The Sword of Gabriel: Ten Days on Earth

by Tom Holloway

  Unfortunately Anthony is gone, not in the United States anyway. Maybe John Jacobs can find him another day.

  The Saber lights up, burners thrusting, heading for the hookup with the Cyclone, now close, only five hundred miles away. There is one more visit in New York, and the Cyclone will work well for that event.

  It is 6:00 a.m. It is time. I need to visit Mr. George Beagle, the oldest law partner at ninety-two years old, yet younger than me. I know him from the first day I hired the firm. He will have his son there, too, Mark Beagle. All the rest are gone, dead or retired. I need to talk to him, go over Anna’s new role in my trust; and John Jacobs’s new position. I need to meet some of the junior partners, although I have met some of them through the years. One in particular needs a reminder about confidentiality, as he was the FBI leak. I will meet all of them on the roof of their office building; pick them up there for a ride in the Cyclone. I smile and think, It will be exciting for them.

  I have a 7:00 a.m. appointment with the entire firm, all the partners. They are all fearful; I did not tell them the purpose of the meeting. George knows about the leak, as do all the partners. They know who it is. They are not sure what is going to happen to him, not sure about themselves, either. They are all on the roof of the building, eight partners, thinking this is bizarre, wondering about their wills, if their wives will miss them. Why did I ask them to meet me at seven o’clock on the roof? Will I throw them all off the roof or hopefully just the guy who fed the FBI information about me? Nobody talks as they wait for me to arrive. They are watching the sun come up, a wonderful thing normally.

  Of course the FBI is claiming they know nothing about me and that they never asked the law firm for information. The partners are on their own. And by the way, they told the firm the president has given me total immunity for whatever I do, including what I might do to the partners.

  By now the partners have a good idea who I am, an alien. They always suspected it, and since I am from another world it is terrifying to think about what I might do to them. Breaking their confidentiality about me after all these years was silly; I am their best client, one who has paid well and whom they knew to be scary. They know I have been busy in the last ten days; they read the papers, figured it out.

  Suddenly the wind kicks up. Even on a twenty-story building, a gusting wind is a concern. Then a thunderous, hot jet engine blasts right over their heads, and they feel the heated air blowing down on them. Trying to hang on, they are all swept up into the air, all screaming out, asking to be forgiven, please, they’re so sorry. They are suspended in the air by some force, and then they are thrust into some kind of massive opening, yet landing on their feet, a large hangar door closing behind them. It’s hard to see, and it’s silent, but they can tell they’re in a huge hanger. Their worst fear has come true: it really is an alien starship. It is miles long, as they saw a brief glimpse of it when flying up into the ship, two hundred feet up. Now it is mostly dark. They are in some kind of enormous hangar, like a runway, just a little light coming from the far end. They are all speechless, stunned by the surreal impossibility of all of it.

  I come out of nowhere. The light becomes brighter in the hangar, still a reddish dim, yet I am visible. They are all shocked, as I am young, even more than usual. I am not more than thirty, yet they know George has known me for almost sixty years. They all wonder if I am immortal. Now that they know for sure I am an alien, anything is possible.

  I laugh. “It’s OK. You all look like you have seen a ghost. You don’t need to be afraid. It’s good to see you. You will be fine, just wanted to give you a starship ride. It is not easy to board a starship; power beams are the safest way. Since you have been my trusted law firm for so many years, I thought you were due for a little excitement. Consider it a bonus. We also need to get to know one another better.”

  “Please follow me. Hold on, as we will lose gravity soon. Use the handholds. We’re going up to the captain’s bridge, where you will see us circle the moon and slingshot back at five hundred thousand miles an hour. You are aboard the Consortium starship the Cyclone. You will be back in your offices in about two hours—plenty of time for us to talk business.”

  After we are all strapped down into the big seats on the bridge, plasma screens light up, and the world around us is all visible. The Earth is there in all its majesty, shining in the sun’s benevolence. The Cyclone is already accelerating through the upper atmosphere, two hundred miles from Earth, moving fast, hitting one hundred thousand miles an hour in the next three minutes. The Earth quickly becomes small as the Cyclone heads toward the moon. The attorneys are spellbound, still unnerved, emotions high, astounded by the experience.

  I say, “You are welcome to watch the voyage. I will do all the talking for now.” Looking at them, I see they all are watching me, a lot of anxiety in their facial expressions.

  “First order of business is the FBI leak by Mike Sanderson. Mike, you need to talk. Give me your reasons, why you did what you did. Be clear. Be totally honest. Your partners need to know, too.”

  Mike Sanderson is terrified of being called out and can hardly talk. Finally, in a quivering, breaking voice, he says, “Mr. Johnson, please, I am so sorry. It was intimidation by the FBI. They told me it was national security, said I could go to jail on conspiracy charges. I told no one, none of my partners, as I did not want them to be in the same fix. It was bad enough for me. Please punish me only; I am the only one guilty. I should have told you. It was a breach of my legal duty to you. For what it’s worth, I have children and a wife. I am so sorry. I beg your forgiveness!”

