Journey Through The Earths, page 10
part #2 of Centralix Series
“OK, that’s good to know.”
“Are there any more of these invisibots on 164A?” asked Ryanna.
“We’re looking. I don’t think so. We’ve been monitoring the intelligence agencies for the major governments here. They’re all baffled.”
“That’s good. Having a government sponsor of this technology would’ve complicated the situation greatly.”
“Yes, it would’ve,” answered Paul. “Do you have any other tips on how to take these things down faster? They are awfully destructive. It’s a major miracle that none of my people were hurt or killed. I can’t say the same for civilians.”
“How many civilian casualties?”
“Three hundred and twenty-six. It would’ve been worse if we had not engaged them when we did. They were at the edge of the D.C. suburbs.”
“Well, it’s a good thing you acted when you did,” said Ryanna
“Yeah, it is. I wish we could’ve engaged them earlier but I couldn’t get my people in proper position sooner.”
“You did well. The samples you sent us were helpful. I’ll send you a document detailing the strengths and weaknesses of what we know about these invisibots as of right now. What we have is pretty good. There are some interesting diagrams in the packet for you.”
“Thank you. I’ll look it over and brief my teams.”
“It’s fourteen hundred hours. Let’s check in with each other again at twenty-four hundred hours. That is unless you have any questions about the breakdown of the invisibots that I’ll send. If you have any urgent questions, call before then.”
“Will do,” responded Paul.
“Magistrate Keno Pronispe is in the loop on everything we’ve done. He is very concerned. He said this technology was not native to his earth and he has no idea how it got there. It sounds like his story is adding up.”
“Yes, it is,” said Paul Estelle. “There is no way this technology could’ve been built without some government help. Yes, corporations are very powerful here and you could argue they are more powerful than any government—but they’re hyper-competitive and too narrow in their focus. No one corporation could’ve done this on their own and there seems to be too much friction between companies for any meaningful collaboration on this scale.”
“Have you backed up this theory with any concrete evidence?”
“Yes, I’m working on the report. I’ll send it when I’m finished.”
“Good, can I get it before our next call?” asked Ryanna.
“I’ll do my best to make that happen.”
“Thank you.”
Ray Kytchner had a look of wonder on his face as he examined the piece of invisibot under the laser scope.
He worked in an all-white room that had been decontaminated. Clear glass made up the south wall of the white room. The air was very closely monitored along with the temperature. Ray had on his ultra clean white suit as he examined the robotic specimen. It was his first time looking at this newly discovered type of robotics.
“What do you think, Mr. Kytchner?” asked the blond man.
“This is phenomenal—absolutely incredible—I’ve never seen anything like this.”
“Step out of the clean room and give me a report,” said the blond man.
“But—”
“Now, Mr. Kytchner.”
He moved over to the entry hatch and pressed the button opening the door. He walked through the door into the transition area. He slowly started to take off the decontam suit.
When he finished, he walked out of the transition room into the foyer area of the plastic entry tube. He opened up the final door. The blond man was waiting for him at the door and he still wore his dark suit.
They had picked up Ray at his house around noon, it was now around ten o’clock in the evening.
“Well…” said the blond man. He was stone-faced as usual.
“Wow!”
“Can you reproduce this technology?”
Ray chuckled softly. “Are you crazy—I mean not yet. I’ve never seen anything that resembles this. This is way beyond anything I’ve ever seen.”
“OK, that’s nice but you will be able to replicate this—right? I’m not asking you, I’m telling you.”
“It will take some time,” said Ray.
“Time is not a problem as long as you figure out how to reproduce this—but you can’t take too long.”
The twins, the older brown-haired man, and the black man were at a side table playing cards.
“Uh, since we’re working together, what should I call you—what are your names?”
“What would you like to call me?” asked the blond man.
“Excuse me?”
“Give me a name. You can call me whatever you want.”
“How about Bob?”
“Bob will do.”
“You can call me Mr. Black,” said the big black man.
“I’m number one, this is number two,” said one twin pointing to his brother.
“Ooooooh kaaaaaay.”
“Pick a name,” said the older brown-haired man. He did not look away from his cards.
“Steve?”
“That works. I like Steve.”
“Give me your preliminary findings,” said Bob.
“Uh, it is amazing. I doubt it has a central CPU. It appears all aspects of the processing, memory and software are embedded in the entire robot. I don’t think there is a centralized system.”
“Interesting,” said Bob, “what else?”
“Ummm, the work is very fine and detailed.”
One of the twins stood up and walked towards Bob and Michael.
“Burger King, McDonalds or Wendy’s?” he said.
“I’ll have McDonalds,” said Bob, “I’ll have the usual.”
“And for you Mr. Kytchner?”
“I’ll have Wendy’s—a double cheese everything, large fries and a frosty.”
“OK,” replied the twin.
“Thank you, I’m starving,” said Ray
“Thank you, what?” said the twin.
