CHAPTER SEVEN
A GOOD STORY
“The world breaks everyone…
But those that will not break it kills”
Ernest Hemingway
1
The world turned right along with the worm, and now everything seemed a little upside-down, perilously dangling on a hook, waiting for another big fish to swim on by and take the sumptuous bait that would only end up swallowing the hungry swimmer whole. Much had changed in New America in a short passage of time. There was an upheaval in the power structure after a public display of Atera’s deteriorating mental condition gave Ricardo the opportunity to usurp power in form of a legal, modern day coup. Made possible by enacting a clause in the New Constitution, stating the Chief Magistrate of the Land would assume the power of the Guardian Administrator during times of hostile aggression threatening the security of the country from abroad or within, much in the same way the Speaker of the House would if both the President and Vice President were incapacitated and unable to perform the duties of their office.
Before losing control of her faculties, Atera made two executive decisions Ricardo was either reluctant to overrule or felt he could turn to his advantage. The first came after every medical expert Dr. Penelope called in failed to revive the GAC from his waking sleep, spurring Atera to have her subconsciously locked husband moved back to the mansion, where she would be better equipped to work on an antidote. The second was granting Jacob and Michael the necessary resources to setup an expedition to Old California.
In an effort to alleviate concerns over a panic-stricken public turning into an ungovernable society after broadcasting the special report on the medical condition of the Guardian Administrator, Jacob told Atera he could win back the people with a message of hope.
“Fear and doubt can do more harm to the public peace than outright insurrection. The shocking news about the GAC is going to cause great concern among the people, especially when we do not know what is generating his unknown affliction. We need to give the good citizens of New America something to hold onto. If I can offer them some good news to soften the unsettling blow of the bad, I can buy more time for you and Dr. Penelope to find a cure.”
Atera began to regret her desperate actions, but felt it may be too late to turn the clock back one last time.
“So, you mean something other than allowing heterosexual couples the opportunity to select their own partners to run through the SBP system to see if they are compatible. You have something else in mind, I take it?” Atera asked.
“I would like your approval to allocate the resources necessary for an expedition to old California to find the last known address of The Author and possibly the answer to one of the biggest mysteries of our time.”
Atera clearly understood the significance of what Jacob was proposing. It was the one thing she knew would make the people forget about other concerns. Even if Jacob came up empty, it would serve as a great distraction and give her time to work on an antidote.
Jacob arranged the meeting with Atera to discuss his proposal for the Old California expedition before his special, live report on the medical condition of the GAC. Ricardo invited himself to the meeting, but Jacob didn’t mind. In fact, he was counting on it. He needed to gauge his reaction as well as Atera’s for an expedition into one of the most unstable parts of the country.
“That is a very intriguing proposal, Mr. Rose. But how can you be sure the trip would be worth the risk? It is a dangerous place to travel on just a theory. Do you have any hard evidence to back up your hypothetical deductions?”
“There are never any guarantees on archeological digs. It is why we called them exploratory expeditions. You will only find the proof you seek when taking the bold chance to explore the unknown. If Michael is right, and I have never known him not to be when it comes to something of this nature, we could make a discovery on par with King Arthur’s Knights fulfilling their quest to find the Holy Grail.”
Jacob pitched his idea in a manner equal to that of an exceptionally shrewd salesman, highlighting pertinent prospects while brushing over any drawbacks, like making it back alive. Nobody knew who or what still dwelled beyond the border wall, and the need to explore the area had never been a pressing concern until now. Aside from its unknown inhabitants, parts of Old California existed on some hazardously shifting terrain of movable earth, perilously close to edge of breaking off and sinking into the Pacific.
“I understand the limitations and situational parameters of your proposal, but can you at least offer some insight of how your friend came up the idea. What is his thought process?”
“Honestly, Atera, it is as much of a mystery to me how he does it. He has a sixth sense for this sort of thing, an uncanny ability to be able to read between the lines and understand the true meaning of things. It gives him an insight I have never seen before. It is why I snatched him up from the intern pool the moment I realized his true talent. He is basically a human bloodhound. I mean, just look at his great escape from New York.”
