Godschild Covenant: Return of Nibiru

by Marshall Masters

  “So do I,” Idan agreed, “but I think our next two interviews are going to be more difficult. Boole is a good guy, but Wheelwright and Jarman are the two people that make this camp tick."

  She tapped her pen on the tabletop as she searched for the right words. “Idan,” she finally said with a touch of hesitancy in her voice. “I know we only spent about ten, maybe twenty minutes at most with them late last night when we hammered out our arrangement, but I sensed something."

  Idan raised an eyebrow with interest. It made sense to him, but the reason why it did escaped him. “Well, Rose, do you mean to tell me you've already gotten a flash of female intuition about these two?"

  She rubbed her hands together and then scratched the top of her lip. “You could say that. I don't know why, but I sense something between them, even though I don't think they know it yet, themselves. Maybe they do, but they both might want to avoid the connection. Yet all my experience with doing the news tells me there is something there."

  Her carefully chosen words gave Idan a comparative for his own subliminal memories of the encounter the previous evening. “Rose, I don't think you're talking about something sexual, although I can see that happening.” He ran his fingers through his hair as he searched his mind for the precise adjective. The one word that would coin what he and Rose sensed. “What I think both of us sensed in them last night is, in a word, history."

  Rose snapped her fingers. “Yes, history. Not in the past sense, but in the future sense. You know, future history."

  Idan nodded his head in agreement with a huge smile. He held his hands out in front of him, with the palms facing each other. As he brought the two palms towards each other he said, “Fate is bringing this man and this woman together for a greater purpose than what they serve now.” With the last word, he clasped both of his hands together.

  She put her hands over his and said, “And we've got to capture it, somehow.” She bit her lip as she questioned her own perceptions one more time, and then continued. “Idan, we could be wrong, but every fiber of my talent as a news reporter says we're not. If we try to capture this, we cannot let them know we are purposefully trying to do it. It has to look incidental, if you will."

  Idan and Rose looked at each other. “We always try to interview them both at the same time, or at least whenever we can,” Rose said. Idan smiled and they separated their hands.

  Jerry and Pete returned at that moment with their trays. The two men looked at them with astonished eyes. “Would anyone care to clue us in on what is happening here,” Pete asked as he picked up his fork.

  “Eat up, fellas,” Idan replied casually. “We're going to do a three camera shoot this afternoon. Pete, I want you on number two camera for wide shots and close ups on Rose. We'll slave cameras one and three to the switcher. Jerry, instead of lavaliere microphones, let's seat the talent and use acoustic panels with those new shotgun boom microphones instead."

  “You know, we're scheduled to shoot Wheelwright in her office.” Rose noted. “We could move her conference table. That should give us plenty of room to create a basic set."

  Jerry looked at Idan and Rose passively for a few minutes as the details sorted themselves out in his mind. Once the plan clicked, he looked at Pete and simply said, “Eat up, buddy; we've got our work cut out for us."

  * * * *

  GETTING WHEELWRIGHT AND Jarman to agree to a joint interview had been easier than Idan expected. It left him wondering if getting their cooperation would continue to be as easy once the triage center was open for business.

  The setup went smoothly, thanks to the well-supplied Panavision field kits. Jerry had all three cameras and the switcher ready to go about the same time that Pete had finished setting up the shotgun boom microphones. After that, the two fidgeted with the lighting until Jerry was pleased.

  After doing a white balance for all three cameras and the slate, Rose repeated her instructions again. “Tanya and Anthony, just remember to be yourselves. Ignore the cameras, and simply respond to me and each other just as though there were no cameras at all in the room."

  Rose dropped the slate sheet behind her chair as Pete called speed on the record deck. Idan pointed at Rose. “On three. One, two..."

  “In less than twenty-four hours, the Los Gatos Triage Center will begin receiving its first patients from the Silicon Valley area to the north. Like any organization, there will always be one or two people who really make the whole operation work. Today, we will get to know the two people who will come to represent the heart and soul of this facility.” She gestured towards Tanya. “To my right is Lieutenant Colonel Tanya Wheelwright, the center administrator,” and then towards Anthony. “And to my left is Captain Anthony Jarman, the End of Life Management Officer or ELMO for short. However, most people will simply know Captain Jarman as the releaser."

