Alex took a deep breath and thought about the funeral in Vermont. Though Jonathan’s death had not been completely unexpected, he did feel a great sense of loss with his passing. Alex was also amazed at how much Jonathan accomplished while on their expedition while being so sick. His physical and mental stamina must have been staggering.
He recalled Jonathan’s quiet, unassuming demeanor. Because of the man’s modesty, he would have never surmised that he graduated from M.I.T with an electrical engineering degree and had been a successful entrepreneur before entering the priesthood. Jonathan had given up his fortune before being ordained and vowed to live a life of sacrifice and spiritual devotion. He preached in Vermont for over twenty years and spent most of his time tending to the sick and needy.
The diocese had to rent out a huge hall in St. Albans, Vermont to accommodate the over 3,000 people they expected to attend the funeral. He had touched so many in the local community that his death impacted its residents significantly.
“Does this mean I’ll have to stay here and clean up this mess while you’re away?” Samantha chimed in.
“I certainly didn’t make it,” Alex countered. “I see a broom over there that has your name on it. Why wait until I’m gone? You can get started now.”
“Let me tell you where I’m going to stick that broom!”
The two walked within the designated area sectioned-off by the police. Between having to spray the entire complex three different times with metaldehyde to kill off the remaining necroids and all the construction, Neurono-Tek was nowhere near back to normal yet. Fully-armed police and members of the bomb squad patrolled the area 24 hours a day. Fire engines were at every corner and the National Guard guarded the complex’s entire perimeter.
A sizable amount of the reconstruction had been accomplished over the last week; the foreman of the operation promised Alex that Neurono-Tek would be at 100% operating capacity within twenty days. That is, if nothing else occurred.
“All joking aside,” Alex said, “I have to admit that I’m very impressed about how you fended off the necroids and a full-scale military attack on Neurono-Tek all by yourself and helped find the cure for The Disease in the process.”
“Let’s just say I’ll be waiting for my Nobel Peace Prize in the mail any day now,” Samantha scoffed, trying her best to be modest. She knew what she accomplished at Neurono-Tek had been an enormous feat. Still, she could not fathom how she survived her entire ordeal without losing her sanity.
“No, I really mean it,” Alex reiterated. “You did a fantastic job.”
“I suppose after years of therapy I can look back on it and say the same,” she said. Despite her jovial manner, the incident had been extremely traumatic. Every night for the last week Samantha had awakened in a cold sweat. Hopefully time would heal these wounds.
“Since we’re being all touchy-feely here,” Samantha said, “I do have to congratulate you also on your success. Between fending off an elite force of UAA soldiers and also helping find the cure for The Disease, you also did a good job.” She smiled. “Not as good as me, but good enough.”
The two passed by a few more armed police who stood their post, watching for any suspicious activity. Not only were they making sure no further terrorist activity occurred, but they also had been assigned to keep all media off the premises. Since the announcement of the cure, Neurono-Tek had been inundated with calls and requests for interviews. Alex and Samantha’s faces were plastered everywhere, making them both instant celebrities. Not that either wanted the status, but after their discovery, fame was an inevitable consequence.
Samantha joked previously that she would rather be attacked by a bunch of necroids again than be swarmed by a pack of reporters. She said it would be safer.
“You know,” Samantha went on to say, “I still don’t understand how you found that genetic code within the Old Testament. The whole thing sounds a little far-fetched to me.”
“You can’t argue with the results,” Alex admitted. “Stranger things have occurred—like the other day when you told me you were left speechless. Now that’s completely unexplainable.”
“Laugh all you want,” she said. “If it weren’t for me, we’d be walking through a pile of rubble around here right now.”
“Hey,” Alex said, “don’t forget who had the only viable gene in their genetic code that could produce the cure for The Disease.”
Though Alex joked about the situation, she did acknowledge that he did posses the only remaining, viable gene that could cure The Disease. At one evolutionary point all humans must have possessed the same functional gene. Those who didn’t would have been killed off by the original retroviral infection long ago when The Disease first afflicted mankind.
Over the past week Samantha and Alex both had wondered how many other latent viruses lay dormant in the vast human genetic code. It was a theoretical question, but after the recent events, a pertinent one.
“Yes Alex,” Samantha added sarcastically, “you are the greatest person who ever lived. Without you we’d all be dead.”
“That’s all I wanted to hear,” Alex said with a smile.
“Aren’t you late for that meeting with your old friend Albert Rosenberg today?” Samantha asked.
“That’s where I’m heading right now.”
“Don’t forget to tell him what I said about women running the world,” she said. “Tell him things would be better that way.”
“I’ll make sure I keep that in mind,” Alex laughed. “Any other novel insights you want me to tell him while I’m there?”
“Well,” she said, actually pondering the facetious question, “since he now runs the world, could you put in a good word for Neurono-Tek?”
Samantha’s request had been a sincere one. The deadline had passed, and because no one was able to repay their enormous debt back to The New Reality, Albert Rosenberg and his company assumed control of their respective countries. No bullets were fired, and it occurred without one casualty. What many great leaders and generals had attempted to accomplish through might, Albert obtained through brains.
