The New Reality

by Stephen Martino

  No matter what one’s beliefs were, there was most certainly a sense of divine closeness in this small religious sanctuary.

  “Jonathan,” Alex asked, “any clue as to what we’re trying to find here?”

  “Again,” he answered, “the code can only lead us in the right direction. The rest is up to us. Just as the Bible is a roadmap for mankind to follow, it is our free will whether we want to heed its guiding words or not.”

  “But can’t there be another layer of this code you haven’t explored yet?” Alex asked. “You showed us how the code progressed to this point. There has to be a next level. Sort of like the onion example you gave us.”

  “How about constructing the code in a three-dimensional fashion instead of a two-dimensional grid?” Marissa contemplated aloud.

  “You are both right,” Jonathan agreed. “I have looked into not only a three but also a four-dimensional layout with time being the extra dimension—both without success. I do not debate there is more to find, but how to find it is debatable.”

  William looked over towards him. “You know Jonathan, you’re a great guy and all that, but sometimes this Bible code thing makes more sense to me than your answers.”

  Jonathan shrugged his shoulders and gave only a friendly grin in response. Without any direct guidance, they continued to search the area, examining every fresco, piece of art, and cross. William even hoisted Guri onto his shoulders to get a better look in the crack in the cave’s ceiling.

  “Put your hand into it,” William implored. “See if you can pull anything out of it.”

  Guri tentatively did as directed, guided by the small flashlight given to him by Marissa. “What if there’s a snake or a bug in there? I might be allergic to it.”

  “Don’t worry!” William yelled up to him. “Alex knows the new Heimlich maneuver.”

  The crack yielded no treasures, and after a few minutes Guri had to be lowered to the ground. William’s back could no longer take the extra weight.

  “I know all these frescos and other pieces of art are beautiful,” Alex commented, “but I think we should be searching for something that was around during John’s time. Everything in here has been placed well over a thousand years after his death.”

  “I hate to say it,” Marissa said, “but there’s nothing else but rock. Unless we take down these frescos or start removing some of this art from the wall, there’s not much more to see.”

  It almost seemed sacrilegious to touch anything in this area. Alex, along with everyone else, contemplated the moral repercussions of doing so.

  “All I have to say,” William insisted as he put his foot down, “is that we should be searching the fortress place on top of the hill. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not in for another mile walk, but it looks like that’s where we need to be.”

  “You’re right!” Alex immediately agreed, thinking a few steps ahead of him. “You are completely right!”

  William nodded in approval. “I’m just a guy trying to help out around here. No thanks is needed.”

  “William’s right,” Alex again reiterated, looking at everyone else. “Just like how Megiddo sits atop a hill, the monastery is located on top of the largest hill here on the island. It has to be more than a simple coincidence.

  “But isn’t that the case for every ancient city?” Marissa questioned. “Don’t you think you may be drawing too quick of a conclusion?”

  “Listen to Alex,” William interrupted, “he’s on to something here.” It truly did not matter what Alex had to say at this point. As long as it began with William is right, he could have said just about anything after without any rebuttal from his friend.

  “There’s more to it,” Alex added. “Jonathan, didn’t you say the basilica was built on top of the hill where the monastery sits now?”

  “The Grand Royal Basilica dedicated to John,” he concurred.

  “What if Father Christodoulos found something in those ruins and decided to build a new and better equipped fort around it? You also said there’s great treasure housed within those stone walls. What if the greatest treasure to be found inside is knowledge, some knowledge that was imparted to John but never revealed?”

  “What about this cave then?” Guri asked. “I thought this place was supposed to be where John lived and did all his writing.”

  “Maybe it wasn’t,” Alex said. “The Chapel of St. Anna and the monastery were both commissioned at the same time in 1088. What if the chapel here was just built as a decoy for the real treasure, which lies on top of the hill? Plus, if this cave had any true religious significance, why wasn’t it commemorated back when the Grand Royal Basilica had been built before Father Christodoulos came to the island?”

  He looked at Marissa. “You taught Sunday school. Is there anything in the Book of Revelation about a cave on this island?”

  “Well,” she responded. “No.”

  “Though I can’t take away this place’s beauty and religious allure,” Alex concluded, “I just don’t think we’re going to find what we’re looking for here.”

  No one refuted Alex’s conclusion. His words resonated well with each of them and sounded logical. If they were to find a cure any time soon, ransacking this iconic religious sanctuary would not be the answer.

  “Then we must make haste and be off to the monastery,” Jonathan finally said, with only nods of agreement meeting his decision.

  Chapter 31

  Like her colleagues, Samantha also utilized some of the last 24 hours to catch up on some needed sleep. Running only on fumes, she almost collapsed after last speaking with them. Her head rested upon the cold, hard console outside the autopsy room. She was so tired that she could have fallen asleep on a pile of bricks without a complaint.

  During her slumber multiple experiments continued to run, most trying to ascertain some cure or a means to curtail the carnage propagated by The Disease. She had prepared them to run prior to falling asleep, hoping one would yield something tangible.