  She shifted her body slightly in Tanya's direction. “Colonel Wheelwright, let's begin with you. Could you briefly tell me what you do here?"

  As a hospital administrator, Tanya had conducted several television interviews and was comfortable with the task. “Well, Rose,” she began, “I suppose the best way to describe my job here is that the buck stops with me. Simply put, it is my job to see to it that this center is run in the most efficient and humane way possible. While the vast majority of those who will come to this triage center will be terminal patients and come under Captain Jarman's care, those we can save will be entrusted to the capable hands of Major Jim Boole, my Chief Medical Officer, and his staff. The work of both of these men is very important, and supporting their efforts is my most important responsibility."

  Rose could quickly see that Tanya knew how to deliver a polished monologue. If she hoped to get her to reveal her inner self, Rose would have to blind-side her with a trick question. But that would come later. For now, she needed to make them both comfortable and the first thing she needed to do, was to dispense with the formality of job titles.

  “Tanya, I noticed in your profile summary that you were born and raised in Russia and just received your American citizenship about five years ago. So, how is it that you're here running a sizable military operation?"

  “Like Captain Jarman, here, I was called up."

  Rose turned her body the other direction towards Anthony. “On that note, Captain Jarman, could you briefly tell us about your job and what you do here?"

  “In a nutshell,” he answered, “I help people to cross over."

  “Earlier this morning,” Rose noted, “We shot a good deal of footage of the quarantine areas, main reception ward and the burial trenches. Could you tell us what it is you do in these different areas?"

  “When people arrive here, Dr. Boole and his staff divide them up into two basic groups: those who have a terminal affliction and those who can be treated. All those who are terminal are taken to the quarantine area, where they can choose to remain till they die of natural causes. If they choose to exercise their UNE right of assisted suicide, we make them stay at least one night in quarantine, and then in the morning, they are escorted to the trenches, where I help them to pass over."

  “As I understand it, you shoot a .22 caliber bullet into their head."

  “Only the ambulatory patients as per UNE mandate—children and the bed-ridden are given lethal injections” he replied. “For the ambulatory, those who can still walk, I aim the bullet at the top of the brain stem. It is the fastest way to die for those who choose it. Or if they wish, they can remain in the quarantine area and self-medicate themselves with enough Heroine to achieve the same result; however, I never assist in the quarantine area. Only at the trenches and sometimes in the wards."

  She nodded and asked, “Is this how you did it at the other triage centers?"

  “Pretty much."

  “So how in the world did you ever get into this?” The question struck a dark chord with Jarman.

  He crossed his legs and scratched his forearm. “I've always been interested in metaphysics, and I worked briefly a
s a volunteer hospice caregiver and showed a natural talent for comforting people in the final moments of their lives. You have to understand; when people cross over, they are always surrounded by a tremendous amount of spiritual energy. As their caregiver, you're not personally involved with them, so the end of their life can be a very powerful experience."

  Rose saw the trick question she'd been looking for. All she had to do now was to set it up. “So then, Anthony, what is death to you?"

  He'd been asked this question so many times; the answer gushed forth automatically. “Well, Rose, it is just one part of a process that encompasses the cycle of life. Death is neither good nor bad. It just is, and for those who will pass over in this center, it must come as a friend for them, or I will have no part of it."

  “Thank you, Anthony,” Rose said as she swiveled the other way to face Tanya. “And what is death to you, Tanya?"

  While Anthony's eyes had showed no emotion, a fire radiated from Tanya's eyes that seemed to telegraph her answer. “Death is my enemy,” she said in a firm voice devoid of the softness she had shown earlier. “Each morning when I get up, I go to work with the hope I can snatch as many lives from the jaws of death that day as possible. I hate death and cheating it really makes my day."

