Sentinels of the Cosmos Trilogy

by John Anderson

  “Good idea, somewhere - there it is, that’s hysterical we have our own set of instructions,” Ally smiled. “I want a copy,” Chase smiles and leans back in his seat searching through his brain for his own personal instruction manual.

  "Relax, I'll send you a copy," smiles Ally.

  Chapter 20 Charles Dean was sitting in his office in the Congressional Office Building in Washington, DC. Charles was surprisingly neat. His large black walnut desk was completely bare of paper. There was a gold stamped leather desk set an old mahogany Philco radio and nothing else, not even a photo. The room had walnut veneer walls, a large red and black Afghan rug on the floor and a painting of Washington crossing the Delaware on the far wall.

  Sam Nichols burst into Charles’s office saying, "We have to talk!"

  The small chubby receptionist came in behind Sam, saying, "I tried to stop him Mr. Speaker..."

  "It's alright, come in Sam," Charles gets up to greet Sam and says, mildly, Welcome.

  "What kind of crap are you pulling now," Sam yelled. "Sam, calm down, speak English rather than emotional garbage and realize I don’t have the vaguest idea what you’re talking about," Charles replied as he returned to his chair.

  "Then let's take a walk," Sam insisted, exasperated. "A walk, Sam, really?" Charles did not like walks. He was fat and walking increased his already labored breathing and the ache in his knees. Sam saw the situation immediately and went over and leaned over the desk almost threateningly. Charles jumped back as if in fear that Sam might physically hurt him. Sam smiled in amusement, turned on the radio to a news station to cover the noise of their conversation and began speaking: "Charles what are you trying to pull? I'm to develop Bumba to live in the glue on an envelope?

  "Yes Sam, that's what I want you to do."

  "What for?” he demanded.

  "You were at the last meeting. You know what we need to do. Sam we have to take charge of our planet. The idea of killing millions of people is horrible, even somewhat unthinkable, but it has to be explored. There are just too many of us, and someone has to do something,” Charles spoke in a monotone.

  “You’re a scary man Charles, maybe setting limits on population increase would make more sense, or even forced sterilization but just killing people, Charles what are we doing, what happened to you?”

  Charles knew Sam and could see that he was a follower and not a leader. He says, “I’m doing what I’ve been told to do, and you will also, as you always have. Get it together Colonel Nichols. There isn't any more time. We’re out of time! We aren't ready to leave this planet. Mars is not ready; we have to do this now! It’s a lot less destructive than some other solutions I heard discussed like starting a nuclear war, which may be a more effective alternative."

  “Charles, you’re talking about wholesale mass murder,” Sam protested.

  “I know it’s terrible” Charles sits quietly and Sam sits back in his seat having exhausted himself. He waits for a moment for Sam to get his breath and then responds “Have you finished venting or do you need another moment? Now! About the Bumba virus, will it live on an envelope?”

  "Why did Ivan ask me, and not you?" Sam inquired. “Because, I was busy, Sam, I am very busy and have to delegate; you should be very busy too, doing what we’ve been asked to do!” replies Charles softly. Sam studied Charles for a minute. He had great control of his emotions and facial expressions but he knew one wrong movement, one wrong twitch and he would be dead along with many others. Sam could palpably feel Charles’s lust for power, and the extent of his malevolence and insanity.

  "Bumba could live through a blow torch," Sam says. "Good, see how easy that was, I'm happy that you came here, and we’ve had this little chat" Charles says and continues, “By the way where is Beneizen?” “I have no idea,” Sam replies.

  “Oh I think you do, you were seen taking him to the airport, and we tracked him to Los Angles and the trail went cold after that. I think you should tell me where he’s gone and what he’s up to,” Charles continues.

  “I don’t know where he went, he didn’t tell me. He felt his life was in danger,” Sam answers.