  Drool ran down the side of her mouth and collected on the console. As she slowly lifted her head a long string formed, finally snapping down its center once she sat back into her chair.

  “I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus!”

  Samantha brushed her fingers through her hair and pushed a few strands behind her ear so she could see.

  “What I would give to take a shower right about now.” She looked around the bunker. “A billion dollar facility and it doesn’t even have a place to wash your hair. Who designed this place?”

  Though she complained about the accommodations, there were self-cleaning bathing blankets that she could wrap around her whole body to wash herself. Griping about the situation, however, seemed much more satisfying.

  She examined the progress of her experiments on the console. Nothing. Uniformly, they all produced no meaningful results. It seemed that if the Bergmann gene became activated in anything other than embryonic tissue, it would prove to be a death sentence.

  Samantha switched a few parameters on one of the experiments and tried a different biochemical technique on another. After these initial results, her expectations were low. Never had she seen an illness both so unique and lethal. The longer her testing continued, the less confident she became about finding a cure.

  Even with all her scientific knowledge and belief that she could accomplish anything, Samantha was left with the conclusion that this disease might wipe out all of humanity after all. Unless she found something soon, this possibility seemed an imminent reality.

  The world would quickly forget our presence. Humanity would just be a tiny, yet interesting, blip on earth’s four billion-year timeline, quickly forgotten in the vastness of the universe.

  A lump formed in her throat as she contemplated the enormity of these consequences. All the problems that plagued her before this began seemed suddenly infinitesimal. With a philosophical air she thought about what she would write if given an opportunity to scribe humanity’s epitaph.

&
nbsp; “They tried to play God and now are with Him”? “Tinkering with the genetic code is like playing Russian Roulette”?

  She threw up her hands and laughed. “I got it,” she said aloud. “‘They were just a bunch of dumb-asses who thought they knew everything’.”

  Laughing was her way to deal with any stressful situation. Before she could mentally amuse herself anymore, a loud crash caught her attention.

  She looked around the bunker to see if any more necroids had somehow invaded the facility. Another crash brought her to her feet. This time she realized the noise originated above ground.

  Samantha looked at the screens and saw two of the police vehicles had crashed into one another. Cops scurried around the scene and turned their large spotlight onto the accident site.

  Two cars bellowed smoke from their hoods as green liquid spewed from underneath them. Interestingly, they were both vacant. It was as if they had been possessed.

  Samantha walked up to one of the screens and shook her head. “This is no poltergeist!” she screeched. “It’s those damn necroids! They got into the cars.”

  It quickly became obvious that more than just the cars had been affected. A fire truck that originally seemed to be heading to the scene of the accident began to pick up speed as it haphazardly drove down Neurono-Tek’s main street.

  The sleek, red vehicle was vaguely reminiscent of its 20th century predecessors. Shaped more like a bullet, the truck still had multiple hoses attached to its side along with the traditional red flashing lights and sirens along its top.

  Samantha watched in horror as the truck barreled into the two smashed cars, throwing them up into the air and down on the crowd of emergency personnel. The fire engine continued its rampage, smashing into other cars, knocking over street signs, and running over bystanders until it crashed into the front of a tall building at the end of the road.

  The front half of the vehicle became embedded into the building. Its lights and sirens still blared while white soapy foam trickled out from its sides. Screams of agony lay in its wake. The injured were scattered along the streets while overturned cars trapped a few of the emergency personnel. Neurono-Tek had become a war zone.

  The bomb squad immediately descended onto the area. Dressed in padded black uniforms and transparent helmets, they surrounded the fire truck and began to disassemble its inner electrical circuitry. They also searched for any surreptitiously placed contraband.

  Everyone on the scene assumed Neurono-Tek had come under some type of terrorist attack. Within minutes, the bomb squad had most of the truck’s inner electrical circuitry disemboweled and placed alongside of it. This vehicle would pose no further threat.

  “Stay calm,” a voice bellowed from each of their uniform’s lapel microphones, “and stay vigilant. Report to central command anything strange the instant you see it.”

  Samantha heard the warning and could not help but laugh. “Thanks for the heads-up, buddy!”

  “Get me whoever is in charge out there,” she then blurted as she activated her console’s emergency line. The signal immediately went out to the central dispatcher’s office and forwarded to the official directing the scene aboveground at Neurono-Tek.

  “Commander Gorman here,” a loud, gruff voice responded within a few seconds of her request.

  Samantha looked up to one of the screens and saw the man responding to her call.

  “Gorman here!” he reiterated before giving her a chance to speak.

  “Yes,” Samantha said, trying to sound both pleasant and calm at the same time. “This is Dr. Mancini and I…”

  “I don’t care who you are lady,” he abruptly interrupted. “I’m in the midst of a major incident right now and don’t have time for any house calls. How did you get dispatched to me in the first place!”

  Samantha watched him on the screen as he finished his tirade. The man looked like a high school bully. With a short crew cut, chiseled jaw, and muscles so big they bulged out of his uniform, he seemed as if after this incident were all over, he would take everybody’s lunch money.

