by Terry Schott
“The Lord?” Sandy asked.
“I’ve heard of him.” Luke pursed his lips and drummed on the table again. “How many towns are we talking?”
“Hundred and twelve.”
“That many?”
“Please. You have over three thousand and the Lord has a lot more than that.”
“How many more?”
The Pickle shrugged. “Trust me. In the grand scheme of things, one-twelve isn’t too bad. I will give Sandy a list. I strongly suggest you leave those towns for the Lord and his people, Luke.”
“Okay.”
“Good.”
“Anything else?”
“Not really.”
“You have a safe place to go to?”
The teenager smiled. “I have been invited to stay with quite a few people.”
“Well, add us to that list.” Luke patted Sandy on the back. “Turns out that you’re more than just a video game prophet to us. You’re family.”
The Pickle laughed. “That’s good to know, but in a few months there will be no games. I won’t be of any use then.”
“I doubt that.”
“One more thing.”
“Yeah?”
“Start getting rid of your cash. Exchange it for items of real value.”
Luke frowned. “Why?”
“The banks are about to collapse. When they do, traditional money will be worthless.”
46
Helena Bledsoe heard the door open but continued reading the article on her monitor. When a tray appeared in her peripheral vision, she reached for the phone resting on it and placed it to her ear. “What is it?”
“Are you sitting down?” Her mother’s voice sounded calm, but there was a subtle difference to the tone which made Helena’s pulse quicken.
“Yes.”
“Your grandfather . . .”
Helena waited but only silence followed. She closed her eyes. “He’s dead?”
“He left his bodyguards behind. It took that long to find his body. Someone had dumped it in front of a hospital and drove away. He was a John Doe for two days before anyone thought to check his dental records against the international database.”
“He was murdered?”
“Of course. That’s the price one pays for leaving your guards behind.”
Helena sighed. “Don’t scold, Mother. He can’t hear you. Besides, he’s paid for the mistake.”
“We all pay.” Her mother could not keep the anger from her voice. “Such irresponsible behaviour, especially with the state of things. We needed him.” She paused. “I mean—”
“No, you’re right. This is bad.”
“I wasn’t thinking, dear. You will do excellent.”
“Stop.”
“He groomed you to replace him for years. Everything will be fine.”
“Mother.”
There was a pause. “The families believe in you, Helena.”
“Of course.”
“Report to the office. Full transfer of power will be made immediately.”
“I’m on my way.”
“There are three cars out front waiting for you. Additional protection.”
“Good.” Helena stood. “I’ll see you there.” She hung up the phone, dropped it on the desk, and headed for the door, calling over her shoulder. “Let me know when they are ready for me downstairs.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the butler bow. “As you say, Madame President.”
***
Four people sat at the table, positioned so that Helena was at the head of the pentagram they formed. They watched her sign the papers transferring power from her dead grandfather to her. Then she lifted a device to her face, waiting while it read and stored her retinal pattern. When it beeped, she lowered the device to the desk and scanned her fingerprints, one by one. When finished, she pushed the device away and closed the folder with the signed papers. She smiled and nodded to the others, even though she felt no happiness.
Everyone stood and applauded before shaking hands with her. “Now that the transfer is complete, it is time to begin implementation of the next phase.”
Philip Bledsoe, her great-uncle and the man immediately to her right at the table, frowned. “Your grandfather felt the next stage would not be required for at least another five years, even longer if—”
“My grandfather is dead.” Helena sniffed and looked at each of them in turn. “Who among you knows as much as I do about the overall world picture?”
No one spoke. Standard procedure was for each of them to intimately know their portion, but not the entire situation. That honour was reserved for the president and their heir.
Helena levelled her gaze at her great-uncle. She had practiced it for years, and knew that it perfectly mirrored that of her grandfather. “The decision is made. Initiate the next phase. Now.”
Philip Bledsoe bowed. “As you command, Madame President.”
47
A black car with dark windows pulled up to the curb. Victor emerged from the shadows, opened the door, and entered.
The man sitting beside him tapped on the privacy glass separating the rear compartment from the front and the vehicle pulled away.
Victor pulled at one cuff and shifted so that his weapon dug less into his back. “What’s up, Cage?”
“Change in leadership.” Cage leaned forward and prepared two drinks from the small bar. He handed one to Victor and the two clinked glasses. “May your reign at the helm of the Forge be a long and mutually prosperous one, Victor.”
“I’ll drink to that.” Victor drained his glass and smiled. When he had joined the Forge, it had become apparent to him that the organization wielded considerable yet unfocused power, due mainly to the clumsiness of its current leadership. Victor saw an opportunity and had begun working to seize it. In less than a week, his predecessor would be killed in a public display while Victor sat in a restaurant with dozens of people willing to swear he was there and not involved. Of course, those who mattered would know it was his hand that guided the blade, which would gain him even more respect.