“You make a good point.”
“I can tell you what he told me after getting the opportunity to study the book he found down there. He started noticing similarities between that writer’s style and The Author’s, certain phrases, contextual references, and other clues Michael would be better off explaining. He is the real expert. I just take the credit.”
Jacob leaned back in his chair in front of the desk Atera was sitting behind in the Guardian Administrator’s office-den waiting to see if the story he and Michael came up with to sell the trip was good enough to motivate her. After all, the purpose of any good story was to elicit emotion.
Sitting on his left, Ricardo did not show any signs of objecting, distracted by other thoughts relating to a six-month delay in making the changes to the SBP system. It was the real reason he wanted to attend the meeting. He planned on having his own private talk with Atera about prearranging a SBP match for him and Samantha, wanting her to think it came through normal channels, so she would believe they were a natural couple.
GP Sally and CP Flowers stood sentry in their normal positions, alert and ready.
“Why don’t we let Chief Magistrate Danielle weigh in with his thoughts?” Atera asked looking over to Ricardo, who snapped back to the current topic and away from one he planned for at a later time.
“I can certainly recognize the merits of your request, and I believe it would be worth allocating the proper resources to ensure the best possible results.” Ricardo freely gave his endorsement for the trip, much to Jacob’s pleasant surprise, but added what could turn out to be a costly condition of compliance.
“But I also think it would be wise to send along a couple of HOUSE guests to prevent any misfortune from befallen your valuable asset. Michael managed to defy the odds last time, but you cannot cheat death forever. It will catch up to you.”
“Believe me, it is something I have been trying to impress upon him myself for some time.” Jacob said truthfully.
When he first pitched Jacob the idea of a red herring address to throw suspicious minds off the trail to prevent anyone from uncovering their true objective, Michael reminded him it is always a good idea to sprinkle in a little truth whenever you lie.
2
The night of Jacob’s special live report, Michael was able to watch it from within the comfort of his home with Eve curled around him on the sofa, also having inside information preventing them from worrying about what the disturbing news reported.
Unfortunately, Warren Stacy could not say the same thing. Ricardo had a television set placed outside his cell with the volume turned up, not wanting Warren to miss a word. Hearing the sound come on with the TV, Warren raised his head from his cot enough to see the picture brighten the dark, gloomy cell. Lying prone on his cot, Warren had just about all the life sapped out of him as reflected in his disheveled appearance. Even though
he had only been incarcerated a short while, his beard stubble face made him look ten years older than when he went inside. He appeared to be a man who had given up all hope, and if any still lingered, the Special News Bulletin flashing on the television screen soon took care of whatever remnants remained.
“This is a Special Live Report with Jacob Rose,” the announcer stated in a serious, baritone voice as Jacob’s affably benevolent image filled the screen.
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen and citizens of New America, this is Jacob Rose with a disturbingly tragic story to report to you, tonight. It is my sad duty to inform you, our beloved Guardian Administrator Cain V is in coma after falling victim to a treacherous act of foul play. His condition is stable, but unresponsive. Doctor Samuel Penelope believes he is under the hold of an unknown toxin in his system. He is receiving the best medical care with the finest doctors and top specialists working around the clock to find an antidote or cure.” Jacob paused to clear his throat, trying not to choke on his next words.
“On a personal note, I regret having to report one of the accused perpetrators is my ex-roommate and client, Warren Stacy. Sadly, Owen Sandy fell to his death from a fifth floor window while resisting arrest. I won’t confirm or deny their guilt. We still considered everyone to be innocent until proven guilty. But due to another binding commitment, I will be unavailable to represent Warren Stacy in court.”
Warren sat up in bed with a growing rage rising up inside him at the mention of Owen. Jacob wasn’t going defend him this time and chances were Michael would not be around to help out either. He truly was all alone now.