  Samantha cleared her throat. “Excuse me?” she said. “This is Dr. Mancini, one of Neurono-Tek’s top executives.”

  “Lady,” he countered, “I don’t care if you’re the Queen of Sheba. I don’t like any interruptions when I’m in a critical situation.”

  Samantha’s tolerance immediately came to an end. The disrespectful tone was one thing, but getting called lady twice crossed the line.

  “Listen here Commander Gorman! I’m positioned right underneath you here in Neurono-Tek’s secure bunker and can see everything that’s going on around you. If you would stop being a bonehead and listen to me for a second, I can tell you what’s happening up there!”

  The shrill of her voice left the hulk of a man speechless. With his mouth agape, he stood there stunned as if he had been verbally manhandled.

  “Remember those ugly bugs that killed one of your men yesterday?” she continued in the same tone. “They’re called necroids, and somehow they must have gotten into a few of your vehicles and taken control of them.”

  “I don’t care what they’re called,” he finally said. “I just want to know how we can stop them before they destroy this whole damn place and the men and women sent here to secure it.”

  Despite his gruff exterior the question was valid, and Samantha had no answer. All of her experiments had been on The Disease and none had been dedicated to procuring any information about the necroids. She had used liquid oxygen to dispose of them, but this method would certainly not be feasible under these different circumstances.

  Before Samantha had a chance to answer, one of the bomb squad’s large black trucks slammed into a parked police car behind the commander. The impact jolted him to the ground, instantly ending their heated communication.

  “Commander Gorman!” Samantha shouted. “Are you alright?”

  She received no response but continued to ask the same question until she saw him slowly pull himself back to a standing position. A few of his colleagues were not as lucky. A car pinned down two of them while another three laid motionless on the ground with blood trickling from their ears.

  The whole area erupted to life as other vehicles began to drive erratically and collide with buildings, people, or other cars. Many of the emergency medical personnel found it impossible to tend to all the injured. Those that attempted to do so became instant casualties themselves.

  “Evacuate by foot!” Commander Gorman yelled. “Leave all vehicles behind. This is a direct order! Evacuate Neurono-Tek at once!”

  Chapter 32

  SattAr entered Ari’s office only to be accosted by his wife’s unwelcome snarl and a myriad of self-gratifying pictures of the Malik along the walls. The silence and lack of emotional response by either Ari or Masika made him feel as if he were at a funeral.

  “Malik,” SattAr greeted with the proper bow and saluted with the O above his head. “You have requested my presence.”

  “Yes I have,” Ari responded as if speaking to a group of a hundred or more.

  Ari arose from behind his desk and casually strolled over to where SattAr stood. Masika remained in the corner of the room and silently watched. With every second her animosity towards SattAr brewed more intense.

  “Do you know why I called for you?” Ari asked.

  SattAr shook his head side-to-side. “No I do not, Malik.”

  “I grow despondent,” he continued, “that Alex Pella and the rest of his cronies will soon discover a cure for The Disease.” He paused a second. “And do you know why I am concerned about this?”

  “No, Malik,” SattAr answered.

  “You see,” Ari explained, “I have come to the conclusion that the true success of the UAA relies on the West not obtaining a cure for The Disease before we do.”

  “The West will hold the cure over our heads,” Masika chimed in through clenched teeth, “and make us slaves to their capitalist ideology.”

  SattAr felt
as if the two fed off of one another’s paranoia. Any sane person would realize that in the global economy the only way to truly rid the world of The Disease would be to treat everyone. He found the notion clearly nearsighted.

  “In fact,” Ari explained, “I would rather the cure never be found than the West have it in their hands.”

  “The Malik needs the cure!” Masika insisted.

  SattAr felt bombarded by the two and almost wished he were struck down by The Disease instead of remaining in this office any longer. He did not need to be reminded of his orders. Surprisingly, Alex Pella had proved to be a much more formidable foe than he expected. No civilian, or even trained military professional, he had ever encountered showed such cunning, intelligence, and overall ingenuity than this man. Despite his inability to capture him, he had an unspoken admiration for Alex.

  “If I were to have the cure,” Ari went on to say in a boisterous tone, “then there will be nothing the West can do to stop the spread of the UAA’s world influence. Not even The New Reality will be able to stand in my way!”

  “Then I come with good news,” SattAr said. “One of my special operatives on Patmos has recently reported unusual activity on the island.”

  “Patmos?” Ari questioned.

  “It’s an island off the western coast of Turkey, not far from Astipalea, where The Disease is thought to have begun.”

  Masika slowly walked over to the both of them. No longer content in the shadows, she felt her role was best served next to her husband. As she approached, SattAr paid her little attention and continued to speak with Ari eye to eye.

  “What did this operative see?” Ari then asked.

  They both used the word operative loosely. These men were actually looters who had been given military clearance to pillage abandoned Greek islands such as Patmos for their wealth. The operatives knew the risk in what they were doing but were paid extremely well by the UAA. In fact, Ari had thousands of them deployed throughout the Aegean looting the area and bringing back the wealth to their country.