by W B Dineen
Tony’s procured a private jet for our trip, in hopes we’ll be less conspicuous. We’re flying out of Albany and into the Santa Monica airport to avoid detection. We’re fed a fabulous lunch and I’m about to doze off when I’m compelled to ask another question. “Tony, who do you think is behind the weapon’s theft?”
He finishes a bite of his Sachertorte and wipes his mouth. “I think Fareed was approached by someone in our government who convinced him to hand over the technology for the protection of mankind. The problem with black-ops is there’s no transparency. People working in them don’t even know how they fit into the big picture. My guess is Fareed was chosen because he didn’t have a history in black-ops like your dad and Niko, so it was easier to convince him he was working for the wrong side.”
I ask, “Could that be true? I mean, do you know what NASA was going to do with the weapon?”
My dad answers, “We were told it would be launched into space and used on one of our bases on the moon, for planetary defense.”
“So, you created it with the thought it was going to protect the planet from extraterrestrial harm, not from earthly threats.”
My dad replies, “Yes. But, it’s like I said before, Kate, scientists want to create and discover. In this case, I wanted to believe the easy answer because I wanted to learn about this extraordinary technology.”
After wiping my face with a hot washcloth handed to me by the flight attendant, I have a thought. “Dad, could you and Niko make another weapon if you had access to the right building materials?”
He’s quiet for a moment before responding, “Sure. The problem is the cost would be prohibitive for all but the wealthiest of countries.”
This confirms the people who are after us are most likely from our own government. I knew this was a possibility, but it’s still hard to absorb. “What’s our first plan of attack when we get back to Pasadena?”
Tony replies, “I have some people to meet. Once I do that, we’ll have a better idea how to proceed.”
Everyone spreads out into different seats to allow some personal space, and we continue our trip in relative silence. Every time a question gets answered, four new ones arise. I can’t see an end to this thing to save my life.
I lift the arm between the chair I’m sitting on and the one Jake’s on and scoot over to him. I throw my legs over his lap. “What do you think about all this?”
He rubs my calves absently. “I’ve had longer to absorb it than you have. I’ve never met Tony before, but I knew of him and his part in everything. It’s a load to swallow when it becomes more than an abstract idea though.”
My parents, Tony, and Nikolay are sitting in seats in front of us and they all appear to be resting their eyes, so I lean over to Jake and give him a little love bite on the jaw. He looks down at me in surprise before capturing my lips in a thoroughly toe-curling kiss.
When he pulls his head up he asks, “What was that for?”
I respond, “That’s because I’m no longer convinced we have a long life ahead of us and I think maybe we should make the most of the time we have.”
Jake threads his fingers through mine and gives them a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t lose your courage now, Kate. I’d like nothing more than to live in the moment with you, but I haven’t given up on a long happy future.”
I don’t know how he can say that after all we’ve been through, but I sure as hell would like to hear it because there’s currently no sunshine shooting out of my behind.
CHAPTER 59
When I was a kid, movie theaters were filled with alien movies, and I saw a lot of them. Children of Men, War of the Worlds, the new generation of Star Trek movies, and Revenge of the Sith. They were everywhere, and people couldn’t get enough of them. I can’t help but wonder how the world would have reacted, had they known these films were based more in reality than fantasy.
I’ve never been interested in science fiction books, having read only one in my life, and that was only because I lost a bet with a friend in high school. Now I’m curious how much of those books are fiction and how much inconceivable fact. It’s a terrifying thought.
As our little plane shoots through the sky toward the inevitable, I try to imagine how different our world would be today if we’d known about the treaty President Eisenhower signed with beings from other worlds. What if our government had kept us apprised of alien contact, instead of burying the evidence so deep in black-ops, that only a handful of spooks knew the truth?
I have no real idea what’s happening, but the crumbs I’ve been fed are so horrifying I don’t know how much more I can handle. Then I realize what the repercussions would be if the world was faced with this information today. George Bush is right, people probably couldn’t handle the truth.
I think back to what Tony said yesterday about how our ignorance has formed a gap so great there may be no coming back from it. Every second, every minute, every year that has passed since that time, has created a chasm so deep and vast, these two worlds might as well be on different planets.
I get out of my chair and walk up the aisle to where Tony is working on his computer. I sit down next to him and ask, “What about the secret societies? Do they know about aliens and our government working with them?”
“Of course they do, Kate. But information is doled out according to who needs to know what. For instance, the Bilderberg Group and the Trilateral Commission have both been briefed on our continued work with otherworldlies, but not all members have the specifics. In secret societies especially, there’s a heightened fear of exposing too much information to the wrong people.”
“What about the Trēdecim? What do they know?”
Tony turns in his seat and looks directly into my eyes. “They know everything, Kate. The Trēdecim is made up of the top dogs in both Bilderberg and Trilateral. Like I’ve told you, they’re the highest power on our planet. They pick the world leaders; they create and stop the wars. They are as close to gods as we have.”