  Rose looked back quickly at Anthony for a reaction. She expected to see some sense of alarm, but his face remained passive and relatively unaffected. He had likewise heard these kind of feelings being expressed more than once before.

  As the next question formed in her mind, she wondered how she and Idan could have sensed a historical connection between these two. He was resigned to his fate, and she, on the other hand was full of anger and purpose. How could two people like this share a common future?

  From Idan's behind-the-camera view, the situation was framed in an entirely different paradigm. As he worked the controls of the switcher, his eyes traveled back and forth between Anthony and Tanya. Unlike Rose, he had a wider view of the interaction and could see subtle, yet often repeated, signs of two people interested in learning about each other. Yet, it would be a strange bonding experience, as these two were like fire and ice. But then, what was it his matchmaker had once told him—opposites attract. If so, these two were opposites and quite busy hiding their mutual attraction from one another. Later that evening, he would play back the tapes for Rose, and she'd see it too.

  * * *

  For the Motherland

  AS HE SLIPPED on his VR gloves, Merl Johnston wondered why Melissa Chadwick, former Southwestern UNE Governor for America, now the head of UNE Space Command in Las Vegas, had scheduled a high priority conference with Secretary General De Bono and himself.

  He sealed the door of his security dome and initialized the desktop of his heads-up display. A ready icon blinked steadily under a freeze frame of Melissa Chadwick in Las Vegas, indicating that she was already online and waiting for the conference to begin. The icon for De Bono indicated that he had not yet logged on to the conference account. Johnston studied Chadwick's face as she waited passively for the conference to begin. A smallish middle-aged woman with broad shoulders and a chiseled jaw, what he noticed most about her was her thin, pursed lips and beady, black eyes.

  While beautiful in a very precise way, she struck him as being cool, calculating and brilliant. A true reflection of the woman's competitive reputation, she lacked any semblance of a soft, feminine allure. “But then,” he thought to himself, “if she looked soft, could she really strike fear in a man's heart?"

  Like many women her age, she preferred to wear her hair short with a swept-back flair. While he could see a slight lift in her eyebrows from a recent cosmetic surgery to remove her age-lines, she still had the honesty to leave a touch of gray here and there in her dark brown hair. Chadwick presented an interesting juxtaposition of vanity and personal honesty.

  A symbol of a large door appeared in the center of his HUD. He could wait for De Bono before entering, but decided to logon now, hoping to pry a little advance information from her before the conference began. He grasped the door handle and swung it open, entering himself into the conference room.

  “Hey, handsome,” Melissa greeted him cheerfully. “Looks like it is just the two of us for a while.” She wiggled her eyebrows with a devilish grin. “So how do you and Danielle like the penthouse?"

  He smiled sheepishly. “I gotta hand it to you Melissa, you are one heck of an interior designer. The bear rug in the master bedroom is so nice. I'm sure you and your handsome young secretary, Paulo Sanchez, christened it in the most proper way."

  She rolled her eyes and winked. “Well I must admit; Paulo was delightfully creative."

  “I'm sure."

  “So I heard through the grapevine that your wife, Ginny, is on a tear now."

  “Yeah, she's seeing lipstick on the collar, you might say. She says she won't come back to me until I get rid of Danielle."

  “Sorry to hear it, but you know, it happens to most all of the guys. As for me, I'm the lucky one. My daughter's father was an anonymous sperm donor from Finland, who thankfully turned out to be good breeding stock. I can't imagine how miserable I'd be if I had a husband right now."

  The line of conversation, though unassuming and sympathetic, was nonetheless becoming both uninteresting and personally uncomfortable for Merl and he decided to change the topic. “Well, I'll manage, I suppose. Say, I've been wondering how your project is going. Have America and Russia designated their respective project heads yet?"

  Chadwick took the hint without batting an eye. “Well, the Russians are still playing musical chairs, but I did have an interesting conversation with New Obninsk Centre Director, Igor Razumovsky. What I can gather is that the Russians have decided that their effort will be based in Obninsk, outside of Moscow. As to who is going to run the show, I'm not sure it will be Razumovsky. He's certainly capable, but too old for that kind of role."

