MYLEA: the journey begins (Mylean Universe Chronicles Book 1)

by Philip Elrod

  “But, quid pro quo, I learned to block the voice and knew that I had a substantial power of my own. The voice needed me far more than I would ever need it. I tested Maxx and challenged him to a game for mental superiority. I got pretty good at it, and I could tell that the voice was becoming more and more frustrated with its charge.

  “At last, I learned what was specifically needed from me by the voice: my DNA. When I realized that it had to be offered voluntarily, I realized that I held the best cards. I could ask for anything that I wanted when it came time to play my part. And Maxx would have to give it to me.

  “After learning what we would be doing, I realized that, if I were not careful, Maxx could gain limitless powers that could be used for evil purposes. I had to come up with a plan to trick him.

  “I would use my DNA to access the editor function and change the programming as requested, but then I would do something very clever. I would replace my DNA with another unbreakable DNA profile as the new password.

  “The final plan was solidified after I made arrangements to meet you. It was easy. By now, I know how to use my powers in many ways. I came to believe that you would, indeed, be the perfect person to help me achieve my goals.

  “My first plan was to use your DNA for the new password, but then I realized that Maxx could easily locate you and scan your profile. Maxx could then copy your DNA and use it to access the editor function. Bad idea.

  “On my first trip to the interstellar transporter, I realized that I could speak with the MCM without Maxx hearing the conversation. I would use this to my advantage. However, after much further thought, I knew that Maxx could probably reconstruct the sounds from the editor room. He would know what had been said.

  “Next, I came to realize that Maxx, although powerful, could not visualize what was happening in the control room. That was my ‘eureka’ moment, and that’s when I came up with my final, and best, plan.

  “I would make the programming changes required, and I would add one small change of my own. The new password would not have to be read from a living person. Maxx would be able to clone Mylean DNA, and then I’d change the password to something that would be truly unbreakable. Maxx would have to believe that I was using your DNA, just as I had planned originally. But, I had one last surprise for him.

  “That little act in the control room was strictly to fool Maxx. He knew that he could easily access your DNA profile, and with it, enter the MCM and make any change that he wanted. That, my friend, could have been disastrous. Maxx had already gained more power than anyone could imagine. With your DNA, he could have ruled the universe singlehandedly. I had to pull a fast one, and I did just that.

  “I had to assume that it would take time, many years of Earth time before Maxx felt the need to make any further changes to the code of the Master Control Module. He had a mission to complete, and I had finally given him the means to complete that mission.

  “Mylean DNA could now be cloned and new individuals created to populate the planet. There should be no need to modify the program for a long time to come. By then, Maxx and the transporter would be far away from the Earth.

  “Sooner or later though, that day would come. Maxx would want to change the code again and he would immediately realize in an instant that I had duped him. He would know that I had sneaked in a different DNA profile and not used yours. My final trick was an act of genius if I do say so myself. I used Mitch’s DNA as the password.”

  Jim Slater was aghast. He screamed at Tom, “You bastard! How could you put Mitch into such a dangerous position?”

  “Calm down. You look like you might have a stroke. Drink your Bloody Mary and be careful not to spill it on the floor. All I did was gather a bit of her saliva while you were off on your tour. I half expected her to bite me, but she seemed to understand that I was doing this for a good purpose. I wrapped the saliva in a tissue and carried it to the control room in my pocket. At the proper time, I just brushed your hand away from the screen and placed her saliva there to be read. It worked like a charm if I do say so myself.”

  The old man looked at Jim intently and said, “Jim, I am very fond of Mitch, and she will never be in any danger. Now listen to me. It’s all about time. By the time Maxx discovers Mitch’s DNA is the password, she will have been in doggie heaven for many years. And I know that you’ll have her cremated so that you can keep her ashes near you.

  “To tell you the truth, I know very little about animal DNA, so it might not be so difficult to find a match. Or maybe Maxx can create it artificially. I did the best that I could under the circumstances and I’m sure that Mitch would approve. Mitch is a heroine, but no one will know it but the two of us, although Mitch seems to be well aware of her exalted state.”