  “Mike, no problem. You are fine. Nothing is going to happen to you. Don’t do it again, though! Stay firm no matter who pressures you. You have access to me; use the laser beacon if necessary. You have John Jacobs, too; he is now an employee, as was discussed by Mr. Beagle previously. He represents me, and he has resources you do not have. He can bring you some government help, too. That’s it. George and I need to talk. Thanks for your honesty. George, and Mark, too, please come with me.”

  Mark easily moves along, as he is much younger, grabbing handholds. George also pulls himself along and is having issues because of the lack of gravity; I reach out and pull him along. We are in my cabin quickly.

  I begin, “George, Mark, you have seen me with Anna Summers in the newspapers?

  Mark smiles. George nods his head, intently looking at me, saying, “I have prepared a will and a power of attorney to be signed by you. Per your instructions she will own half of the fund now, then all of it upon your death.”

  I say, “You will be contacted at the time of my death. The power of attorney gives her control of the trust in the event of my death. She will be treated as my wife, with every consideration and respect to be given to her. George, you, too, Mark, I want you to know, the president of the United States has guaranteed her safety and will provide protection. John Jacobs will also be in charge of those resources. So you know if anything happens to her, for example, if she is kidnapped, no matter who is involved, the guilty will suffer a thousand deaths; they need to know. Nothing will stop me. Please, I want you to keep tabs on her. Anna will not be high on me, as I am leaving Earth. Mark, you are younger. Please go see her; get the paperwork done. I will eventually be back, although it could be years from now. Can you do this for me?”

  Mark responds, “Mr. Johnson, I will do whatever is needed. Do you have to go, to leave Earth?”

  “Yes. I am concerned about threats from outside this planet. I have to be proactive, prevent the possibility.”

  George raises his eyebrows, a frightened look. “Yes, I understand. I’m sorry. Should we be afraid?”

  I respond, “You should be fine, not to worry, at least not today.” I smile.

  The attorneys are delivered back to their rooftop, all excited, all thankful they survived, grateful to be living. They thank me, promise complete loyalty, saying they will serve me in any way needed. There will never be any issues coming fro
m them ever. After I am gone, they call their worried wives to let them know they will be home for dinner, and to tell the kids they love them.

  The Cyclone is heading for Los Angeles. It is about ten o’clock in the morning there. The slips act as homing beacons helping in finding Anna, who is picking up her mother and Nikki from the airport and heading into LA. Anna has told them I will probably join them for lunch; I want to say good-bye. Anna has never told her mother about me, about the alien thing. She has no clue, and Anna hopes to leave it that way. She has also not told her mother that her period is five days late. She is shaken; she is never late. Could it happen that fast? Could it be possible? Talk about complications.

  They are at the best restaurant in LA on a street off Rodeo Drive, a very fancy outdoor café with many tables, all with uniformed waiters, white gloves, and good manners. Hollywood stars routinely come here. There are large green umbrellas covering the tables on a big patio and a grassy area in front of a patio, twenty yards from the street, with white fencing, there to keep the tourists from bothering the guests. Then there is the sidewalk with lots of people. Some are waiting in line to come in to eat. The street is wide, six lanes across, divided in the middle. There is a park with a lake next to the restaurant. It is a gorgeous day, blue skies and not too hot, just right.

  Anna is given a table immediately, as everyone knows who she is, and it helps business to have her there. The meal is not charged, either, as restaurants are always grateful when she is there. She is treated as a prized celebrity. The other patrons are taking photos of Anna, and she signs autographs with a smile. Her mother and sister are more than proud, both beaming.

  They settle in at their table, order food, and drink and chat. Nothing has been heard regarding the whereabouts of Sam Jordan. Anna’s mother is fearful, tells Anna she knows about his dealing with the Mafia. Anna talks about the security around her house—military tanks, troops, police, FBI—and how the neighbors are all mad at her. TV cameras and reporters are everywhere, asking about Henry, who is he, and is he the reason for the military security guards? She says it is crazy. Even now there are troops out on this street, here, sitting in armed jeeps. Police have surrounded the restaurant. Secret Service guys are within twenty feet of their table, sitting at another table, watching.

  Anna tells her mother that I am more than I seem and that she will explain more when they have some time. It could get real complicated. Nikki tells their mother she knows about me, and it’s better not to know.

  Anna’s mother raises her eyebrows. “Is there anything else I should not know?”

  Anna responds, “Mom, this is not the right place to talk about it. I promise, you will hear all about it when we get home. There is the possibility Henry will be here to join us; he mentioned it would be about this time, about ten o’clock or so. He has a lot to do before he leaves, and I am not sure he will be here.”

  Her mother replies, “I like Henry, and if he said he was coming he will be here. I don’t understand his leaving. Where is he going? You two are perfect for each other.”

  Anna looks at her mother, tears starting to come to her eyes. She says, “Mom, let’s not talk about it now. You have no idea how complicated it is. Let’s just enjoy the day.”

  They eat, and it is excellent. Nikki and her mom have glasses of wine, then second glasses of wine. Anna does not drink wine today, having coffee, just in case. They laugh about things they did when they were little girls, her mother laughing, too.