Even if I were to hear this information a million times, I’m not sure my brain could fully absorb it. This idea is so far away from what I’ve grown up believing, it leaves me feeling completely empty. “How could we have ever let this happen?”
Tony tilts his head. “It boils down to money. Those with money have the power. Those with power want more power and on it goes. Look, Kate, most people have pretty tame dreams. They want to make enough money to buy a house, a couple of cars, raise a family, go to Disneyland, and eat out a few times a week. People in general are simple creatures. The Trēdecim are not. They were born being able to do things most people work a lifetime for and can still never afford.”
“Is that what your childhood was like?” I stare at him like I’m looking through a microscope. Tony is sleek, sophisticated, and very good looking. He’s probably in his mid-fifties but could certainly pass for much younger.
“Yes, it was. I’ve grown up knowing I could have, do, or be anything I ever wanted, with little effort on my part. The world really is my oyster and always has been.”
I nervously yank on the ends of my red and purple hair. “What changed you? Why did you decide to fight for the good guys instead of staying in bed with the bad guys?”
Tony looks at his watch and then back to me. “Go get your mother, I’ll tell you both at the same time.”
CHAPTER 60
My mom turns her lounger completely around so she’s facing Tony. I know we’re about to hear what caused him to turn against his dad, and my imagination is running in overdrive.
Tony clears his throat and smiles, almost like it hurts to do so. “I was born in 1964 in Bern, Switzerland. My mother is Swiss and my father an American of French descent. I’ve lived most of my life traveling between countries. That’s common among the Trēdecim. Of the thirteen, only three are naturalized US citizens. People with this kind of money and power don’t identify with patriotism the way the worker bees do. We’re raised to see a bigger picture and ourselves co
ntrolling that bigger picture.”
I think of how I get chills every time I hear the national anthem. I’m proud of my patriotism and wonder what it’s like not to be. So, I interrupt, “Do you consider yourself an American?”
“I do. I spent about half of my childhood in the US and English is my first language. I love the Yankees and apple pie and all that, but the difference is, I’ve never been raised to believe my government is the benevolent parent and caretaker of the people. I grew up at my father’s knee watching as the game was played. I’ve always known it was a game and nothing else.”
What a depressing thought. I grew up loving my country and believing in it and the people who call it home. To me, the same people Tony refers to as worker bees are the backbone and beauty of our democracy. I want to know more about his family. “What was your childhood like? Did you play ball with your dad and go on picnics? Did you go to church? Did you root for a particular football team?”
“My upbringing was not common by most people’s standards. I never played ball with my father. He was always too busy to play with his children. The only picnics we went on were politically motivated. For instance, if the big boys in the democratic and republican parties invited us to an outing, you know, like the Kentucky Derby or the World Series, we went. We weren’t church goers, although my parents made an exception at the holidays. And while I didn’t have a favorite football team, I did go to games. But only big ten and professional games, and only if I was sitting on the fifty-yard line.”
He continues, “My mother was not a warm and fuzzy maternal figure who baked cookies and told us bedtime stories. As far as I can recall, she never bathed us or cooked our dinner. She never bought our clothes or took us to our lessons. We had nannies who did all that.”
My mom looks sick to her stomach at the thought of such neglect. “How many siblings do you have?”
“Two. My younger sister, Yvette, and my brother Charles.” Bethanie shoots him a prodding look, like that isn’t going to be enough information for her, so he adds, “Yvette was six years younger than me and Charles was just over one year older.”
“Why the past tense?” I demand. “What happened to them?”
“Charles committed suicide when we were in college.”
“Oh, my God, Tony, I’m so sorry! What happened?” I know this isn’t really my business, but it’s nice to take a break from thoughts of aliens and new world orders, even with a sad thought like losing a sibling to suicide.
He sighs deeply. “My father happened. Charlie wanted to study anthropology in school. He never had any interest in politics and the family business of munitions and money making. He went to Yale, as family tradition decreed, but in his sophomore year he wanted to take a semester off to study the indigenous people of Micronesia.”
In response to my look of confusion, he explains, “Micronesia is in the Western Pacific north of New Guinea. Anyway, my dad sat him down and spelled out, in no uncertain terms, that Charlie’s value to the family was to do as he was told and take his place in the larger scheme of things. He fought my dad, and in the end, I guess my brother figured he would win by taking himself out of the game entirely.”
My mouth hangs open in horror. “I’m so sorry, Tony. Is that what caused you to change your mind about your dad?”
“Not at all. In fact, at the time, I viewed Charlie’s suicide as a sign of weakness. If nothing else, it caused me to redouble my efforts to prove my worth to my father.”
My mom asks, “When did you change your mind and come around?”
Tony closes his eyes as though transported to another time and place. “Not for years and years after that, Bethanie. It wasn’t until my sister married and had her first child that my eyes started to open, but they did so slowly.”