  Tom reached over and gave Mitch a pat on the head. She licked his hand in return and wagged her tail in circles—her sign that she approved of Tom’s actions.

  Jim watched and muttered more to himself than anyone else, “Well if Mitch approves, who am I to complain.”

  For several minutes, they did not talk at all. Each seemed lost in memories of the past two days.

  Tom finally spoke, “My payment may seem extreme to you, but what is a life worth? What I got was in payment for a lifetime of being controlled. I gave up my identity. Who am I now? A human? A Mylean? Or some combination of the two? I would give all that power up in a heartbeat to have lived a normal life.”

  Tom pulled a Cuban cigar from his pocket and lit it. “I’ve saved this for now. I can smoke this cigar to my heart’s content since this is my ship. I’ve always imagined what it would be like to rule my own little kingdom, and here I am, king of all that I survey.”

  Jim waited for some time before saying anything. Finally, he leaned over and touched the old man on the arm, and said, “I can only imagine how you feel and how your life was spent—the pains that you’ve suffered and the good times that you’ve missed. No matter what, Mitch and I will be there for you from now on. We’ve become a little family of our own.”

  Mitch wagged her tail.

  He continued, “You’ve already told me about your power and how you’ll use it. I have a real predicament. How will I explain all this to the president? How can I make him understand that he has far less power than you have in just one little finger?”

  Tom replied, “I’m going to give you the tools that will persuade them. You’ll have a meeting with the president and his VIPs, and I’ll provide you with a video that will knock their socks off. Maxx has already prepared it. With that, your job will be a piece of cake.

  “I now have a fleet of approximately a thousand remote craft and a mother ship to maintain them. That mother ship, a space station if you will, is operated by a computer that rivals Maxx in capabilities.

  “I have complete and unlimited access to all Mylean technology and a historical database that would stagger your mind. It’s updated routinely, and the extent of the data is unbelievable. There is a record of every human being on Earth going back about eight thousand years. Some of the records are simple, just an ID number along with its date/time stamp and its precise location at the moment.

  “You may wonder why that information is important. Just imagine the impact on criminal activity when law enforcement learns that I can supply them with a list of all parties present at any time for any crime scene in the world.

  “And it gets better; Maxx has algorithms that can build lists of interesting people by associations. Such information allows me, or rather my computer, to identify individuals who are a threat to their fellow man, such as terrorists located anywhere in the world. I can stop them with a gravitational field that will hold them as a prisoner, or, if necessary, I can terminate them with a photon bullet.

  “If I ever got sufficiently upset, I could destroy the whole planet. As you can see, I’m not a man to be taken lightly.”

  Tom’s eyes virtually blazed with a frightening intensity as he continued to describe his powers. Then pausing for a few moments,
his expression returned to a softer more compassionate expression, and he said, “Jim, I have more power available to me than any human being should ever have. But it is not the power that I wanted, but the technology behind that power. Mylean technology can be used to help mankind and elevate our civilization from its warlike and semi-savage state to a nobler race of human beings. I just have to find a way to use that power and technology in a balanced way.

  “You must convince your president that changes are coming to the world, one way or another! I would prefer to remain anonymous and live out my life peacefully, perhaps even spend my final days as a Mylean. What I have received, gives me the capability of changing the face of our world completely. I take this responsibility very seriously, and I know that I can count on your support.”

  Jim sat silently for a long time, deep in thought.

  Tom picked Mitch up and held her in his lap. She showed her disapproval of what she considered to be a stinky cigar by turning her head away from him in utter disdain.

  Suddenly, all three were startled by the door of the craft opening. They had landed at the dilapidated old barn again. They stepped out and the ship immediately went into stealth mode and became invisible.

  Tom had assigned Mister T to operate the ship and keep it available from a location not too far in outer space. The robot wasn’t particularly happy with the assignment but acquiesced when Tom promised to bring him back to Earth within a few days.

