Midnight Liberty League - Part I

by Brock Law

was prudent that they be protected and hidden. Many centuries ago, there came a rising of influence amongst the professional classes. They were spurred on by a growing belief that power could be attained outside the established feudal systems. As their wealth grew through trade and craftsmanship, so too did their recognition of the sweeping abuses of tyranny throughout the world. They became highly critical of nobility and the clergy. One such guild, which was particularly spiritual, amassed such prestige and honor that it attracted both commoner and nobleman alike. They were the engineers who built up the towers of the world closer to the heavens then ever thought possible. In fact, they built the little tunnel under my house too. Their network, resources, and fellowship became so vast that their leaders were chosen to receive a special gift. It was a treasure that had been hidden by a dwindling group of elders for many generations. It was given refuge behind a wall of secrecy, a strict policy of good deeds, and the pursuit of enlightenment. They are the Freemasons, and we are members of a small counsel of them.”

  “This is too much,” Will said weakly. “You must have me mistaken for Nicolas Cage.”

  “That would certainly be helpful,” Franklin said with a grin. “Given the things you have seen, I want you to accept that unnatural events have occurred. You must seriously consider both the weight and sincerity of what we’re going to tell you. I need your help to rescue my daughter.”

  “I want to help you do that at least,” Will admitted, “but I need to call the police so that I don’t have any more weirdoes breaking into my house, or yours for that matter.”

  “And how would you explain the disintegration of the man you killed?”

  “Just as it is,” Will responded quickly, “and tell them to put it with the X-files.”

  “And how would you explain your encounter with me?” Franklin followed.

  “I guess I’d have to withhold a little,” Will conceded.

  “What will you do when the rest of those men come back?” Franklin continued. “Like you said they want something specific from you. They seemed too determined to just give up after one fatal encounter. What do you do to combat a criminal network that has plenty of time and resources to spend solely on you?”

  “How do you know it’s that involved?” Will implored.

  “There’s no other way they could have come this far,” Greene interrupted. “It sounds like they ensnared you two very efficiently. They will be back, and short of hiring a body guard, you need to be proactive to prevent further assaults on your family.”

  “Starting a war with some European mafia would be much worse,” Will reasoned.

  “Will,” Wayne said, “Ben believes that something much more significant has happened. This event is strange, even for us. Nothing quite like it has happened in my lifetime, which is really saying something. You don’t know it yet, but things have already been set in motion. We cannot tell anyone what has happened, because of what we are, and how we are afraid these men may be involved. If someone has found us looking for this artifact, there will be others. We need to root them out and destroy what clues they have to its existence.”

  “Which is?” Will pressed.

  “Will, are you a religious person?” Greene pressed.

  Will calculated for a moment and decided to answer honestly. “I’m not sure.”

  “Good,” Franklin encouraged. “I think a healthy amount of skepticism will help you better judge these events. I’ve no doubt that you will find some illumination along the way. So may I presume you haven’t made up your mind about eternal life, or afterlife, or whatever you’d like to call it?”

  “I guess not,” Will said.

  “Then you can be open to some varying explanations,” Franklin replied. “I can’t speak to afterlife, but eternal life is something we know very well. We are truthfully who we claim to be.”

  “And you’re telling me that’s because you, what, found the Holy Grail or something?” Will scoffed.

  “Not ‘or something,’” Greene responded in a hushed tone.

  Franklin mumbled to obscure his words, “We did indeed.”

  Again Will waited for a punchline. By now though, he had begun to expect that one wasn’t coming. He fell back in his chair and stared up at the ceiling for a second. A glaze washed over his face. Wayne reached down for his coffee.

  “Take a moment,” Wayne said with a slight grin.

