A thunderstorm, rising quick sand, the secret service and a president falls on his sword! Part Four

A President Falls on His Sword
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I am watching a press conference on television. It is the President. Of what I wonder? I think the world. Times have changed obviously. Thu is with me. I told her the truth, even though I should not have. Secrets such as this are hard to keep. I hope she can keep it better than I have.

The damn reception is bad as well! Can you believe it?! This future sucks.

Ok back to the President. He is announcing that he has a terminal illness. The collective gasp is clearly audible. He is standing down effective immediately. His speech continues and he wastes no time in raising our spirits, we need to continue on without him, the heavens await us! The speech ends with universal applause. He has received many in his illustrious career, but none to rival his last. Mr President steps down from the podium, the camera is panning away, but I catch a glimpse of his eyes as he turns away.

I suddenly realise that the events portrayed on the television were in the past. I know this because I was there the day the President was executed. Well some might argue it wasn't an execution. They would have a point as well.

The President was placed in a metal apparatus of sorts. Only his head was showing once it closed around him. There were others in the room with me at the time (not Thu of course, government official types), but they were irrelevant. He did not look at me once as the final piece of the machinery descended upon him. He stared straight ahead with little expression at all. I think his mind was far away, as mine would have been in his predicament.

His head was finally encased in metal as well. A metal box. A mini version of the one that incased his body, although this one had more tubes and wires. At that point the machines started whirrrrring (is that a word?), beeping and hissing. Then it was over and the President was no more. Remember Han Solo? Same deal I guess, but totally different.

I came out of my reminiscing at this point. I am back with Thu and we are at a desk (for those that care the desk is in a former family home of mine, in Birrong). On the desk in front of us is a metal box. Funnily enough it has tubes and wires sticking out of it.

Unhappily I begin to open the box. It doesn't so much open, as get dismantled. Bit by bit. Again think Star Wars. Return of the Jedi to be precise. The second death star is in its death throes. The Emperor is dead and Luke is alone with his father, who wants to see Luke with his own eyes before the end.

The moment of truth is here. I lift the final piece off the puzzle and see what I already knew would be there. It is a crescent shaped strip of silicon material, in the shape of a man's mouth, part of his nose and one of his ears. I could have lifted it up and placed it over my own mouth like some kind of macabre mask. I didn't of course. That would be insane and disrespectful. I was glad Thu was here, but wished that she wasn't. It wasn't exactly a pleasant sight.

"Who is it?" the mouth asked.

I was about to reply when it began talking to itself. The brilliant man it once belonged to was now no more. Of that I was sure. To imagine life as a strip of silicon/skin is so mind warpingly horrific that even now I can't bend my thoughts enough to capture the concept. What must it be like? What can you sense? Where do you go, what thoughts would you have? What are you exactly?

Scientists and theologians have discussed the realities of this punishment. There are many disagreements, but I believe there is one consensus. It is a fate far worse than death. We have found a way to trap souls.

This was the first time that this method of 'execution' has been carried out. Only humankind could conceive of a situation where its recipient was the brightest amongst all our souls. Notice I say brightest. What was his crime you may ask? The details I do not know. But I do know that were this information revealed to you, half would immediately agree with the sentence. The other half would weep.

My thoughts wandered to the group of mysterious women who set me on this path. They sent me forth to prevent a calamity. To save humankind.

What have I done?


The End

A thunderstorm, rising quick sand, the secret service and a president falls on his sword! Part Three

The Secret Service
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I am sitting at a table discussing matters of no great importance. This is unusual, I normally don't talk about frivolous things. Then man I am talking to is an older gentleman, dressed well, a respectable man, a man of importance.

A voice cackles in my left ear. I spring to my feet and tell the man, "Mr President, it's time."

He rises and straightens his tie. Mr President walks through the door I have opened for him. He enters a hall to much acclaim.