“Huh,” replied Ray.
“Thank you, Mr.?”
“Thank you, ah, Mr., ah One?”
“Ah, no. That’s one,” he said pointing to his brother, “I’m number two.”
“Ooooh kay,” Ray replied softly.
The six-foot ball of shimmering light appeared on the shore of a lake in northern Wisconsin and Paul Estelle stepped into it. For a few moments he was disoriented and then his vision cleared. He was in a large study in an ancient castle.
Before him sat a tall, dark haired, white man. He wore cream-colored dress pants, black shoes with buckles, a white button down shirt with ruffles, and a long black dress coat.
“You must be Mr. Estelle,” the man said formally.
He stood up from the brown cloth couch with wood trim and walked toward him, hand extended. They shook hands
“Thank you for seeing me, Dorian.”
“You are most welcome.”
The room was huge and had a high ceiling. A fire was going in the large fireplace. Two massive couches faced each other and a bearskin rug covered the stone tile floor between the two couches.
“This is quite a palace,” said Paul.
“I have twenty-five bedrooms, a dining hall that seats 200, a large study, three expansive libraries, and a dungeon with various means of punishment—of course—because you never know what kind of creatures from other realms may wander into our neighborhood.”
“Of course,” answered Paul. “That is impressive. And how often do you have guests?”
Dorian cracked a small smile.
“You know the answer to that question, Mr. Estelle—not often.”
With 18 overlords and 180 science-based earths you would think they would all have dominion over ten earths apiece, but it did not always work that way.
“So 164A is new to your portfolio,” said Paul, “you’ve had it almost a year now, correct?”
“You already know the answer to that question so why ask it?”
“Well—”
“Never mind—you humans have the annoying habit of being addicted to small talk. I find small talk or nothingness talk to be very irritating. To answer the question, you were slowly meandering your way around to—I won this Earth in a game of poker from Contrellas.”
“I see. So that’s how it goes. You all—ah, Overlords—do things differently than us humans.”
“Yes, we do. This Earth here is a troubled Earth. It is troubled but it has potential.”
“Why the possession of the dead?” asked Paul.
“I had to announce my dominion and ownership to my new subjects and possession of the dead was perfect. They represent the dark corner of human existence—the place everyone wants to deny. I used the dead to temporarily turn normal people insane. Madness is the most feared condition of the human existence. It is feared because it can be random. Madness is feared because it appears to be irrational. If madness gets too out of control, humanity’s existence hangs in the balance. The mentally ill are the most misunderstood people on that earth. Do you know why?”
“No, why?”
“Because everyone is afraid they may become them. The line between normalcy and madness is a lot thinner for humans than you think. Trust me. I have a birds-eye view of billions of humans on multiple earths. You humans are so odd. Most of course are merely dysfunctional and not dangerous. When governments fall on hard fiscal times, what is the first program they cut? Treatment for the mentally ill. Yes, humans prefer to walk around with blinders on when it comes to the mentally ill—and from time to time—one of the few afflicted with violence—lash out—and yet nothing ever changes. There is such a random nature on getting help for the mentally ill on this earth.”
“Do you really think your spotlight on mental illness will help the cause of the mentally ill? I’m pretty sure your concern for mental illness has been lost on the people of 164A. They think the attacks were zombies or some strange anomaly.”
“I can always continue educating them on the fine line between sanity and madness.”
“Do you really believe this will work?”
“Eventually, yes. At some point, humans will get over their fear and make sure these people get the help they need. It’s much easier to do this than to continue to ignore these people. Most of these people can be effectively treated. In the worst-case scenario, these people can be managed. Adolf Hitler was mentally ill you know.”
“Yes, I am well aware of that.”
“And yet, people on my earths let potential Adolf Hitler’s run around with no treatment or supervision. Sometimes you have to shock people into action. The way you humans treat the mentally ill is inhumane. You humans must get over your fear of becoming the other.”
“I agree. So is this why you have caused so much fear and destruction.”
“Yes, this is what you do when you shake the world up. Too many people on this planet have their heads—how do you say it? Heads in the sand. They are complacent while the world crumbles around them. They needed to be jolted out of their collective sleep. There is decay all around them—yet these humans do nothing. The humans on this earth are mad. They have agency. They can collectively change their conditions—yet they don’t. It is crazy—so I give them a taste of their madness. Collectively, they are closer to my madman in the streets than they care to admit.”
“So mental illness is a metaphor for larger issues facing the human population on this earth?”
“Yes, precisely. I’m so excited you get it.”
“Don’t you think it’s unfair to use innocent people briefly touched by mental illness to do your dirty work?”
“They’re not innocent—they’re heroes. I am using them to spur the development of the human race on their earth.”
“They are not viewed as heroes by the people you terrorized.”
“Yes, that’s true—but they are still heroes. I gave them meaning. Their lives took on a greater purpose.”
“If you say so. I still think you used and exploited those poor people. Were you responsible for the invisibots?”