  Will didn’t react. Unconsciously, his hands gripped the arm rests, fingers digging into the leather. He looked back out the window, mystified, then back at the three men. Will covered his mouth with his hand, using his elbow to prop up his head, which had become suddenly heavy with contemplation. Wayne watched bemusedly as Will’s eyes betrayed his panic. Processing, hypothesis, variability, disillusion, confusion, literalization, understanding, acknowledgment, acceptance, impact, and transformation. All these were comical to Wayne who didn’t have to experience them. Will’s twitching brows, wrinkling nose, flickering eyelids and straining neck changed in minute degrees as each one of his billion firing synapses blew a fuse. Will shut down for a second, then flipped the breaker.

  “Okay,” Will said.

  “That’s it?” Greene enquired astounded.

  “Ok, I’m leaving,” Will clarified.

  “No you don’t,” Wayne said forcefully. “Hold on a moment.”

  Franklin stepped in, putting a hand on Will’s arm to offer some comfort. “Legend has popularized the object in a way that has obscured the reality behind the people and events that brought about its creation. Consider those times as not so gilded as religious texts often make them out to be. What was changing views on life and death took hold over many generations and tended not to be sweepingly obvious at the time they occurred. People kept many relics as remembrances, mementos of something that was important to them. These were generally meaningless souvenirs. Some had intrinsic monetary value and proliferated publically; however, others were influenced so strongly by intangible worth that they couldn’t simply be put up on the mantle for display. These are the things that disappeared, intentionally and for good reason. The mythology crept out, naturally, but fortuitously in a way that made them out to be metaphors for living well. It’s no great conspiracy, just what happened rationally as people realized they had something really special that otherwise would have disrupted the natural course of nations. You can imagine what cataclysmic wars might have occurred had the Ark, housing the actual handprint of God, still been hanging around. It would have altered history so profoundly that I don’t believe there is any way we could have been able to create a society in the manner that we have. Those things are out there though, and luckily they found good homes.”

  Placing himself in the shoes of someone in that implausible situation, Will calmed enough to listen with at least a curiosity to what Franklin was telling him. The three men eased a bit, comforted that Will didn’t look like he was on the brink of a complete breakdown.

  “History tells us of a chalice, but legend tells of a Grail,” Franklin continued. “The chalice, described through various contemporary documents, that Christ used at the Last Supper is very likely the one on display in the Cathedral of Valencia. St. Lawrence managed to hustle it out of Rome when the empire was expelling Christians. Previously, that ceremonial vessel of agate never left the side of the Popes, because it belonged to the very first one. It was something with special meaning for Peter, so he clung to it for use in religious practice. It was just something that helped him remember all the things his friend had told him. It’s one of the elements that helps conceal the alternate path of the other, more supernatural object. I doubt even Peter knew of its existence. Otherwise it surely would have ended up captive with conflicting relevancy to the doctrine of the Church.”

  “And that is what we’re talking about,” Will recapped.

  Franklin nodded. “Yes, the Grail. It is the vessel that Joseph of Arimathea used to catch the blood of Christ on Calvary. It is an object that holds the divine essence o
f a being coming from some heightened level of existence, one which perhaps no one truly understood. Described in uncannonized scraps of parchment and oral traditions that meagerly survived the ages, it is the myth that found its way to us. The vessel itself has no historic importance, but the physical blood it stores certainly does.”

  Will strained to understand. “So what is it exactly?”

  “It is a simple ceramic bottle,” Franklin said, “tightly corked with a finite volume of liquid remaining.”

  “Gruesome, and how did it get to you?”

  “After this nation was created for the people, free of the autocratic rule of Europe, it was deemed the safest place to hide the Grail from those who would misuse its abilities. The delicacy of the object necessitated an immortal guard throughout time. Since our country was among the first republics to form successfully in thousands of years, removed from the shackles of any one religious body and any one ruling family, and because many of its founders were Masons, it was delivered to us. The case was made at the highest level by our dear friend, the Marquis de Lafayette, who was a high-ranking Mason in France. It is because of his status with America and the common man in the French Masons that he survived the French Revolution. It was agreed that our work must continue, and that we were forming under principles unique in that era. We