“In related news, Atera Cain, the wife of the GAC, invoked Special Executive Order 228 and has assumed the powers of his office. She also granted Ricardo Danielle a full pardon and promoted him to the Chief Magistrate of the Land. In light of recent events, the proposed changes to the SBP system will still take place, but will exclude same sex couple matches. These changes will go into effect on this upcoming New Constitution Day holiday. Due to the highly volatile concerns, this issue needs to be re-examined and possibly re-thought, including my own personal philosophy on the subject. Once again, this is Jacob Rose, goodnight citizens of New America. As always, we stand forever united together in everlasting peace, and our fate is what we make it.”
Grinding his teeth in anger, Warren felt for the first time in his life he could kill someone. He did not target of his murderous thoughts at Jacob or Michael, knowing they were just doing what they had to do to protect their own. They both had so much more to lose now. No, Warren focused his near psychotic mind on what would be the best way to kill Ricardo, wanting him to suffer for what he did. Warren shocked himself at the different kinds of torture he would inflict if ever given the chance. In the end though, he would rather do it with his bare hands wrapped around Ricardo’s neck, choking the life out of him until his very last breath, all the while telling him over and over again, ‘for Owen, for Owen’.
3
The day before everything figuratively blew up all around Michael’s and Eve’s lives, Eve sat in the FPC waiting room locked in a contemplative meditation on the meaning of life and her reason for being here. Wondering at one of life’s crossroads, where we all decide our fate, if she had chosen the right path. She always believed we had more than one purpose in life, one that served the self and one that served the whole. Eve did realize, on occasion, they could be one in the same. Although for most of us, there are two different paths from which to choose, often going in opposite directions.
Littered with potholes, speed bumps, and obstacles diverting you down different trails from the one you started on, the path to self-discovery could be a hard road to travel. Oftentimes, it led to a defining moment in our character, where we learn and grow from our mistakes. But on the road to higher purpose, one false move or one wrong turn could have severe consequences on your life and sometimes the rest of the world as well. It was quite possible a person may never know if they achieved their higher purpose or if it served a greater good or aided an ultimate evil. It was a path that could be completely invisible, even when right under your feet.
Sometimes we are the hero making the great discovery or the villain who destroyed everything. We may have only played a small, but crucial role in providing someone else with a moment of inspiration. Or you could save somebody from stepping in front of a bus, simply by being in the right place at the right moment. But if you were running late that day because you spilled your coffee and had to change your suit, you may never know if the person whose life you were supposed to save might have been the one who cured cancer, ended world hunger, or reversed the effects of global warming. Of course, it could easily work the other way, too. Because you were on time, the person whose life you saved was able to go home and kill his cheating wife, or go postal at the office, or even be a corrupt politician who went on to become the President who started WWIII.
It was kind of like the age-old question. If you could travel back in time to kill Hitler, even as a baby, would you do it? The thing people never seem to consider was it would not matter if you did. Because by traveling back in time, you changed time—the Butterfly Effect. By killing baby Hitler, you altered time, which meant someone else could fill those shoes, maybe someone who was not insane and could have won the war. But, like the plot out of some silly science fiction movie, where a guy travels back in time to save the girl who will one day be the mother of the future savior. But then it turns out, the guy sent back is really savior’s father. It just doesn’t make sense. Logic dictates the future he came from would no longer exist, since the guy could not possibly be the original father the first time around, because he wasn’t even born yet.
These heavy thoughts filling Eve’s mind had to do with the fact if we could alter our own or someone else’s destiny, it proved nothing was unchangeable. Nothing was predestined in life. There were no absolutes. She found herself stuck thinking just because you were born to be someone special, like an heir to the most highly praised and revered man in recent memory, it did not mean you would grow up to be that person. Sometimes fate intervened, altered your course, and put you on a different path to another destiny. A person could end up going from being a good person to bad, or bad to good, and even good to better, or bad to worse. An excellent example would be a family dynasty of cops, but one of their son’s grew up to be a master criminal in a rebellious response to his mean, wife beating, drunk of a father. Or it could work in reverse with an old organized crime family’s spiteful son growing up to be a District Attorney so he could bust his father on the ultimate day of reckoning.
