by Amy Jones
Shyam
“The precision of naming takes away from the uniqueness of seeing.”
~Pierre Bonnard
I sat impatiently waiting in the shade of a large oak tree. I had sent word to my love, Anastajza, the Oracle of Death, through Salomon, the Elder Guardian Spirit of Peace. Salomon was not pleased to have to pass my message on to Ana but I had pestered him enough to convince him to go through with it. Elder Salomon takes the form of wind, making it impossible for him to escape me and my incessant nagging. Finally, he agreed to summon her and even more remarkably she agreed to meet me here today.
“OK, so I’m here. What do you want from me Shayan?” she asked begrudgingly when she stepped into the shade offered under the grand oak.
I tightened my lips to prevent myself from snapping at her disrespectful tone. It had been three years since I last saw my beautiful Ana. I did not invite her here today to fight with her. I wanted to make amends and share with her my dreams and desires of a life with her.
“I still love you, Ana… very much.” I began. She remained quiet. “I know it has been a long time but I have remained true to you. I still want to be with you. I know I am not permitted in Arcadia but there is nothing to stop you and I from loving each other here on Earth, my new home.” I finally explained the intentions of my invitation.
For a moment Ana looked at me with the same crystal blue eyes that once loved me, only now I recognized a new longing within them. “Why should I trust you? How can I know that your heart isn’t filled with darkness?” she begged of me.
She missed me too. I realized now that it had not been easy for her to let me go. I shouldn’t punish her for being weaker than me. Just because I was brave enough to stand up to that tyrant, Hala didn’t mean she was. Well, I would protect her now… if she still wants me. I moved toward her slowly so as not to startle or threaten her. She’s anxious enough as it is.
“Why don’t I start by telling you a little bit about what has happened to me since I, uhm, left Arcadia?” I suggested. She nodded for me to continue. “Alright, I came to Plymouth three years ago in an attempt to mentor John Carver, Gaea’s mortal charge.”
“John Carver is dead. Gaea has transformed into her Elder form.” she noted.
“Yes, I know, his death was unfortunate. A little over a year and three quarters ago he fell ill and passed.” I said solemnly. I had tried my best with John. “In fact, a great portion of the colony had fallen victim to the harsh winter of 1621. None the less, we have carried on in spite of the adversities we have faced. Today our little colony is flourishing.” I said proudly.
Ana was suddenly startled by my expression. Her eyes narrowed and she blew up at me.
“You are proud of this, Shayan? What have you done that is honorable toward these people? The Englishmen arrived in Plymouth with a head count of nearly one – hundred and thirty people. Today, three short years later, your so – called thriving colony’s population dwindles at less than fifty - three persons. Who have you been protecting, Shayan? You’ve lost more than a third of your people to starvation, Scurvy and poor shelter from the elements. What’s worse, you’ve exploited the natives and forced them to adopt a lifestyle that is entirely foreign to their own… and why, because you deemed this best for them? You’re a hypocrite, Shayan! You have dealt these Wampanoags the same hand of cards you accuse Hala of tendering to you.” Ana accused me.
I could feel myself coming undone so I took a deep breath before I responded to her accusation.
“I’ve done the best I can. The ending result could have been much worse. John wouldn’t see reason and the people of the colony revered his every word. I had to take some drastic measures but the colony is stable now.” I reassured her. “…and I’ve been more than fair to the natives. They’re still here aren’t they? They have food and shelter and everything they need to survive. Unlike some leaders, whose name I will not mention, I did not banish the Indians from their home.” I defended myself.
“Stable? Fair? Are you serious, Shayan?” Ana laughed with out humor. “Do you honestly believe the lies that are spewing from your own lips?” she insulted me.
“It’s not so bad, Ana. Listen to me. I don’t want to fight with you. I love you, I miss you and I want you. We could get married and settle here in Plymouth. We could be human, together…” I changed the subject.
“Human? What are you talking about Shayan? Hala has refused to make you human, you know that.” she insisted.
“I don’t need him to change me. I’ve already done it myself, or close enough.” I admitted. Ana’s eyes studied me warily. This was the part of the conversation I dreaded broaching with her but I had to be honest. I did not want there to be any secrets between us. “I’m not crazy, Ana. I’ve changed… for the better. I’m not mortal but I appear mortal enough to them.”
“What? They can see you? How, what have you done, Shayan?” she demanded.
So, I told her what I had done to the sad woman I found suffering alone. I explained the transformation my body endured in becoming a Daeva and the benefits that followed. She was in shock but I didn’t stop talking. I finally invited her to join me, to become a Daeva just like me… and instantly regretted it.
“You are a murderer, Shayan! Your heart is as black and cold as the void within it. I want no part of you or your darkness. You are never to speak to me again.” she warned before she flew off into the cloud scattered blue sky toward the Heavens.
Anastazja had abandoned and rejected me for the last time. I gave up on her and Arcadia for good. I began my new life as a Daeva, disguising myself as a mortal. I changed my name to Shyam, tacking on the surname, Donovan in an added effort to blend into the human world. I no longer wished to be addressed by the name chosen for me by Hala, the Great Spirit.