  Anna keeps looking around, wondering about me. Not to see me to say good-bye would be tough. On the other hand, this could really be awkward, with all these people, the security guys, reporters, and TV cameras following her around. What will I do? The Cyclone is massive. These people have no idea. She is thinking, Please, please, Henry, sneak in the back door. No starships descending from the heavens.

  All of a sudden, an enormous dark shadow starts to darken the restaurant, looking like a storm coming in, and everyone looks up, shocked to see the blue sky blocked up high; something big is up there, and then the place is starting to pulsate; the ground is vibrating like there’s a minor earthquake. The whole neighborhood is being shadowed now, the sun blocked from view for several miles. The winds are picking up, even gusting, the umbrellas start rocking, dust blowing up; a blasting, thunderous noise is coming from above, small dust tornadoes spinning here and there. The ground is vibrating more. Her hair and light summer dress is blowing with the wind. She can feel me mentally and the Cyclone. She knows we are coming. She can see the bottom of the huge starship descending, maybe three or four miles up from them, no question, right over them, straight up.

  Everybody at the restaurant and beyond it, is out in the streets; they are looking up, seeing this massive thing straight up overhead. Shocked and dumbfounded, no one is sure what to do, everyone astounded at the size of this obvious alien starship, coming right down on top of them. Everyone is thinking, This is way too weird, can’t be happening; yet this is Hollywood, right? Then, all of a sudden, they comprehend this is real; in a second all are running, grabbing their things; flight is critical, everyone going in different directions as fast as they can, screaming for dear life.

  Anna shouts to her mother and Nikki, “Damn! Wait here! Henry is here, and the Cyclone is coming down on top of us.”

  So much for sneaking in. Looking up, she says, “Thanks, Henry!”

  Anna is abruptly up, her chair falling over, her shoes off, and she is running out to a flat grassy park area, fifty yards to the side of the restaurant. Looking up again, she sees the Cyclone much lower, still descending, and it looks twenty times the size of an aircraft carrier. She mentally tells me not to come lower.

  The Cyclone suddenly stops. It is about four hundred feet up now, really low, easy to see how gigantic it is, and the real thing, an intergalactic starship. Thankfully it has stopped; the noise subsides, and the wind gusts slow down. The ship is slowly hovering, staying at that altitude; the only sound is the buzz of massive static electricity sparking off the hull, like small bolts of lightning. The ship is vast, looking like it is miles long. To see an alien starship this close is terrifying for most people. It is also shaded under the starship, dark, as the ship is blocking the sun. There are police helicopters and army helicopters circling the starship, yet keeping a safe distance, looking like small insects buzzing here and there.

  Anna looks around, seeing the restaurant has cleared out; the streets are empty. Everyone still running away. She thinks, The damn reporters are still here, though, along with the TV cameras, and of course the security people are gathered around, protecting me. You have to admire their courage.

  She waves to the security people, feeling grateful, yelling, “You’re heroes to stand here with me. I’m OK though; the starship is friendly. There is no threat. It would be better for you to back away. I have a visitor from the ship; a good friend is coming to see me in about ten seconds.”

  Anna’s mother and sister now run up and stand next to her. Both are scared, yet they are not about to leave her. Nikki says, “We are in this together.” Anna tells them it is Henry—he’s here—and not to worry. She looks at her mother and says, “Mother, keep an open mind. I should have told you, Henry is not exactly from this planet.”

  Anna is amazed again; she is thinking Henry never ceases to surprise her. He did say he would see her before he left although this is a little much, a tad too dramatic. She is looking at the Cyclone’s underside, and it is astonishing. It is so long—miles long; the silver metal is perfect, not a blemish, and the starship is so mammoth. The vision of seeing the Cyclone this close is just astounding.

  All of a sudden, there are bright lights everywhere, many powerful beams shining in the shadow of the starship. Torches of massive lights are streaming down like mighty sun streams, sizzling with heat, and all coming from the Cyclone.

  All of a sudden, Henry is there, like a wizard, just appearing, now hovering two or three feet off the ground. Anna knows he rode
a power beam down. She knows it is Henry because she can feel him, although he does not look like her Henry. He looks like an alien warrior, a knight. He has on an armored suit, with steel shoulder pads and the rest a smooth, silky stainless-steel mesh, like a thin, light cloth mesh, yet metal, threaded with sparkling gold and silver. All of it is covered with thin, flexible metal straps, bigger ones at the joints, expanding and flowing with his movement, acting like muscles, giving more power plus a glide with his momentum, like a lion striding.

  His sealed helmet is made of an exotic metal, with silver- and gold-embedded streaks, and across the front of the helmet there is a horizontal red-lighted slit, for the eyes to look out, and a dark cover pulled down over the front, made from a dark-silver glass. The glass hides Henry’s eyes, and there is a red infrared light beaming out of the slit, looking like torches. The overall look is scary yet awesome. Henry looks about nine feet tall as he is walking on air, three or four feet off the surface, striding toward her with no gravity. His boots are almost to his knees.