  “I believe you Sam, and that’s important, trust is always important, I can’t imagine why Beneizen would feel threatened, you couldn’t kill him anyway, he’s not of this world. Do you know how to kill that creepy alien? I bet you do. He built EOJ; it was his creation, along with my wife Doris and you of course. Why, what was his real agenda? Are there others like him out there waiting to kill all of us; are the rest of us, we humans just galactic interlopers? Did he say if he was coming back?”

  “I don’t know Charles. I believe he felt threatened, all I know is what he said,” answered Sam.

  “I believe you, I really do, but I feel that there is something you’re not telling me, but I’m patient - I’ll wait until you want to, and you will want to. I’m now changing the subject - "Sam, Chase is still alive; one of Kathryn’s Guards is bringing him in. When we find out what happened and dispose of him, we’ll probably also need to get rid of the Guard that’s bringing him in but it seems that Chase lived through the Bumba injection we gave him some time ago. The question is how?" Charles says sarcastically. “I don’t know, maybe he’s genetically superior,” Sam replies.

  “Do you think we might be able to use his blood as a serum?” Charles asked.

  “Maybe, why do you ask?” said Sam.

  “Because after we kill him I plan on draining him of every last ounce of blood and using it to find a serum. You know we need a cure for this Bumba thing in case it mutates and gets out of control, we always have to prepare for the downside,” Charles says. Sam lies, saying, “Bumba can’t mutate, and it selfdestructs in the body.”

  Charles and Sam have a pregnant pause as each study’s the other.

  Sam turns to leave.

  "One thing…" Charles asks.

  "What?" snapped Sam.

  "Don't ever come here again without being invited, you understand! Whenever I see you I see Doris. I see the three of us bringing balance to the world, making a difference."

  "I thought we were friends?" Sam replied.

  “Friends, friends are a curse Sam; they always desert you, do you want to be thought of as a curse?” replies Charles sadly.

  “No, of course not” Sam answered, stunned by what he had heard. Sam left knowing his time was short. It seemed as though Ivan was to be his replacement, but why? He had served EOJ faithfully for 20 years. Something had changed and Charles was in the final stages of obliterating his own conscience... Sam needed to call New York, so he dialed the number. Out of nowhere Ivan appears and says, "Who are you calling Sam?" as he placed a gun to Sam’s head. "I was calling for messages," Sam lied.

  "Sam; I want to kill you, but not with a gun to your head. I want you to die like warrior, my breaking your neck with bare hands. I can hear it crack now Sam, can you? Now - you’re always going to be watched." Sam was not frightened and he saw a tiny flash of fear appear in Ivan’s eyes as he realized it, then said, “I don’t think you were ever in a real battle Ivan. I think you’re all talk, I think you missed your chance for glory.”

  Ivan reaches to grab Sam’s throat but Sam grabs his arm and they lock in a battle of strength for just a moment. Ivan stops and smiles, “Sam, I want you to know you’re going to die, and I’m going to kill you.” Ivan disappears as quickly as he had come.

  Sam was shaken and knew he didn't have much time, maybe only a few minutes. He exits EOJ, crosses the street to a tobacco store, buys a magazine of crossword puzzles and a cup of coffee and goes back across the street to sit on a bench seemingly doing the puzzles. He wrote furiously in the magazine and after a time got up from his bench, went back across the street to the newsstand and asked the blind man behind the counter if he would like his crossword puzzle magazine back. The blind man accepted it and put it back in the magazine rack. Sam left and walked for a long time, thought about Chase and Ally and wondered how he could help them.