“Of course. They are delightfully devilish contraptions aren’t they? You humans never cease to amaze me with your ingenuity and capacity to murder one another. If you devoted half of the energy you use creating new weapons of war to more productive pursuits, you would amaze yourselves. Your educational, health care and food delivery systems would vastly improve.”
“I have to agree with you on that. But who are you to preach about violence when you are producing it right now as we speak—probably on some of your other earths as well.”
“My friend, I must communicate to your people in a manner in which you can understand.”
“OK, interesting.”
“You don’t agree with my methods. I sense you’ve dealt with my type before so you understand my considerable power.”
“Yes, I do.”
“You came alone. I respect that.”
“Thank you.”
“You know you do not have enough magicians with you to take me down?”
“Yes, I am aware of that,” replied Paul.
“Yet, you came anyway. You wanted to talk face to face—man to deity so to speak.”
“Yes.”
“Impressive.”
“Thank you, again, Your Excellency.”
“Thank you for finally addressing me in the appropriate manner. So, why are you here?”
“To learn of your intentions.”
Dorian chuckled softly.
“I think I’ve made my point. I’ve gotten the attention of a lot of people. Hopefully, more subtle methods will suffice from here on out. That is what you want to hear.”
“Yes, it is. The question is do you mean what you just said or are you telling me what I want to hear.”
Dorian let out a hearty laugh. His long dark hair subtly moved as he walked over to a wood cabinet.
“You are a rather courageous one. I have never met a human with balls of steel like you. You have lived up to your lofty reputation. Mr. Estelle, do you know what the ultimate test of courage is?”
“No, Your Excellency.”
“What do you do in a catch 22 situation? Both your wife and your child are at the brink of death. They are on opposite sides of a vast meadow and you can only pick one. Who do you save?”
“That is a hard one—it’s an impossible situation.”
“Yes, it is. Courage is making whatever decision you deem to be appropriate and living with it. Not second guessing yourself. Courage is trusting your instinct in that situation.”
“I see. Interesting.
“Wine, my friend?”
“No, thank you, Your Excellency.”
“I admire your courage—coming here all alone.”
“I have dealt with your peers before. You are not the boogey man. Yes, you are powerful but you truly want what’s best for the people who live on your planets.”
“What is the purpose of having Overlords?” asked Dorian.
“That is an age old question that humans have yet to answer in a satisfactory way.”
“We exist to nudge you humans along to a higher state of development. You are a stubborn race of beings. Sometimes you give us no choice but to use extreme methods.”
“We can be a stubborn lot. I can’t argue with you on that.”
“Do you know how many earths I oversee?”
“No.”
“Sixteen. Eleven Centralix Federation Earths and five earths that don’t meet your stringent and lofty qualifications to be part of the Federation. Their technology is not up to your high standards. Do you know I have the fewest problems with three of the non-federation earths? They treat each other well. Wars are rare, they respect the environment, they share resources with one another and for some reason they don’t freak out when they meet someone who looks different, acts differently or believes in different ideas.”
“That is interesting, Your Excellency.”
“These humans on your 164A are a dreadful lot. They are stagnant. They’re looking to the past rather than looking forward to the future. I cannot—I will not—allow that thinking on one of my earths. All I’m doing is shaking things up. I will continue to do so until these people wake up and take control of their collective future. It’s what I do—it’s what I must do—it’s my responsibility. Do you have any more questions?”
“No, Your Excellency.”
“Are you satisfied with my answers? You know of my type. Is my reasoning and actions out of line with other Overlords?”
“No, Your Excellency.”
“Do you know what my hand was that won this earth?”
“No, Your Excellency, what cards did you hold?”
“A pair of sixes. Contrellas—she had a three of a kind.”
“You are very skilled.”
“Yes, I am I suppose. Mr. Estelle, this may come as somewhat of a surprise to you but I love the humans that inhabit my earth’s. Do you know what the true meaning of love is?”
“No, Your Excellency, what is it?”
“It’s a beautiful dance—the power of an orchestra at its peak—it’s the cry of a lover in the throes of passion. Love, my friend is the foul smell of your lover’s breath in the morning. It’s the tears from the sting of pain in your lover’s eyes—the sting caused by your actions. Love is your lover not closing off his or her heart to you despite the pain you’ve caused. Love my friend is acceptance, persistence and most of all forgiveness. To truly love you must learn how to forgive. Once you learn how to forgive—you must continuously practice the art of forgiveness.”
“That is an interesting perspective, Your Excellency, and do you know what—it makes perfect sense—I can’t argue with it.”
“Thank you, Mr. Estelle. What is your next step? What will you do now?”
“Observe. Observe and try to save lives. You must stir the pot. Our job is to try to keep the spills from the pot to a minimum.”
Dorian smiled.
“Yes. That is well put. I think we have an understanding.”
“One last question,” said Paul.
“Yes,” Dorian replied.
