by A. J. Curry
“Or, in my case, deciding your whole damned life is a hallucination,” I said.
If my life really was a hallucination, the really good drugs had finally kicked in. I was sitting in a conference room with Murgenstaern and Evangeia. The assault team commander that would assist in re-taking Area Fifty Whatever was also at the table, with a couple of his aides.
The Order is not, never has been, a military organization. The original human Grandmasters had been an alchemist and a spy. There had been no shortage of mercenaries available as needed in Elizabethan England; there were plenty now. In some ways, the available talent was better than ever. The assault team commander and his boys were some of the best talent money could buy.
I pitied the human foolish enough to get in their way.
The assault team were members of another Elsewhere species. They were tight lipped about their intentions on Earth but party to the same detente as The Order’s nonhuman patrons.
Actually, they were just tight lipped in general.
Roughly humanoid, at least to the point of being able to wear off-the-rack tactical gear (except for the boots), their species had made their way from a universe where a significant asteroid strike had failed to occur sixty-odd million years ago.
Despite being called “reptilian” in popular paranormal paperbacks, they are at least as warm blooded as my associates in The Company (which isn't saying that much, of course).
The assault team commander's eyes would’ve been perfectly at home in a crocodile’s skull, and even though his own skull could have passed for human, the jaws and teeth plainly belonged to a carnivore. I couldn’t pronounce and won’t even try to spell his name. Let’s just call him Commander Hiss.
“All humansss are paranoid,” he said. “And any that sssee my team will think they are hallucccinating asss well.”
“That’s why your team will be wearing balaclavas for the duration of this exercise,” Evangeia said. “I’d like to keep the clean-up on this as light as possible.”
The entirety of Black Rock was under the same form of psychic attack that had slipped me off the rails driving across the desert. We knew the Greys could control human minds under certain conditions, but they had never attempted to control as many people at once as would be needed to simply seize the facility and take the Seraphim Stone. Driving everyone on the base slightly bonkers from orbit was another matter. They’d done things like this before. My previous plan to bluff my way into the Black Rock Advanced Research and Containment Facility was null and void. The entire facility was now on lockdown. It would take more than my credentials to get in.
I knew the layout, though, and could direct Hiss and his team to a good spot to break in. There wasn’t going to be anything subtle about this, there wasn’t time. A simple smash and grab operation I would be spinning disinformation about for the rest of my career, assuming I had one. Hiss and his team would get us in. Murgenstaern and I would make our way to the Seraphim Stone. We didn’t need to know exactly where it was being kept. His senses would lead us straight to it.
After that, the plan got a little vague. Murgenstaern had given his word he would be “gone” the moment The Stone was in his possession. Hiss and his team would mop up any unfriendlies that may or may not have arrived, and The Order would spirit me away to start writing press releases about how an entire research facility had gotten high on contaminated rye bread from the commissary. Or something. I’d figure it out.
Under their balaclavas, Hiss and his team would be wearing what might as well be called tinfoil hats. That’s what they looked like, and they served exactly the same purpose of preventing alien mind control. I’d be wearing one as well, but not Murgenstaern. He had been attacked by something different, something he believed he could prevent being used again. He did not elaborate on the details.
Whatever else Commander Hiss might not have liked about this operation, very little pleased him less than Murgenstaern’s involvement. “Thiss thing has lied sssince the beginning of time. Trussting it iss folly.”
“Neither your decision nor your concern, Commander,” Evangeia replied. “Your team has been engaged for the purpose of gaining access to our base and providing ground support until we are ready to leave. Strategic advice exceeds your current paygrade.”
“And I intend to keep my word,” Murgenstaern interjected. “Do not think for a moment there is a single thing on this world that might keep me here for even a minute, once I am finally able to leave − or that there is anything on this world or any other that might prevent me from coming and going as I please and am able.”
“The Graysss might not agree.”
“What they did was less effective than they thought, will not be repeated, and does not matter − for I am leaving, and where I go none may follow.”
“SSSee that you do,” Hiss replied. “And if you do not, think not to hide onccce more among humanssss.”
* * * *
“I’m not even going to ask what you did to piss off the Sauroids,” I said.
“Good,” Murgenstaern said.
Evangeia’s flying saucer hovered over the mountain I’d driven off the day before. Commander Hiss had arrived for the meeting in an equivalent craft of his own− a blunt, iron-gray cylinder parked nearby on stubby landing legs. Hiss’s team was in place between them, gearing up for the assault. Under the balaclavas, they passed for human − as long as you didn’t take a close look at their booted feet.
We would soon be joining them in their craft for the short hop down to the base. What the Sauroid vehicle lacked in aesthetics, it made up for in functionality. It’s stealth capability was equal to any craft of the Order’s. We would arrive undetected.
Murgenstaern and I were sitting on rock outcropping near Evangeia’s saucer. No one had said “smoke ‘em if you got ‘em”, but I was. I’d offered him one as well out of conditioned politeness. For whatever reasons of his own, he accepted.