  Jim and Tom got into the front seat of the Hyundai, with Mitch in Tom’s lap.

  “Jim, just drop me off at the J W Marriott. It won’t be out of the way. Forget the car in Henry’s parking lot. I can get it later. There’s something in my room that I’d like to give you.”

  Noting the quizzical look on Jim’s face, the old man continued, “My letter to the president. You remember my reward for helping you with your report.”

  “Oh, I had almost forgotten,” Jim replied, adding, “No problem, I know right where the hotel is located.”

  Tom was more relaxed and happy than he had been in a very long time.

  Jim Slater was more stressed out than he had ever been in his life.

  Mitch snoozed blissfully in Tom’s lap.

  Mister T was exceedingly thankful that he would not be rebuilt and sent somewhere out into space to work on a mining ship.

  Chapter 12

  Slater’s Report

  “We are not diplomats but prophets, and our message is not a compromise but an ultimatum.”

  - Aiden Wilson Tozer

  Jim arrived home at 8:30 PM and took Mitch for a quick walk. After giving her fresh food and water, he went to his office in his condo, turned on his laptop, and began making notes for the meeting with his boss the next morning. Several hours later, he noticed the time and realized that he must quit for the night. He’d just have to fill in the details while he waited for Mathew Walker to decide how much of his information would make it into the report to the president.

  Jim awoke after a night of tossing and turning. Somewhere along the way, Mitch had growled grumpily and jumped off the bed long before the hated alarm went off. Jim turned off the offensive beeping and swung his legs over the side of the bed to the floor. Grrr! The bedcovers had fallen to the floor, and Mitch had made her bed right in the middle of them. She was not happy that Jim had almost stepped on her. He apologized profusely, gave her a pet, and headed for the shower. Mitch rearranged her nest and went back to sleep.

  After his shower, Jim dressed quickly in typical Washington attire with a dark suit, white shirt, and a forgettable tie. In the kitchen, he made coffee and took care of Mitch’s short morning walk while he waited for it to be ready. He poured a large thermal mug of coffee, grabbed a plain bagel, and headed for his office.

  He guided his car carefully through the congested morning traffic. He couldn’t afford to be distracted by pedestrians or other vehicles. Jim knew that his biggest hurdle would be Mathew, who, on his best days, was often described as more than a little close-minded. An ultimate bureaucrat, Walker was unable to see past his next presentation to the president or some other VIP.

  When Jim walked into his office, he was startled to see a middle-aged man dressed in a dark suit waiting impatiently for him. He extended his hand, “Dr. Slater, good morning; I’m Chuck Wilmeth with the Secret Service. The president has requested that I bring you directly to the White House. I’ll brief you on the way. By the way, don’t forget your laptop.”

  Jim stared at the man in disbelief. Such a greeting was not at all what he had expected. Wilmeth motioned for him to follow and walked briskly toward the exit.

  Still a bit stunned, Jim followed the stranger as he left the office and headed out the front entrance. Outside, they went to a black Suburban with darkly tinted windows that awaited them. The driver wore aviator type sunglasses and dark clothing. He spoke not a single word as Jim and Chuck Wilmeth got into the vehicle.

  The drive to the White House would be very short, so Wilmeth had to speak very rapidly. “NASA has confirmed that the object observed by the two astronomers is legitimate. The object is an alien spacecraft. Mathew Walker had planned to evaluate your findings and relay them to the president.

  “Unfortunately, Dr. Walker had a serious accident and broke his femur this weekend. He was playing touch football with his nephews when he just suddenly fell to the ground in obvious pain. It was quite strange because he was out in the open. No one had touched him. I find it hard to believe that a man of his age would be playing touch football in the first place. Golf is much safer.

  “Right now, he’s in surgery at Bethesda getting some titanium rods placed in the femur. That’s going to be quite an interesting situation because the doctors had already told him that he wouldn’t be working for quite a while. And, that was before they decided to put the rods in his femur. Apparently, it was quite a bad break.