As he was now in control of essentially every country in the world, Albert created a centralized New World Order government with himself in control at its helm.
“I think I’ll have a few more things to ask him than that,” Alex said, surmising Albert’s reason for summoning him.
Chapter 46
“It’s always a pleasure to see you Alex,” Albert Rosenberg whispered.
He could barely complete the sentence without gasping for air. Speaking had become an exhausting task.
Albert looked much sicker than he expected. Alex surmised he had only days, if not hours, to live. As Alex looked upon the man lying in his bed, he could not help but remember all that Albert had accomplished throughout his life. Innately brilliant, well spoken, and with a keen eye for business, he had not only taken over the largest company ever created, The New Reality, but also had created a New World Order government. No other person could come close to the man in intellectual stature or cunning.
“It certainly has been too long,” Alex responded.
“How’s that Stratoskimmer doing?” Albert asked.
“Other than a few bugs, it’s flying real smooth.”
Different men and woman stood around Albert. All wearing executive suits, they obviously were there for business reasons and not to console him during his finals hours of life. Instead, it appeared as if a board meeting had been conducted prior to Alex entering the room.
Alex recognized most of the people around the bed. They were all-too-familiar faces as each had been a high-ranking governmental official in their perspective country around the world. France, Greece, and Iceland’s finance ministers were but a few who instantly stood out among the crowd.
Most would assume such disgraced governmental officials would have no place in The New World Order that Albert had created. They were the cause of their country’s economic collapse and had no business
remaining in office. If they could not execute proper fiscal responsibility in their own country, how could they do it globally?
However, the whole thing made sense. Albert was even more brilliant than Alex had ever imagined. The endless governmental spending, the unbounded borrowing, and the massive accrual of debt were all carefully planned by Albert Rosenberg.
These men and woman standing around him had Albert’s and the New Reality’s best interest in mind the whole time, not their respective countries. They must have been surreptitiously working for him like some sort of double agents and knowingly led their countries into an economic path of self-destruction. By increasing their dependence on foreign loans from Albert, they set into motion a financial situation that was destined for utter bankruptcy.
Ingenious!
And the entire plan had been carried out in front of the world. Everyone clearly saw the debt and wayward spending of their countries mounting, but nothing was done about it.
Alex could not hold Albert totally accountable for what he had done because few had the insight or initiative to actually try to stop it. The cries of fiscal responsibility were not heard or suppressed as the momentum of larger government and increased spending gained speed.
“I’d like to personally thank you for cleaning up my mess,” Albert said with a little more gusto.
Alex raised an eyebrow. “I think that was more than a little mess.”
Albert knew playing coy with a man of such intellectual prowess would be counterproductive. Alex most likely already discovered or figured out everything that he had done and probably knew more about it than his closest advisors. He admired Alex and saw much of himself in this young man.
Albert smiled. “You know what my only wish is?” he said, not expecting an answer, “I wish that we had a chance to run this New World Order together.” He gasped for air before he could squeeze out another thought. “It would have been wonderful.”
Alex did not want to contradict Albert, especially now in the man’s final hours, but he would never want to work with him under any circumstances. The man was ruthless. His rise to power had been one filled with deceit, betrayal, and death. The ends did not justify the means. And even though Albert procured everything he ever wanted in this world, Alex did not respect the methods he went about doing it.
Alex kept quiet and only acknowledged his comment with a smile.
Albert sat up slightly in the bed. His skeletal frame became more apparent as the sheets rolled down below his chest. The effort took all of his energy, which forced him to gasp for air as a result. A nurse quickly came to his side and placed a small pellet underneath his tongue. The labored breathing slowly subsided.
“I am impressed with how you found a cure for The Disease and escaped from the UAA,” Albert finally said. “They were certainly outstanding feats.”
“But why Ari Lesmana and the UAA?” Alex asked. “What purpose was there in dealing with them?” He had already made the connection but wanted to hear it directly from Albert to confirm his lingering suspicions.
Albert mustered a smile. He recognized Alex already knew the answer but humored him anyway. “If you must know…” He coughed a few more times and spit up a bit of phlegm into an awaiting napkin held by one of his nurses.
“Ari was nothing more than a puppet,” he went on to say. “Someone that I could control and manipulate at my slightest whim. The man served his purpose but in the end was expendable.”
The men and woman around Albert stood like statues, listening to the conversation as if they were not there. Whether they were wrapped so tightly around Albert’s finger that they were not allowed to speak or were just biding their time until the old man croaked, Alex could not tell. He would, however, ascertain their motives before he left.
A nurse put another pill under Albert’s tongue. He then took a large breath and said, “Plus, I could not risk compromising the delicate situation in the Middle East. You see,” he said after taking another large breath, “the other reason why I funded Ari Lesmana’s rise to power was to solidify the UAA’s control over a politically unstable area. His personality and rhetoric made them forget their differences and see themselves as one. Now with a new sense of national pride, the citizens of the UAA will be easy to rule with my puppet government in place.”