He handed the empty glass to his new second-in-command. “I assume our focus is about to change?” Cage asked.
“Absolutely. We are through chasing dissidents for a government which will soon be defunct.”
“What will we do instead?”
“The major powers have begun to develop defensive strategies for the coming change. Countries have closed their borders, severely limiting travel in and out. Major trade has ceased, which is not an immediate issue since everyone began stockpiling years ago.”
“It will become a problem.”
“Not for years, and only for those who run out first.”
“Is this your plan for us as well?” Cage poured himself another drink and let the bottle hover over Victor’s glass.
He shook his head and waved the bottle away. “The Forge has contacts around the world. If we can maintain contact with them during the upcoming struggles, we are in a unique position to influence the new system as it is born from the chaos.”
“Global communication will cease.”
“Initially.”
“You have a plan to restore it?”
Victor smiled. “If I didn’t, then I would be a poor choice to lead, wouldn’t I?”
Cage laughed. “What are your orders?”
“Spread the word to our assets. I want them to maintain control over air transport, or remain close to those who do. Forge operative skill sets will remain desirable for those wishing to gain control in their small kingdoms. Encourage our people to help in order to infiltrate and maintain positions of control.”
“Not directly, though?”
“Absolutely not.” Victor leaned back and looked out the window. “As always, the true power will be wielded from the shadows. It is from there that we will operate.”
***
The bang made Beckett bolt up in bed, heart pounding as he looked around the darkness of his
bedroom.
“You in there, Beckett?” Three loud bangs again.
The front door. He looked at the digital clock on the night table beside the bed; 2:22 a.m. He got out of bed and went downstairs. “I’m coming. Stop banging on the friggin’ door.” He pulled it open and scowled at the man standing in front of him. “What the hell, Mark?”
“Sorry man, but something’s wrong. You got power?”
Beckett flicked the light switch. Nothing happened.
“Like I said. Big problem.”
“What makes you say that?”
“My car radio works, and it isn’t picking up any stations.”
“So?”
“Come out here and take a look at the sky.”
Beckett stepped outside and turned to face the city. The sky was deep black. “Damn.”
“There should be light from backup systems, right?”
“Yeah.”
“And the radio stations all quiet. I think that means there’s no power in any of the towns or cities.”
People walked up and down the street, flashlights in hand. The adults formed groups while children ran and played, waving flashlights in the air pretending they were light sabres. Beckett walked to the street and turned, looking out into the darkness. “Even the power plant is dark.”
“Apparently there were some loud booms coming from it not too long ago, just before the power went out.” Mark nodded toward an old blue truck. A man leaned against it, his arms crossed and eyes wide as he spoke to three men in front of him. “Derrick says he was driving by when it happened. Sounded real loud and scary.”
Beckett started toward the truck, then jumped as a tremendous roar and brilliant flash exploded from the power plant. A great round ball of orange and blue flame erupted skyward, turning into a smoky mushroom cloud and hanging above the plant for a moment before drifting away.
“That’s not good.” Beckett turned and ran back into his house. He emerged a few moments later wearing boots and a dark coat.
“Where you going?” Mark asked.
“To see what that was.”
“It was obviously the power plant. What’s the point in getting closer?”
Beckett stopped and rubbed one eye. Even from where he stood, miles away from the plant, the fire and destruction were as bright as if they were next door. “You’re right. There’s no point.”
“How come we don’t have power?”
Beckett frowned and then raised his brows. “You mean because we are running on the nano power?”
Mark nodded.
“It still uses regular power to keep the flow going. Only a little bit, but still.” He shrugged. “No electricity, no flow.”
“Seriously.” Mark shook his head. “I still don’t get it. Was glad when it worked, though.”
“You think they’re going to fix that? Bring it back online once the fire is out?”
Mark frowned. “They have to. Don’t they?”
“What if it’s not just one plant? What if it’s all of them?”
“In the state?”
Beckett squinted at the fire. “If this was the Harbinger, it will be more than the state.”
Mark swore. “If it was him, it could be the entire world.”
Beckett sat down on the step of his front porch and nodded.
48
I hope that you have enjoyed the past few years. It has always been my wish to help relieve the burden placed on the average person by those who would rule and oppress us. Thanks to the ideas contained in the book Sticks and Stones combined with the work of many volunteers all over the world, we have been able to eliminate your personal debt. Emails come to me daily describing the tremendous relief that has provided. Free internet has also been well-received. I think it is safe to say that, for the past few years, the little guy has been given opportunities that were previously unavailable.
Sadly, there comes a time in every process when sacrifices must be made by all. We are now at the stage in my plan when I must ask each of you to bear some of the burden as the plan continues moving forward. I know you can do it. I believe in you.