“Never again shall I embrace the name or life intended for me by my enemies. Answering to that name only serves as a consistent and painful reminder of the disappointment and betrayal I was unfairly dealt. Shayan, the Oracle of Humanity, is forever dead.”
I finally succumbed to my new destiny as a spirit of darkness.
Chapter Nine
Shyam Donovan
Time: 1923
Place: Munich
Beer Hall Putsch
“Humanitarianism is the expression of stupidity and cowardice.”
~ Adolph Hitler
“Generals think war should be waged like the tourneys of the Middles Ages. I have no use for knights; I need revolutionaries.” I growled at Adolph Hitler, leader of the National Socialist German Workers Party. “The Chancellor’s decision to end the general strike in the Ruhr and pay reparations to France has created the political instability we need to move forward with our plan. The cowards of the triumvirate, Kahr, Lossow and Seisser, will be our window of opportunity.”
“What do you suggest we do, my lord?” Hitler uttered nervously.
“We will capture the triumvirate on Totengedenktag (the German Memorial Day). Kahr, Lossow and Seisser will be on a stand taking the salute from the troops during the parade. We’ll arrive early and shut off the street by setting up machine guns. Then we’ll force the triumvirate to join the revolution.” I explained.
Hitler was considering my words.
“I will meet with the others and set things in motion.” he finally replied.
His face was scarlet red and beads of sweat formed on his forehead and trickled down his temples.
On the day of the parade we arrived in Munich to find the streets well protected by the police. We needed to devise another plan, and quickly. Initially, we decided to march into Munich and seize its strategic points on the anniversary of the armistice but we decided to scrap that idea after learning of Kahr’s meeting at the Buergerbraukeller (a beer hall). The entire triumvirate would be there and we could force them at gun point.
“How can you be sure they will bend to our will?” Hitler worried.
“It is as simple as appealing to basic senses, my friend.
Those who want to live, let them fight, and those who do not want to fight in this world of eternal struggle do not deserve to live.”
I stood outside of the Buergerbraukeller with Hitler. The hall was filling up quickly with thousands of people gathering for the evening to drink beer and engage in political or social debates. Soon this rally would be corralled and reassigned.
“Are your cohorts set in place, Adolph?” I had to ask.
Hitler saw Germany’s central government as betrayers. After the aftermath of World War I, Hitler, then an Army corporal, was ordered to infiltrate the German Workers Party. He quickly rose to its top post in the midst of the political chaos. His current political standing gained him access to about fifteen thousand brawlers, mostly ex – soldiers.
“The Sturmabteilung (SA – paramilitary organization of the German Nazi Party) and my associates are all in place. We’ve got the hall surrounded, complete with a machine gun aimed at the auditorium doors.” Hitler nodded.
“It’s eight – thirty, surely the triumvirates guests are all present and accounted for. Let’s go!” I shouted.
Myself, Hitler, his twenty associates and some six – hundred Sturmabteiling men rushed the building. We laboriously waded through the mob of stunned people. The crowd panicked when Adolph fired a single gun shot into the ceiling and jumped on a chair commanding everyone’s attention.
“The national revolution has broken out! The hall is filled with six – hundred men. Nobody is allowed to leave.” Hitler announced threateningly. “The Bavarian government and the government at Berlin are deposed. A new government will be formed at once. The barracks of the Reichswehr and those of the police are occupied. Both have rallied to the swastika.” he lied.
Hitler, accompanied by Hess, Lenk and Graf, forced the triumvirate into a side room and demanded they support his putsch or suffer death. Meanwhile, some of Hitler’s associates were attempting to maintain calm in the main hall. Others made phone calls to additional supporters and issued orders to seize key buildings through out the city. Irritated with the lack of cooperation from the triumvirate, Hitler returned to the main hall to redirect the people being held captive. His words were simple but I enhanced each one of them using all of the compulsion I could muster as he quietly spoke.
“Outside are Kahr, Lossow and Seisser. They are struggling hard to reach a decision. May I say to them that you will stand behind them?” Adolph mused and the audience roared in approval. My compulsion had worked. “You can see that what motivates us is neither self-conceit or self-interest, but only a burning desire to join the battle in this grave eleventh hour for our German Fatherland ... One last thing I can tell you. Either the German revolution begins tonight and the morrow will find us in Germany a true nationalist government, or it will find us dead by dawn!” he finished with zest.
Upon hearing the reaction of the crowd and additional coercion from Ludendorff, whose personal prestige was being utilized to give the Nazis credibility, the triumvirate reluctantly caved in. Hitler announced the concession of the triumvirate to the crowd in the auditorium and the group of people was permitted to leave the beer hall. The rest of the evening was marked by chaos. People were confused about where their loyalties should lie. They began taking sides. As a result the first casualties of the putsch occurred in the wee hours of the morning at three AM.
“What time is it?” I asked of Hitler.
“Eight, maybe nine o’clock. Still fairly early… I’ve ordered the seizure of the Munich city council as hostages.” he added.
He looked tired and forlorn.