  C
hapter 21 Ally and Chase were southbound on the Jersey Turnpike, racing towards DC. He was aware of his thoughts and also aware of another part of himself that he was having trouble accessing. He concluded that this must have been his processor. He felt that his brain was trying to get inside something like a closed room that could only be viewed through a keyhole. But he was determined to open this ‘window’ into himself; he was not going to allow himself to be a ‘thing,’ a machine with no soul. He was alive! He could sense a life force pulsing though his whole body. He wondered what was moving though his body, this complex cocktail of emotions and sensations. He was curious about what could bring a new order to not only the world but to himself. He was beginning to make out an inner landscape and sense that someone was trying to talk to him. A face appeared and spoke, saying, “My name is Sam Nichols, you and I worked together for many years. You cannot possibly remember me even though I built you and was partially responsible for your design. I haven’t much time. You and Ally are both in great danger. You must not come to EOJ headquarters. They will kill you both given the chance. You must go to Edwards Smoke Shop in Leesburg across the street from the Armory and ask the blind man for the crossword puzzles.” Suddenly the vision disappeared. He looked at Ally as she was driving and didn’t know how to tell her that they were both in trouble. He didn’t know if she was having the same experience as he was. It was difficult to stay in a state of ‘unknowing,’ very difficult. “Ally, is it possible for you to resist your directives?” he asked. “I don’t know; why would I want to resist them?” she inquired.

  “What if your very existence depended on it?” replied Chase

  “I don’t know what you mean?” she said.

  “What if I told you, I know that someone is going to try and kill both of us?” he said.

  “How do you know what to believe? People talk, but they’ll say anything to get their way,” Ally snapped. “You’re right, but would you agree that we need to be very careful?” he cautioned.

  “I’m always very careful,” she said defensively. “Could you hear the message I just received a moment ago?” Chase inquired.

  “No, I am programmed to be able to talk to you and hear your thoughts, but not your directives.”

  *****

  Ivan walked into Edwards Smoke Shop and looked around. The shop was tiny. There were racks of magazines all the way up to the ceiling. On the floor were piles of newspapers. There was a small cooler on a large chain that was pushed out into the street every morning. A dirty, stained pot of stale coffee sat on the single burner of the coffee maker. Behind a glass case filled with candy sat a small blind man, old with dark sunglasses, a pot belly and small black cane with a white tip. Behind him were stacks of cigarettes from all over the world, and a small humidor filled with cigars. Ivan looked through some of the magazines and then approached the blind man. “Do you have Russian cigarettes?” Ivan asked. “Are you from Russia?” The blind man asked. “Yes”

  “What part?”

  “Kiev.”

  “What part of Kiev?”

  “You are very nosey blind man,” Ivan was irritated. “I’m just a curious old blind man, I have nothing else to do, and I can find out all about people that way, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” the blind man sensed Ivan’s malevolence.

  “Did the man, who was just in here, give you something?”

  “What man?”

  He pushed his face very close to the blind man saying, “Do you sense my breath old man? I’ll take a pack of Belomorkanal cigarettes.”

  “Sure, your breath is very bad, would you like some breath strips?” said the blind man as he handed the pack to Ivan.

  Ivan opened the pack and placed a cigarette in his mouth.

  “No, do you have a match?” Ivan inquired.

  “Yes, of course,” he hands him a book of matches. Ivan lights the cigarette, takes a deep drag and says, “I hate Russian cigarettes, they remind me of when I was king among kings, remind me when I would torture sometime 20 people in day. Lots of work torture people. You know it job. We took breaks, naps and then even meal breaks from difficult job of torturing. Maybe these cigarettes really make me negative, and only way I feel better is inflicting pain on people like you, eh, what do you think?”

  “Maybe you should try another brand, most Russians now buy Winston,” the blind man said.

  “Comedian? Now, answer me you pig, the man who just came in here gave you something, what was it?” “Nothing, he gave me nothing.”

  “Wrong answer,” Ivan takes the lit cigarette grabs the blind man by the back of his long hair and burns his cheek. The blind man screams.

  “We can go on a long time with this, I have all day, now what did he give you?”

  “A magazine,” The blind man yelped in pain. “Now were getting somewhere, a magazine, can I have it please.”

  The blind man started to cry, “He put it back in the rack.

  Ivan looked at the walls covered with magazines. There must have been over three thousand magazines on the walls. Ivan’s patience is gone, he grabs the blind man “Where is it?”

  “I don’t know, I’m blind, I swear to God I don’t have any idea where he put it, or even what kind of magazine it was.”

  “How did you know he put it back?” Ivan pulls him closer.

  “I heard him, I have exceptional hearing?” the blind man pleads.