Below us, the barren playa stretched out to the horizon. Close to the horizon to the south, we could see the lights and structure of Area Fifty Whatever − including the truly massive structures in the facility's center. The scale was deceptive, even so. Most of “The Black Rock Advanced Research and Containment Facility” was many levels underneath what had once been a discarded airbase.
I took a drag and exhaled. “There is something I’d like to ask you about.”
“You may certainly ask.” Murgenstaern seemed oblivious to the assault team, barely aware of me. At a guess, I’d say the Seraphim Stone − to which he now had direct line of “sight” − had most of his attention.
“You invited me along on this ride because I have ‘unique subject matter expertise’ on both The Company and The Order. You’ve got some ‘unique subject matter expertise’ of your own.”
“One could say.”
“As far as I know, you are the sole living being on this planet that can claim a first-person relationship with God based on anything other than wishful thinking or self-delusion.”
“You perhaps judge too harshly.”
I laughed. “I don’t think so. Every single human who ever claimed to be buddies with The Big Guy has contradicted everyone else making that claim beyond any credibility. They’re either making shit up or having a comfortable delusion − but not you. You’re not human and you were actually there.”
“You said you had a question.”
“Yeah, I do. Even though the basic design of this universe left you stranded on Earth and opened up holes in space used by little gray bastards that apparently would like to dissect you, you seem to believe that everything that has happened in the several billion years since God made you is according to His plan. Every… single… thing. Do you have a reason to think that… or are you just as deluded as the folks that tried to sell me a bill of goods back in Sunday School?”
I pretty much expected him to blow me off or go into ‘statue mode’ while thinking about it. To my surprise, he did neither.
&
nbsp; “You will probably not like the answer. I’ve considered this very question for longer than any of your kind could have even asked it. My one reason for believing as I do is no different than those of your kind you consider ‘deluded’.” He took a drag on his own cigarette. “Essentially, it is a matter of faith.”
“You gotta be shitting me − the one and only Lucifer Morningstar is solely motivated by what amounts to love and faith in God?”
“Essentially, yes.”
I stubbed out my cigarette on the rock next to me. “They need to do some serious work on Sunday School curriculum.”
“Undoubtedly.”
“Then everything does happen for a reason?”
“I did not say that. The universe, as I understand it, is an unfolding fractal. The basic outline of that fractal is present in every single piece of it, down past levels you would understand. But consciousness and free will have been parts of that design since before I existed. I chose exile on this world in obedience to what could be considered ‘the will of God’ − but it was my choice, Murphy.”
“But God made you, before even the galaxies themselves. You can’t say you weren’t made in such a way that choice was inevitable.”
The archangel shrugged. “I’ve considered that possibility as well. If God intended me to choose millions of years of exile in this place, then God is more implacably cruel than anything else in God’s universe. But that is not for me to judge.” He stubbed out his cigarette as well. “In any event, I look forward to discussing the matter upon my return.”
* * * *
There was barely room for Murgenstaern and me to squeeze into the hold of the Sauroid assault craft. To a one, the hulking mercenaries around us were dressed in the black tactical gear favored by human mercs and the occasional SWAT team (minus body armor they didn’t need), with balaclavas, safety goggles that mostly served to conceal their eyes, and mind control deterrent “tinfoil” tucked up under the balaclavas.
I was more or less dressed the same way, with the exception of my old bike jacket. Murgenstaern was wearing the same leather trench coat he’d mostly been wearing since I’d first met him, over his standard grey suit and dark shirt. No surprise there; he was even less concerned about getting shot than the Sauroids, didn’t need a tinfoil hat, and passed as human − at least until you got to know him. If Area Fifty Whatever’s security force was still functional, they’d probably just assume he was in charge and shoot him first.
Once everyone was in, the hatch was raised shut and we were off. I’d already shown Hiss and his pilot where to sit down.
It was a short ride. Minutes later, the hatch dropped again. We’d traveled twenty miles and descended a few hundred feet to the desert floor, adjacent the facility perimeter. There were no alarms or any other sign we’d been detected. Apparently, the Sauroid’s tech was as good as they claimed.
The assault team filed out rapidly, taking formation around the place in the fence I’d told them to place the charges, while the demolition tech did his work. So far, everything was going to plan.
Then, suddenly, it wasn’t.
The Grey mothership filled the sky from nowhere − a black triangle at least a thousand feet across.
The first shot took out the assault craft, which apparently wasn’t so stealthy after all. Instead of disappearing into a glowing ball like an old sci-fi movie, it violently blew apart like a more current flick, with plenty of shrapnel.
“Go!” I screamed at the demo tech. I needn’t have bothered. He fell back and the fence blew.
Additional shots started hitting members of the assault team. This time they did vanish like an old sci-fi flick effect, in puffs of dust and smoke.
The demo tech managed to rig the inner wall before getting hit. Luckily, the detonator was intact. Even better luck: It was, like the rest of the Sauroid gear, off-the-shelf. I sprinted to where it had been dropped, dived to one side and hit the button. The wall blew.