  “I can only thank God that I’m not going to be around him when he wakes up. It’s not going to be a pleasant experience for the medical staff.

  “After the surgery, they’ll want to keep him for a few more days. He’ll be on heavy duty painkillers, and that will make him most unhappy. While he was still in the emergency room, he requested that you take his place at the special Security Council meeting this morning. I’m sure that you’ll do an acceptable job even though you haven’t had any time to prepare. Don’t worry, the council is well aware of the situation, and they’ll cut you some slack.”

  Jim had no time for questions as the Suburban stopped at the north entrance to the West Wing. The Secret Service agent pulled an identification badge from his pocket and handed it to him. “Wear this around your neck at all times. Even though they know who you are and are expecting you, we need to stick to protocol.”

  The agent greeted the single marine stationed at the door as they entered. The guard said, “Sir, they are waiting for you in the Situation Room.”

  They walked down the hallway to the Situation Room complex on the first floor. Jim had always wondered why it wasn’t in some bunker deep underground for safety reasons. They reached the doorway and the agent opened it and motioned that Jim should enter. He then shut the door behind Jim and took a seat in the hallway. Jim suddenly felt very, very alone.

  The room was impressive to say the least. Dark, high back leather chairs were arranged around the huge polished wood conference table. In fact, Jim expected to see his reflection in the surface. God help me if I should mar the surface with my fingerprints, he thought to himself. They’d never forgive me.

  There were multiple computer screens and wall clocks set at various international times. To one side, at the front, stood the American and presidential flags.

  Most of the seats at the conference table were already taken by some high-level cabinet person or a military leader. Each and every one of them turned and looked at Jim as he entered. No one said a word and they didn’t look especially warm and friendly.

  The president’s chief of staff stood and
introduced himself. “Good morning, Dr. Slater. I’m Gordon Blaylock. We appreciate your filling in for Dr. Walker. He speaks highly of you. Please have a seat right there,” he said, pointing to one of the few empty chairs at the table.

  As soon as Jim took his seat, Gordon Blaylock began to address the room. “The president will be here in a few minutes. He has requested that NASA go ahead and present its report to you, as he’s already been briefed on the report.

  “But first, I’d like to present Dr. James Slater, scientific advisor to Mathew Walker. Mathew will not be joining us today as he is under medical care for a broken femur. He’ll be fine, but the break required surgery, and he’ll not be able to walk for some time. Knowing Mathew, he’ll be working from home as soon as he gets out of the hospital.” Several people at the table laughed in an agreeable tone.

  Continuing, Blaylock said, “So, I will now turn the program over to Dr. Ernest Swarzhoff, from NASA, and he will give us a briefing on the subject of this meeting.”

  Dr. Swarzhoff made his way to the front of the room and stood beside the bank of computer screens that were now active.

  Jim looked around the room and recognized the vice president, the secretary of state, the secretary of treasury, the secretary of defense, and several other high-ranking members of the White House staff. Also, there were a couple of generals and an admiral seated at the table. A single vacant chair emblazoned with the presidential seal waited at the head of the table for the president of the United States. Jim prayed that he would not have a panic attack, but then he remembered his navy training and slowly began to calm down.

  Jim remembered his conversation with Tom in which he had assured Jim that he would meet with the president. At the time, Jim had noticed the twinkle in the old man’s eye but thought little of it. Now, he couldn’t help but wonder if his boss’s accident hadn’t been “arranged.”

  “Ladies and gentlemen, I am Dr. Ernest Swarzhoff, associate director and responsible for near space observations at NASA. On Friday, June 29, a noted Japanese amateur astronomer, Akiro Matsumoto, reported sighting a very large object at the outer edge of our inner solar system. That would be just beyond the orbit of Neptune. He implied that this object moved at very high speed, then stopped, apparently to a dead standstill.