  “Damn!” Ivan let go of the blind man.

  Two customers come into the store and begin to rummage through the magazines. Ivan looks at them wondering if they’ve come for the magazine.

  “Damn,” he says to himself and walks out of the store furious. He looks back and see’s the blind man talking to the two customers who just came in. He’s telling them what happened to him. The two customers look up and see Ivan walking down the block quickly.

  *****

  Juan is lying in his hospital bed in Morristown, New Jersey. The bandages have been removed and he is sitting up. His wife is sitting on the bed next to him and feeding Juan some of her homemade cooking. The phone rings.

  “Would you get that for me?” Juan says affectionately.

  “Keep it short,” she says, picking up the phone and placing it at Juan’s ear.

  “Juan, its Sam, how are you?”

  “A lot better, what the hell did you give me in that shot?”

  I gave you “Nano-bots; tiny machines that repair cell damage and work as a team to stimulate the production of new cells. You should be completely healed in a few days“

  “Thanks, what’s going on?” Juan inquires.

  “Chase is on the way to EOJ with Ally and I must stop him. They’ll kill him, and he’s our only hope,” Sam says.

  “Why is he our only hope?”

  “Chase has found a way to resist EOJ directives,” Sam answers.

  “Unbelievable!” Juan says shocked.

  I believe Charles has stepped up the production of new Guards and plans on using them to infiltrate and take over the armed forces.

  “He already controls the President, why does he need the military?” Juan asks.

  “I’m not sure, but it’s a good question. If I’m alive, contact me, if I’m dead, you and your family get out of Dodge,” Sam says and hangs up.

  “You need to rest,” Esperanza says, “just lie down. Who was that?”

  "It was Sam. I want you and the kids ready on a moment’s notice - ready to leave the country. Have our passports and money ready and the medicines for our daughter," Juan says.

  "Why?" Esperanza asks.

  "Just do it," Juan sputters.

  "OK, but lay down and rest, you were just shot," Esperanza says.

  “In a minute,” Juan makes a call and says into the phone, "We have a problem."

  Chapter 22 Charles walked into the Oval office to meet President William T. Grant who stands up to greet him. President Grant is a descendant of President Ulysses S. Grant of Civil War fame. He was of slight build with slouched shoulder
s. His winning smile and willingness to compromise at any price made him a natural for the world of politics.

  “Good morning Mr. Speaker, I’m glad you could come on such short notice,” the President opened. “It’s my pleasure to do so, sir, how can I be of service,” Charles replied.

  “That’s what I like, a man who gets right to the point, no extra words for you, just right down to it.” The President sits down and falls back in his chair. Charles sits in a chair in front of the president and quietly waits looking at his nails.

  “You’re a difficult one to read, but I’ll get right to the point, I need your support on this health bill,” the President says.

  “You have it,” Charles answers.

  There is an uncomfortable pause and Charles goes back to admiring his nails.

  “Well that was easy;” the President responds “Thank you, well, thanks! Um…”

  “I have a request for you Mr. President,” Charles asks” You’re aware of the new directives of EOJ?” “Yes, of course, I run EOJ,” the President responds. "Yes you do," says Charles "And since you run it I need to have you sign this document so I can do my job."

  Charles takes out a document of a few pages out of his jacket pocket, and hands it over to the President. The President looks at it and places it on the desk in front him.

  “I’ll take a look at it sometime today and get back to you,” the President says.

  “I need it signed now; it’s a new directive. Even Doris liked the idea,” Charles says.

  The President looks surprised, “I can’t sign something I’ve not even read, I’ll look at today and I’ll get back to you tomorrow, be respectful Charles.”

  “I need for you to sign it today; I need for you to sign it now. It’s very important,” Charles insists.

  “It’s very important? Then I guess I should sign it, if it’s that important. Can you tell me what it’s about?” the President asks.

  “Of course, you’re signing a presidential directive to help reduce the world population by fifty percent over the next fifty years, and you have given me the full authority to carry it out,” Charles is very clear in telling the President what he plans to do.