By the time what was left of the assault team had gotten through the hole in the wall, half the team had gone up in puffs of glowing red smoke. Hiss had been taken out with the drop ship.
Whatever the Greys had been using apparently didn't work through concrete. We were safe − but not for long. “Okay,“ I said. “You guys are working for The fucking Order, and that's me. I need to know who's in command.”
There was a long silence . Finally, one of the mercs said “We ssstill get paid, yessss?”
“Yup. “
“Then we follow you.”
five: murgenstaern
It had all been conjecture (and the word of a lying sasquatch) to the point that the Selenite craft appeared above us. I had never truly known who had been behind my attempted abduction centuries before. Neither did I know with any certainty than anyone but myself had plans for the Seraphim Stone… it was just not a possibility I could chance.
Once we were in the containment facility, the “light” of the Stone was brighter to my inner vision than ever. I cannot describe what I felt in human terms. Elation at ending my exile? Certainly. Anxiety that even now there was a chance this could be taken from me? Very much so. But there were other feelings as well that I cannot describe to mortals, even Evangeia’s relatively long-lived kind. And for a moment, those feelings overwhelmed me.
Then I mastered myself. There was still work to be done.
Murphy had peeled the balaclava away from his face, the better to give orders to those he now commanded. He’d appropriated a sidearm from the Sauroids. Even though the rest of their gear seemed to have been purchased in bulk from Amazon, their weapons had been supplied by The Order. They superficially looked like conventional human firearms. They weren’t.
“Okay, here’s the drill,” Murphy said, holding up his weapon and pointing to the stock. “Nonlethal setting for humans, even humans that happen to be shootin’ back. Any nonhumans not part of this team will be assumed hostile − light ‘em up as you see fit, but only after I give the word.
“This guy,” he nodded at me. “Is on point and taking us to the target. Once target is acquired, we hold position until the target and our scout have left the building. We will then make our way back the way we came in.
“You,” he pointed to the Sauroid who had spoken earlier. “Whatever your rank was before, you are now second in command. If anything happens to me, proceed as planned and get your people out of here. Any questions?”
“Yessss,” said Murphy’s newly-appointed second. “What keepsss the Grayss from vaporizing us asss ssoon asss we are in the open?”
“Good question.” Murphy turned to me. “I’m pretty sure adepts of The Order are monitoring us already, but I hate to ask these guys to depend on that. Do you have a way to contact Evangeia?”
“Not now,” I replied. “Once the Seraphim Stone is in my possession, there is very little upon this planet I cannot do.”
“In that case, and despite your sworn word to leave immediately, I want your word as well that you will arrange a ride for these guys.”
“You have it. What of yourself?”
“Let’s assume I’m riding with them.”
* * * *
As we made our way further into the Black Rock facility, it soon became evident that Murphy’s concerns over lethal force being used against any “humans that happen to be shooting back” were not needed. After over a day of the same type of psychic attack that had left Murphy detached and suicidal after a few hours, the humans we encountered were either catatonic or apparently detached from their surroundings and incapacitated. Some were slumped in chairs in the offices and cubicles we passed, others curled into fetal balls in the hallways and corridors. Some stared blankly at nothing apparent. Others saw us, either giggling or whimpering as we continued.
“Are they hallucinating?” I asked Murphy.
“I’d say they’re tripping their fucking balls off.”
Despite Murphy’s knowledge of the facility, we still hit a couple of dead ends making our
way to the containment area where the Archangel Array and the Seraphim Stone were being held. The closer we approached, the clearer the Stone’s location was in my mind.
“How close do you need to get?” Murphy asked me.
“This is not a thing I can move with my mind, if that is what you mean. I have to go to it. I have to touch it.”
“Does that apply to the Greys as well? They can also move things at a distance.”
“If they could do such a thing to either the Stone or myself, I would not be here now.”
“I guess not.”
A few more twists and turns through the corridors, more terrified or catatonic people huddled into corners or laughing or crying. Also bodies. Murphy was not the only one who had been driven to thoughts of suicide.
“I don’t want to jinx anything,” Murphy said. “But it’s looking like we might actually pull this off.”
“Indeed.”
“It’s been real, and it’s been fun, old son − and even if I can’t exactly say it’s been real fun, I can say that I will miss you, Lucifer Morningstar. Milton and my old Sunday School teacher had it all wrong.”
“Not all, I fear… but the sentiment is appreciated.”
A few more turns, then we rounded one last corner. My inner vision of the Stone and my outer vision of a way forward were one. At the end of the corridor was a massive door that could have functioned well for a bank vault or a nuclear facility. It may or may not have exceeded what I could simply move with my mind, but I felt sure that that the inner workings of whatever locked it would be no challenge. I walked toward it, focusing all my senses.
“This ain’t right,” Murphy said. I ignored him.
“It can’t be this easy,” he said. “I have a really, really bad feeling about this.”
I tuned it out, tuned all of it out. All my attention was focused on the barrier before me and what lay past.
The light from the Seraphim Stone filled my inner vision. I would be free again, finally free of this place. No more talking monkeys, no more talking lizards, no more talk.