“But Ari brought the UAA to the brink of total economic collapse,” Alex interrupted.
“I was prepared for such an event,” Albert responded, “and in fact expected it to occur. History has taught us that his fascist policies were doomed to failure since their inception. It was simply a matter of time before the collapse occurred. All I had to do was stop it before the process could no longer be reversed.”
Albert’s last words weakened him to the point of exhaustion. He closed his eyes for a few moments and began to drift into sleep. One of his advisors came to his side and knelt down next to him. Alex recognized the man as a senior member of the British House of Lords. His name was Stanley Wright, and he had made much press as of late with his public support of the New World Order.
“Let us cut to the chase,” he said with a distinguished English accent. “We have invited you here in order to present you with a most auspicious opportunity. You see, with the imminent passing of our dear Albert Rosenberg, we have no one to lead The New World Order.”
“Why not you, Mr. Wright?” Alex asked, wanting to clearly show that he recognized the man’s identity.”
“Oh no, don’t be silly. We here are meant only to be seen and not heard.”
I’d like to not see or hear any of you, Alex thought.
“We have been working with Mr. Rosenberg to create this fabulous New World Order, not to run it. Don’t you see what we have accomplished?”
“Yeah, I see,” Alex scoffed. “You created disease, economic misfortune, and an overall moral decay of the entire planet.”
“You miss the big picture,” the Englishman insisted. “We have created for the first time ever a universal bank with a unified society under the economic rule of The New World Order. Isn’t it magnificent!”
Before Alex could answer, Mr. Wright added, “And the best part about it is that we want you to run for its presidency.”
“Run?” Alex gasped. “What do you mean run?”
“The people will decide who they want to lead them,” Albert said, finally awakening from his short slumber. He wished to continue but words could no longer emerge from his mouth. He looked at Stanley Wright to continue.
“You see,” Stanley said, “in order for The New Order to be legitimized internationally its president must be elected through a proper vote.”
“You take over the world and now you want to bring its fate to a vote,” Alex scoffed, suspicious of their true intentions.
“The world must believe that they are in control of their fate, not us,” Albert said with a large breath. “Even if it is not true.”
Stanley placed his hand on Albert’s shoulder and added, “Mr. Rosenberg is correct.”
Alex understood the method to their madness but still disagreed with their decision. “What if the world chooses wrong?” Alex commented, fully knowing their response.
“You don’t think that we would leave our future up to mere chance,” Stanley insisted. “Oh, no, my boy. We have handpicked candidates and no matter who comes out on top, The New Reality wins.”
A woman on the other side of Albert added, “Your face has been all over the news. People know—and more importantly respect—you.”
“You would win,” Albert struggled to say. “This all could be yours.”
Ruler of the world did have a nice ring to it but Alex had no interest in politics—especially those of Albert Rosenberg and The New Reality.
“If I wanted to be publicly humiliated,” Alex said with a grin, “I’d go back to high school. I’m a scientist, not a politician. Neurono-Tek and the scientific community need me.”
“The world needs you,” Stanley insisted.
Alex shook his head. “I’ll pass.” He pointed to the men and woman around Albert. “If you all want somebody who will run The New World Order with professionalism, common sense policies, and an uncanny knack for getting things done correctly, why don’t you go solicit my favorite governor? He’ll be the perfect candidate.”
“But we want you,” Stanley reiterated before Alex explained any further.
Alex looked over at Albert. The old man rested on a few propped-up pillows, laboring with each breath. Despite his terminal illness, he still kept all of his mental faculties.
Albert had invited Alex there for a reason, and it was not to offer him an opportunity to run for the president of The New World Order. He knew Alex would never accept such a proposition, despite his feigned insistence. His motives were much more subtle and lost among his cronies standing around him. He had them all assembled not to convince Alex to run for office but to show him the faces behind The New World Order. He wanted Alex to know who the true people were pulling the strings behind the economic institution that he created.
Alex understood Albert’s true reason for bringing him to his mansion during his final hours. He needed someone outside the organization to know its inner circle just in case there were any future problems, catastrophic events, or possible coups. Albert’s death would obviously bring about some instability and he knew only Alex Pella had the intellectual capacity to quell any future problems that could ensue within his organization.
“I’ll pass,” Alex finally said. “If any of you need me, I’ll be back at Neurono-Tek. Where I belong.”
“Please reconsider,” Stanley requested.
Alex gave Albert a quick smile. “Rest in peace, old man. You have nothing to worry about.”
Albert nodded and then closed his eyes, most likely for the final time.
About the Author
Stephen Martino holds an M.D. from the University of Pennsylvania and is a neurologist in New Jersey. When he is not working, he can be found with his five children doing homework or cheering them on at a soccer field, basketball court, or dance recital. Martino is a member of the Knights of Columbus, a Cub Scout den leader and is an active public speaker, helping to educate the local community and healthcare professionals on the signs, symptoms and treatment of stroke. The New Reality is his first novel. Visit his website at martinoauthor.com.
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