  “So does he have someone younger in mind?"

  She nodded, “I think he does. You know how cryptic they can be, but I think he's looking for a young Sergei Korolyov to head this project to destroy Shiva."

  “Sergei Korolyov?"

  “He headed the Soviet space program at the Baikonur cosmodrome at the outset of the space race. He's the guy who put the Sputnik into orbit back in 1957 and scared the pants off the Americans."

  “Oh I remember him now. You're right; what they need is someone like him. I wish them luck. So what about the Americans?"

  His question brought a small smile to her lips. “They've made their choice for a director to head up their Space Ark program and I think it was a brilliant one. They've picked Major General George Hennicker of the US Space Command."

  “Isn't he the guy that's been the head of their Near Earth Object detection program?"

  “Yes, but I think the real reason why they picked him was that he wrote a biography of General Leslie R. Groves, who was the director of the Manhattan Project during WWII. He wrote it after graduating the United States Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs, Colorado, and it has become required reading at his alma mater, as well as West Point.” “That makes sense,” Johnston agreed. “The Manhattan Project was the biggest single effort of the American government at that time, and he ran it brilliantly, even though the final result was the utter destruction of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. So, you think the Americans think he'll be another General Grove?"

  She glanced off screen and pursed her lips as she considered the thought. “Yeah, Merl. You've got the right take on it. As for me, the guy looks like a middle-aged Rambo with a small beer gut. I like his fire. If anyone can pull it off, he can."

  “Well, congratulations are in order. It sounds like you're making great progress. So tell me, what is the reason for this conference."

  “Sorry Merl,” she quickly replied. “Can't go there. Not till the Secretary General has joined the conference.” Johnston stepped back from the issue, they chatted idly about their perks, lovers and other idle matters until De Bono fin
ally joined the conference.

  “Melissa, Merl, sorry for being late. I was caught up with some last minute matters. A priority conference like this is a bit unusual, so what's on your mind, Melissa?"

  “It's about Anthony Jarman and Senator Chavez.” De Bono and Johnston groaned simultaneously. More bad news was coming. They already knew about the Holocaust Survivors Film Project arrival at the Los Gatos Triage Center. “This morning, we intercepted a message from Queen Pilolevu of Tonga to Senator Chavez assuring her that they would not change the transponder address for the BBC on their new TupouSat communications satellite. That got us curious and so we've been monitoring their TupouSat traffic and this morning at 0400, we detected a broadband uplink test from the Los Gatos Triage Center. We traced the packets to a download retransmission site outside of Montreal. It is obvious that they intend to begin broadcasting from Los Gatos on a daily basis."

  “Damn,” Johnston muttered under his breath. “Isn't there anything we can do to prevent this?"

  “I'm afraid not. The Tongans rely upon their TupouSat transponder lease revenue to keep their little island going these days, and the lease for this transponder has been prepaid through the end of next year."

  “But the TupouSat is sitting in geo-stationary orbit in a North American satellite slot. So why can't we just pull the slot? The only other birds up there are not under our direct control, because Fox and CNN own them. If we force the TupouSat back over the South Pacific and another network tries to pick up the lease, then we'll see to it they lose their pharmaceutical ad revenues. That will put the fear of God into their board of directors."

  Melissa shook her head no and De Bono said flatly, “I think the other shoe is about to drop Merl."

  She took her cue. “Normally, Merl, what you said would work just fine. However, when America ratified the UNE treaty, Senator Chavez added a small addendum that seemed to have gotten lost in all the other more expensive pork barrel projects assuring that one satellite slot would be used exclusively for international news broadcasters and Tonga got the contract. Apparently, it was cheaper for the BBC to send up an unmanned repair satellite to fix their own TongaSat bird and so after Loral finished building their new TupouSat, they had Lockheed put it into orbit in the North American slot. If we try to control access to that bird now, or pull Tonga's slot, the American Congress will have to reexamine the whole ratification document."