“… then why so glum?” I challenged.
“The putsh is going nowhere. I am at a loss of what to do next.” he begrudgingly admitted.
At that moment Ludendorff burst into the room. “We will march!” he shouted.
Ludendoroff and Hitler’s forces together totaled approximately two – thousand men. On the spur of the moment Ludendorff led them to the Bavarian Defense Ministry with out a plan. They were met with resistance in front of the Feldherrenhalle resulting in the deaths of four state police officers and sixteen Nazis. Hitler was injured and attempted to escape but was captured shortly thereafter.
Kahr and Lossow were not as easily compelled as Hitler. Both triumvirates were convinced to repudiate the putsch.
“They are cowards, conforming to whatever power dangles a sword over there head. We shall see how well they are forgiven for their weakness. They will forever be labeled as Judases and traitors. This is only the beginning.” I promised myself.
Chapter Ten
Shyam Donovan
Time: 1963
Place: Los Angeles, California
The Assassination Conspiracy
“I am as innocent regarding any conspiracy as any of you gentlemen in this room.”
~Jack Ruby
As I gazed around the familiar hall housing the gun show I was greeted with a familiar smiling face. I’d met the gentleman several years ago and on many occasions. This is not an unusual or chance meeting in my line of work. These days I pass my time and earn my fortune by selling fire arms. The face of relaxed recognition approaching me now is a regular customer.
“Hello Sirhan. How has life been treating you?” I inquired politely.
“Not too bad… and yourself?” he returned easily.
Over the years I’ve had the opportunity to gain the trust and respect of this man just as I have the three other human men I’ve recently rallied to my cause. Today’s goal will be to compel Sirhan into my ranks too.
What is this cause I refer to, you may wonder? Perhaps I should begin with the secondary priority in the matter. The priority that is necessary to support my primary cause. The secondary priority is necessary only to insure my innocence along the journey. This has been my motivation for pursuing and acquiring assistance from Sirhan and the three other humans. These men lack credibility. They are introverts, loners and a few are just plain crazy. I intend to compel them into doing my bidding and watch them suffer the consequences. Afterward I’ll walk away with out an ounce of suspicion to deface my exemplar reputation.
So, how will I get these men to help, you now puzzle? It’s simple, hatred. Whether their hatred manifests itself in the form of revenge, prejudice or insanity I have no concern because it is this hatred that binds them to my task. I’ve lured them in by forming an assassination conspiracy. Everyone needs someone to blame for their problems, right? Of course they do. So, my little assassination conspiracy will target the culprits to these supposed betrayers, the most powerfully influential American political and spiritual leaders of the day and time; John F. Kennedy, Robert F. Kennedy and Martin Luther King, Jr.
Now, what is my primary cause? Power, of course… It is my sole objective to weaken and cripple the order and spirit of the American people. I will wreak havoc on The United States of America so that I may one day take my rightful place as the President of this awesome country. Securing the political spot as leader of one of the world’s largest and most powerful nations will be the beginning of my quest toward world domination.
“So Sirhan, my dear friend, have you made a decision regarding the opportunity I extended toward you on our last rendezvous?” I prodded.
Hopefully my compulsion is taking effect. Sirhan looked at me sternly for just one moment before tossing his head back in laughter. He was teasing me.
“Of course I have Shyam. I wouldn’t pass up this chance up for anything.” he grinned. “What’s next?”
Sirhan’s eyes sparkled with intensity and excitement. I had him for sure.
Two weeks later in Manhattan I found myself sitting with the four gentlemen. We gathered around the dining room table of my suite at the Waldorf Astoria Hotel. It was time to make plans.
“Thank you for coming Sirhan, James, Lee and David. I’m delighted to know that I am not alone on my mission for justice in this newly misguided world.”
“Amen to that.” echoed David.
This ma
n is about as dense as they come but his heart is one hundred percent committed.
“Here is what I propose we do. It seems obvious to me that the major threats at hand politically are President Kennedy and that brother of his, Robert. I want to silence this black preacher man too but these fools continue to support his cause.” I began.
“So, we knock off John Kennedy, Robert Kennedy and Martin Luther King, Jr?” Lee inquired. “Fine with me, but I get to put a bullet in the President as payback for what he did to Castro.”
“Speaking of bullets… tell us about this magic bullet of yours again Shyam.” James smiled.
This was another strategy I used to lure the men into my plans. It is true that I have created a magic bullet of sorts but I don’t dare share all of the details involved in developing it. What makes this bullet magic is my DNA. I’ve injected each bullet with enough DNA to dissolve the fired shell and destroy the surrounding flesh of the newly made wound. This effect will make it impossible for the authorities and medics to trace any bullets to their source.
“My magic bullet, as you like to call it, has been designed using a special chemical bond which I can not identify. Sorry, copyright laws and all of that… Anyway, the bullet I’ve designed is entirely untraceable. No medical or fire arms expert will be able to identify the gun used to fire the fatal bullet. In fact, they will not be able to retrieve the bullet itself because it disintegrates upon impacting human flesh.”
Four male faces stared back at me with awed expression.