t easy. Ultimate secrecy is foremost. People living in the American Isles never had much stomach for what truly transpired in the trenches. Dulce’s very existence is based on secrecy. The events taking place impact the world, and perhaps the universe, but the general public must be kept in the dark. If they really knew, culture as we know it—our complete way of life—would be in jeopardy.

  Barundi opens his copiously written dossier. His latest update wasn’t good. A prison uprising and the torture of a prominent reptilian named Zarri must be kept secret. Barundi has already brought in the Robotic Cyborg Guard (RCG). Under the rocks and sand of the Archeleta Desert, blood has been shed. ETs have been assassinated, drying up some extremely valuable resources. But Dulce is now contained, and order is established.

 

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