The internet needs to come down. When you think about how it influences your daily lives, I think you will realize it adds no true value anyway.
Something else is about to occur that is not of my doing, even though many will mistakenly say so. The power is about to be shut off, electricity, heat, water filtration. The World Bank has given the order to shut it all down.
I know, I know. How can the World Bank be responsible for such a thing?
They are a sickness on the world, a cancer that infiltrates everything. Over the past few centuries—that’s right folks, centuries—the World Bank has put their hooks into each and every one of us, disguised as progress and gifts. They are about to remove those hooks, in hopes that you will turn against me.
The disease is hurting you in an attempt to stay embedded.
It will not work.
I am the Harbinger.
I am the cure.
Some will curse me as the pain of the process begins. I hope that those who survive, those who make it through the perilous times ahead, will remember me fondly and be thankful that I have shown you things can be different.
You have the ability and the power to choose a better way.
I wish you luck.
The Harbinger
As was her habit, Beth reached for her phone before she was fully awake. She closed her fingers around the familiar shape, flipping onto her back and turning it on to check her emails. The display showed no new messages. She frowned. That’s odd. There should be at least twenty, and that’s if it was a slow night.
She tapped the reload icon but nothing new appeared. With a swipe of her finger, she closed the email program and opened another social media tab. “What the . . .” There were no new posts. She tapped the reload tab twice before noticing the wifi icon was not displayed.
The cell phone signal showed zero bars as well.
Beth groaned and got out of bed, dropping the phone onto the mattress and shuffling out into the living room of her one-bedroom apartment. She walked to the television and leaned over behind it to unplug the wifi router. After waiting for a couple minutes, she plugged it in and gazed out the window while it powered up. She looked across the road at the shopping mall. Cars filled the parking lot, and people streamed in and out.
She returned to her bedroom and retrieved the phone. I’ll reset it too. She pressed the Power and Home button, holding them down until an icon appeared to announce the phone was resetting.
When it came back on, she checked her programs again.
Still nothing.
“Did I pay the phone bill?” She looked at her cat stretched out and sleeping on the pillow beside hers. “I guess I’ll take a shower and head over to the mall. See if they can help me.”
***
When Beth entered the mall at the food court, she thought nothing of the line. As she got closer to the phone store, she realized that the lineup—the longest lineup she could recall seeing now that she thought about it—was for the store. She stopped and frowned, then looked at the closest person standing in line. “What’s the line for?”
The man scowled and held his phone up, shaking it. “Phones aren’t working.”
“Service is down all over?”
“I guess.” He shrugged. “No way to tell since we can’t access any info.”
“Why bother standing in line?”
The man opened his mouth to reply, then raised his eyebrows and shrugged. “Good question.” He stepped out of the line and walked away. Beth stood there for a few more seconds, then went back to the food court to get something to eat.
When she reached the line for her favourite Thai food, she read the sign in front of the cash register.
‘Electronic payment down. Cash only.’
“Heya, Don. Debit not working?”
The man behind the cash register shook his head. “Everything is
down it seems.”
“Strange.” Beth reached into her pocket and looked at the cash in her hand. Forty-two dollars. “I’ll get a number one combo with a soda.”
“You sure you wanna do that?” Don asked. “Maybe you need that money for something else, since you can’t get any more out of the bank right now.”
“Oh. Yeah, that’s a good thought. Thanks, man.”
“I’ll get you a combo one anyway. Pay me when the system comes back up, okay?”
She smiled. “You’re the best.”
He went to the wok and she waited. Her phone chirped. She smiled and reached for it. “Looks like the phones are back.”
“That’s good.” Don dumped some rice into the wok and began to stir in the vegetables.
“Hmm. No signal, but somehow an email came in.” She opened it and began to read. “Oh my god.”
“What is it?”
“A message from the Harbinger.” She looked at the line of people waiting to go into the phone store. They were all looking at their phones, reading something. Some began to look up, panic on their faces. “Hey Don?”
He looked at her.
“When you finish that meal, you might wanna close up and get home.”
“Why?” He portioned the food into a container and closed it. His smile disappeared when he looked at Beth.
“It’s gonna get crazy on the roads.”
“Okay, thanks.”
“I’m serious. Things are about to get bad.” Don placed the food into a bag and handed it to her. She accepted it and walked briskly toward the exit. “Get out of here. Now.”
49
Sal frowned as the man sitting across the table from him snatched the bill out of the waiter’s hand. “What are you doing?”
“I got this one.”
Sal shook his head and held his hand over the table.
“You never let me. Come on, I’ll get this.”
Finally, the man slapped the bill into Sal’s hand. “Okay, thanks as always, man.”
“My pleasure, Carlo.”
“Promise me I can get the next one.”