As the President begins his oration, I take stock of the situation. The hall is crowded, though it is not a very large hall. In fact it is my old high school hall. Not the high school of this incarnation, but my high school. Those of you who went to high school with me will know it. Picture it filled with citizens. Picture a president on the stage, at the podium. Picture me several steps behind him and a little to his right. His right hand man perhaps. You can be sure I am not the only one of my kind in the room. My men litter the hall. Dark suits, ear pieces. Scanning, always scanning.

I feel uneasy. As we all knew I must at some point. The President is doing well, he is loved. A strange thing I know, but he is loved. Once in an age such a man is born. The people watch him adoringly.

I leave the hall. I am searching for danger. I know it is near. How do I know? It is like catching a glimpse of a friend. She disappears, lost in the crowd. But you know she is here now, so you search for her. It is only a matter of time until you find her...

There are a couple of people standing around. I ignore them. Then I see two men in grey overalls. They are bearded. They carry cabling of some sort and just as I see them they walk into a doorway. One glances at me -

"Stop right there!"

My firearm is out, but the first shots are not mine. I dive to my right and roll. I am screaming something. Calling for aid perhaps.

My assailants/quarry are a grey blur. I suddenly remember this is the future. Even though I am in a setting from my past. I keep this in mind, it may save my life. Assumptions can be deadly. Hahahaha listen to me! Who am I?

I chase them out into the quadrangle. Unfortunately it teems with people, running fantically in all directions. The gunshots have panicked them.

I scream for them to get down.

"Anyone who doesn't get down DIES!"

Harsh I know, but it was imperative we catch these men. Or kill them.

The crowd responds instantly. All but one man in a grey suit. The fool!

"Who are you?" he demands. "Put that gun away! Don't force me to take it off you."

Ye gods what is he doing?! He is reaching into his jacket! I scream for him to get down. That I was deadly serious. This was not the time my friend!

He ignores me and tries to pull something out of his jacket. Something clicks in my head. This has happened before. The click I mean, not the events occurring. Emotions vanish and clarity is achieved. Adrenaline is a beautiful thing.

The man crumples to the ground and I am already off and running towards the school gate. I never saw what he was reaching for. It didn't matter if it was his wallet in the end. He was in the way.

I get to the gate and see an empty neighbourhood street before me. Damn. I am flanked by two of my men. The neighbourhood has been locked down by the local authorities. Road blocks cover all streets in and out of the area. Helicopters can already be heard overhead. My men are very efficient it seems.

More of them now gather around me. I grab a map off one of them and explain the search pattern. In groups of four I send them off. It's only a matter of time...

Time passes.

There they are! Hands bound, the terrorists are escorted by my men across the street towards me. There are civilians milling around beyond the cordon. Press as well I'm sure. I need to keep the media away from this. Until I knew more I didn't want them nosing around. I suddenly realise my gun is now in my hand, hidden behind my back.

Just as they reach me, both prisoners explode into action. They break their bonds easily and agents are sent flying. One grabs an agent and uses him as a shield.

BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!

They were like quicksilver, but in the end not quick enough. Amazingly no one else was hurt. There would be no answers from these two though. Another dead end I thought, not knowing why.

Suddenly there is an uproar. One that seemed to imply that the events that had just occurred were inconsequential. They were right.

The media swarmed around two of my agents approaching with another man. He was in a poor state, dirty, his shirt was ripped, but his eyes gleamed with defiance. They screamed well played. They screamed it was worth the gamble, even though he had now lost everything.

No! I thought, anyone but him!

Damn but it was a black day.


End Part Three

A thunderstorm, rising quick sand, the secret service and a president falls on his sword! Part Two

Rising Quick Sand
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I am a university student. I believe I have assumed a different incarnation of myself. I am on the ground floor of an apartment and the mother of all house parties is all around me. Students drinking to excess. I recognise Pramod. He may not recognise me though.