In the end, you can never tell if you will turn out to be Gandhi or Hitler, and sometimes you had to take it on faith you made the right choice, which was the real question plaguing Eve’s mind. If she never learned the truth about her parents’ would she still be sitting in the FPC waiting room twenty-six weeks pregnant with the son of the Prophet Warrior’s heir growing in her belly? The voice in her head waxing philosophical may have come from her subconscious mind, but the recalled thoughts were Michael’s from five months ago. A heavily guarded border wall acted as an actual and symbolic barrier dividing the old world from the new one. It also separated the young couple during those long months with over three hundred miles of landscape between them.
As if in synch with the rest of the country, the mood in the FPC waiting room was decidedly different from Eve’s first visit as a SBP family member. A dark cloud seemed to be hovering over the heads of almost everyone seated in the sterile, stark white room, with a somber atmosphere permeating the air. An amalgamation of storm clouds carrying different types of inclement weather systems culminated in a perfect storm centralized over the lives of those closest to Guardian Administrator Cain. Living in the eye of the storm could conceivably be compared to residing on top of an active volcano that had lay dormant for many years, experiencing long periods of inertia before the thunderous eruption rained death and destruction
down on everyone’s heads.
For Eve and Hanna, it was an environment they existed within for quite some time. Never knowing when the bow was going to break.
The door leading to the examination rooms opened from the inside as Bridget exited holding her one-year-old son in her arms, followed shortly by a nurse calling in the next patients.
“Ed Kelly, Kelly Hilary, and Edward Hilary come this way, please.”
Widower Ed Kelly got up carrying the surviving twin protectively cradled in his arms as Kelly lethargically moved along without having to put away any toys she was playing with because she did not take any out—unable to feel the joy of childish things since her mother had to be committed to a mental facility. The father didn’t display any more emotional affect than his despondent daughter did as he still felt numb from the senseless loss, only the infant seemed unaffected, hardly ever crying.
“Hey, everybody, I’m knocked up again,” Bridget informed her companions, trying to raise the spirits of her sisters in arms, or at least in wombs, spreading some good cheer after the inconsolably mournful family left the room.
Kim and Amanda were blissfully euphoric at the mention of another impending new arrival with Bridget going over and sitting down to engage in some maternal chitchat about nursing young ones and the maturity of men.
“I am so happy for you, dear.” Amanda congratulated her ability on successfully reproducing another future contribution to society as she cradled her newborn son in her arms.
“Are you hoping for a girl this time?” Kim asked.
“It would be nice having a little girl to dress up in pretty things and give some balance to my Boy’s club.” Kim noted her desire to even the tally on the home front as her son made his position known with a wailing cry for mommy’s attention and some mother’s milk.
Bridget’s young son took a cue from his baby buddy, crying out his desire for nourishment, too. Amanda’s son was peacefully napping.
“I know what you mean. Young or old, the male gender can be very adamant when they want something, often wanting it right then and there.” Bridget agreed with Kim’s critique on the opposite sex as she silenced her toddler’s pleas with a succulent teat.
“The only thing that matters is the health of the baby. Everything else is secondary.” Kim offered a clarifying statement.
Sitting in between Hanna and Jackie with her bulging twenty-six week pregnant belly standing out, Eve felt the need to give her still barren, two friends a few words of hope.
“Don’t worry, you two. Your time will come when the moment is right. At least, you will have the company of your men to warm your beds and spirits for tomorrow night’s big event.”
“It might not have the same fanfare as last year with everything that has happened, but the New Constitution Day celebration should still be a grand affair tomorrow night, especially for Hanna, who gets the VIP treatment this time around.” Jackie said trying to sound optimistic, while her gut kept churning from the pressure to betray someone she could honestly call a good friend, not like some other backstabbing pretender she used to think of as one.
“Her man is the star of the show after all.” Eve said without envy, living through it once was enough for her.
“Say, how long has Michael been out there now?” Jackie asked even though she knew the answer. “Didn’t he leave the day after you learned you were pregnant?”
“It’s for a worthy cause.”