“Yvette married someone my parents had been throwing in her path since junior high school. He was the son of one of my father’s business associates. He was ten years older than my sister, which makes it pretty medieval for them to be promoting this alliance when she was just twelve and he was twenty-two.”
“Yvette married Tom the summer after she graduated from college. It was a lavish affair, to say the least. Over a thousand friends, family, business, and political connections came to show their support and finesse a few deals that weekend.”
He continues, “I was invited to Tom’s bachelor party and watched as he fooled around with the strippers and even went off with a couple of them for an extended time. I thought nothing of it. My parents were not the best role models of a loving union. I grew up believing marriage was more about bringing families together and strengthening dynasties than about love and honor.”
After a moment of silence, he says, “Yvette gave birth to a child when she was twenty-four. The baby was born with defects and some apparent aspects of retardation. My sister was devastated when my parents tried to convince her to place her child in a home instead of raising him herself. She looked to Tom for support, but he sided with my parents, claiming he didn’t want people associating him with that monster.”
My mouth hangs open in revulsion. “Didn’t your parents have any love for their grandchild?”
Tony lowers his head in obvious sadness. “None. He was never going to grow up to be their idea of what he should and therefore, they were more than happy to send him away and pretend he didn’t exist.”
“And your sister? What did she do?”
“She was never the same. She became detached and reclusive. I didn’t see her at family functions very often and when I did, she was a shell of herself.” He breaks to take a sip of water. “She came to see me on her son’s sixteenth birthday. She showed me his picture and he looked a lot like I did at that age.”
“I remember Yvette telling me that while her son was locked away, so he didn’t shame his family, I was turning into my father. She said he was a lovely boy who deserved a place in the world and had a right to be acknowledged. I told my dad about her visit, because it got me to thinking that maybe my family had handled the situation poorly, and it wasn’t too late to do something about it.”
I’m on the edge of my seat. “What did your dad say?”
“He said he should have had the child eliminated right after birth.”
My mom declares, “He couldn’t have meant it!”
“Oh, he meant it, Bethanie. He spoke to my sister about her seeing her son and told her if she didn’t stop, he’d find a way to punish her. Even though she was forty by then, he still viewed himself as the ultimate authority in our family.”
“What did your sister do?”
“She ignored him, and continued to visit her child, until the day she showed up and found out he’d died from a sudden heart attack. As he’d been in excellent health, she knew our father was responsible.”
I don’t know what to say. I can’t imagine such evil. I finally manage to ask, “What happened then?”
“She took a bottle of pills, but not before calling me and leaving a message about what had happened. When I listened to it, I knew exactly what kind of monster my father was. That day I vowed to do everything in my power to not become him. Of course, as his only living child, he escalated his efforts to groom me for greatness, and I’ve allowed him to think I’m toeing the line. But every step I take is for the sole purpose of bringing him to his knees and making him understand he’s no better than any other person in this world. In fact, in my esteemed opinion, he’s one of the lowliest creatures alive, and believe me, I’ve known some pretty un-evolved beings.”
CHAPTER 61
As we land in Santa Monica, I can’t help but think how much tragedy has touched the lives of the people sitting on this plane. And all in the name of what? Power, greed, control? What does any of that matter if your world isn’t full of people who love you?
Tony has more money than almost anyone alive and yet he lives to make his father pay for the death of his siblings. I totally support this, by the way. I’m not suggesting he be a good son and h
elp his dad destroy the world. It’s beyond comprehension that people can have so much and not be humbled by it. My God, if I had a billion dollars I’d give half of it to charity and then live like a queen off the interest while trying to figure out what to do to help the rest of the world.
I’m not holding myself up as an example of selflessness and righteousness, here. I’m not Gandhi. I’d certainly have way more shoes than I could ever wear in a lifetime and I’d probably get a cleaning lady, but my point is you don’t have that much without owing a debt to society.
To learn our whole planet is at the mercy of thirteen egomaniacal billionaires and an uncertain number of aliens is at the top of my all-time worst news ever received list. In fact, finding this one doomsday weapon seems like a pretty minuscule dent in all the work that needs to be done. But I guess it’s a good place to start.
There are three vehicles waiting for us at the airport. My parents get into one of them, Nikolay and Tony take another, leaving me and Jake in the third. We’re meeting up at a house on Arden Road in Pasadena. Our lodgings have certainly moved up in the world.
I had a friend from high school who lived on Arden Road. When her family moved to Connecticut, they sold their house for over five million dollars, and that was back in the nineties. Jake asks me to drive as I’m familiar with the freeways and am a total badass in traffic. He didn’t add the last part, but I like compliments and I’m more than happy to create them for myself when warranted.
As we pass through the tunnels on the 110 Freeway heading into Pasadena, Jake turns off the radio. “What was it like growing up in all this sunshine?”
“Bright,” I joke. “How ’bout you? What was it like growing up with so much rain?”
He sucks in his cheeks, making himself look like a Zoolander wanna-be and mimics, “I’m very hydrated and as a result have the skin of a twenty-year-old.”