I have a vague sense of life in fast forward. It's as if I was born and then someone hit fast forward, x32, until this point in time. For some reason they hit play at this point. Maybe they wanted me to have a sense of myself. This was not the moment this version of myself was born for, but it would help me understand this incarnation.

Someone screams! Understandably so, because the floor of the apartment has turned into bog and everyone is sinking!

"Up the stairs people!" someone shouts. Actually I think it was me.

I follow my own advice by diving for the handrail. I use this to help me drag myself up. Disturbingly the stairs are also made of quicksand. I clamber onto the handrails and use them to get upstairs. I leap from furniture to furniture as the bog level rises, a very discouraging sight. I see people following my lead, others are too slow, or slip and are dragged under. There is no time to save them...

I make it to the roof and see scenes of chaos below. People are clinging to trees and cars, whatever they can find. The bog/quicksand level seems to have stopped rising. Helicopters can be seen in the distance, their search lights on. Rescue is at hand. What insight did this little episode reveal? I will probably never know.

Someone has pushed the fast forward button again.


End Part Two

A thunderstorm, rising quick sand, the secret service and a president falls on his sword! Part One

ThunderStorm
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I was riding my bicycle and the sun was setting. It had been a glorious day. I didn't remember the details, but I knew it had been a fine day because of that warm glow inside me. I am in the suburbs somewhere, it feels familiar.

Then the dark clouds rolled in. When you see these kind of clouds, you know you're in for something special. These were storm clouds that had stars sprinkled amongst them. It was dusk and it was spectacular.

At this point the wind picks up, I have lost my bike but have gained a companion. His name is Alan. He would be twenty one now I think, but the Alan in front of me is just a kid. He looks worried. And well he might be because a jet liner screams overhead, it is trying to take off... or is it landing? In any case it is dangerously low and the storm is causing havoc. The rain starts coming down and the plane seems to regain control. It ascends for a few moments. Then disaster! Control is irrevocably lost! It tumbles out of the sky and crashes with an almighty explosion! Smoke can be seen billowing from behind houses, it can't be more than a few hundred metres away.

I grab Alan by the hand and rush towards the scene of the calamity. Just when I know the crash site is around the corner the storm escalates beyond measure. Suddenly I'm worried. As I round the corner an awesome sight greets me. A tornado, a vortex of black menace, heads towards us. It spits lightning and the roar is deafening.

There is no time to flee. I tell Alan to grab a hold of the steel wire fence we are next to. We cling to the fence as the maelstrom hits. Our feet are lifted off the ground, the shriek of the wind is so loud that my hearing shuts down. I am now viewing the world in total silence and Alan is losing his grip.

Just as one hand slips I grab it. I pray that the fence holds because the ferocity of the tornado/storm/maelstrom has increased, if that were possible.

Then as suddenly as it came, it was gone. My hearing returns and the first sounds I hear is my own heavy breathing. The last rays of the sun appear again and the scene is bathed in that pale rusty colour that is an Australian dusk.

A van or bus pulls up beside us. I help Alan get in.

Inside are a group of women. Their beauty is stunning. The beauty is of an ethereal kind, born of elves and angels. There is a little bit of X-Files thrown in though. Angels they are not. It's their eyes you see, there is great wisdom there, but also mischief and wantonness. Thinking is difficult.

One of them takes Alan and he curls up in her lap. Envy! The little conniving brat, he must be faking. If only I could get away with it!

Suddenly I am talking to two of them. The others watch on. I will never remember what we discussed. One of the regrets of my life to be sure. I recall the gist of it though. They ask questions. I answer. I ask questions, they answer. All the while I am having 'a crack' if you get my drift. They know and respond. They hint and suggest. I can't help but take the bait. But I know it will go no where. They are teasing and so am I (sort of).

Then it gets serious. They have heard what they wanted to hear and I have agreed. As if I had a choice. To the future I need to go. To save humanity or some such thing. I don't care, I just want them to talk to me a little longer. They smile sadly and tell me my time is over.

Farewell sweet maidens!

End Part One.