--Sampson Residence, Los Angeles, USA
“So...what do you think it is?”
The question hung in the air like ‘Will I see you again?’ hangs on the front porch of a first date. There was no more polite small talk to tide the trio over -- it was time to get down to brass tacks.
Clifford was the first to attempt the question and Violet watched him carefully. She had been somewhat surprised to hear that he was the younger brother of Sergio Samson, the news anchor on CNF, though she was now beginning to understand the understandably difficult dynamic it likely was. They appeared to very different people.
“I’m honestly not sure. First let me say that -- I haven’t passed a final decision on this. But I have been reading a lot of different perspectives online, and it seems to me like there may be some sort of mind control program going on. ‘Subtle Revelation’ may in fact be ‘Subtle Surrender’. You look at the facts, and it’s seemingly the same all over the globe: approximately one-third of the population has noticed this phenomenon -- that little something in the back of your mind. Who is to say this isn’t just what happened when someone flipped the switch somewhere. North and South Pole antenna stations--” he stopped abruptly as his eyes fell upon his wife standing in the threshold to the kitchen with her arms folded over her chest, shaking her head.
“Darryl, Violet if you must suffer my husbands incessent ravings can I offer you something to eat or drink?” she asked the pair, smiling politely while giving Darryl a look of intensity. “I would ask Darryl, but as you can see he’s been brainwashed to spew the latest shit that some pothead writes on the internet.”
“No that guy is off the forum now...” Darryl offered, but left it at that. “Anyways, I am sorry, did you to want anything? It’s no problem really... I may have a beer or something.”
“Yeah I’ll have a beer.” Darryl responded quickly, and this time Violet shoot him a look. What was he doing? This was a semi-investigation.
“What?” he responded laughing at Violet, “Look at what we’re taking about -- I don’t think we’re exactly on duty here, cause if we were, we’re actually be breaking policy.”
“Violet, beer/wine?” Murial asked with another, more friendly smile. “I may have some wine... if Cliff insists with this nonsense.”
“No thanks.” Violet responded as nicely as she could. “I don’t drink, but by all means go ahead. Liquor just doesn’t really agree with me you know?”
Murial nodded knowingly and headed back into the kitchen.
“Ok, your turn.” Clifford said simply, staring into Violet’s eyes.
She stared back.
“Well, my approach was a little more pragmatic. See, Darryl and I were called to investigate the birth of a child who, apparently, was able to kill his drug addict father by throwing him through a wall with his mind.”
“Fascinating...” Clifford whispered as Murial re-entered the room with a glass of wine and a couple glasses of beer.
She took a seat.
“Yes.” Violet nodded, going on as Darryl took a sip on the beer. “I found it quite interesting, so much so that I went back to the hospital to speak with the doctor. He wasn’t there, and is apparently missing now, but I was eventually able to find out that the baby was born at the exact moment Subtle Revelation started -- three-eleven PM our time.”
“Incredible!” Darryl exclaimed! “We need to get to the web with this right away!” he enthused, glancing at his wife for some sort of affirmation.
She downed her glass of wine.
Darryl was staring at Violet now, mouth slightly open. “You went to the Hospital? Violet... and how do you know that Doctor Prioux is missing? You have no idea where he is?” he shook his head slightly as he processed all the information.
“I’m not sure where he is....” Violet stopped there. She knew Darryl was on the verge; she could feel it. Com’n she thought in his direction. I need you....
This time Murial spoke up. “The sad thing is... I felt it.” She smirked, shaking her head slightly. “Three eleven... I felt it. But, do we let it over take our lives? We have families and responsibilities...we cannot just drop them.”
“It’s our responsibility to protect them if we are in the position to do so.” Violet stated near-instantly, looking directly at Murial.
Murial gave a small thoughtful nod, smiling politely back at Violet as she silently judged the female law official.
“Alright look...” Darryl started, a look of intensity on his face. He was beginning to see the gravity of the situation.
Violet smiled.
“... we have family, some of us kids -- I think since we live in this area we at least look into where this Prioux guy has disappeared to” he finished, looking directly at Violet. “Let’s do it.”
Cliff laughed slightly, “Alright so it’s decided!”
“Well, not quite” Darryl interjected. “Cliff, you must not do advertise this at all. Don’t tell anyone what we are up to here.”
“Especially online!” Violet re-affirmed passionately. “Do not mention the baby at all!”
“Ok...” Cliff nodded sagely, clearly making sure his self-restraint was up to check.
“Murial?” Violet more or less stated. “Please...”
“Yes, don’t worry I have no interest in sharing this with anyone.”
“Good.” Darryl concluded, clasping his hands together. “Now before we leave, there is one more thing. It’s about Lynus...”
“What is it?” Clifford asked, his wife’s eyes doing the same as she locked onto Darryl.
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--Hotel Akasha, Los Angeles, USA.
Tully sat in one of the generic hotel chairs looking across the room at the blindfolded Jocelyn, who was now fully under the drug’s effects, and laying peacefully in bed. She was his soul one, and it was becoming more clear to Tully that she would have to be in his life. If he lost her he couldn’t envision what would keep him from turning into a emotionally devoid robot. He could drum up emotions at cue as part of his training -- but love is different -- it’s always different.
“Alright Lynus...” Tully said exhaling slightly, “Let’s do this.”
The Hump was actually somewhat afraid of what this kid might reveal. From what Jocelyn had told him already, he knew quite a bit. ‘Sort of everything’ were his words. Why he unloaded the true answer to everything she asked was somewhat of a mystery still though. Surely he knew the average person would not be able to handle it?
Tully wondered if she had asked him about him.
“Ok.” He said simply, sitting there, lost in thought. It seemed that despite his desire to share things at times, he was mostly fairly quiet. Always watching.
What a life! Tully thought with a small smile, for once remembering the Donaldsons of the world with more on their plate than him. “Ok well I guess my first question is: What is it? I mean... What did they do, exactly, to enable this? I know that families such as your parents will surgically alter the brain stem in their newborns for intelligence in the general sense, but this something I have not seen before. You seem to have unfettered access to... facts, somehow -- How? ”
“I’m not totally sure...” Lynus admitted slowly.
“Well...” Humphries laughed. “I gotta say.... I’m impressed so far!” he joked. It was good that he could joke at a time like this. You’re still sane Hump.
Lynus laughed slightly, and Humphries realized it was the first time he had seen him do so. “Well, there are a few things which I simply can’t seem to access... and then there are other things which I can, but are sort of blurry. Your question falls in the second category” He shrugged. “I’m pretty sure the Doctor just made a mistake at some point in the surgery.”
“Ok, so how does it work then? Where are these limitations?”
Lynus exhaled slowly. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this out loud...” he said softly, more so to himself. “You see...my parents knew something had happened to me, but I would not tell them what I could do, knowing the things they had done. Imagine knowing...from as young as you can remember. They are truly horrible people.”
Tully waited intently.
“Ok, the man you know as ‘High Priest Von Brown’ explained to you some years ago during your training, that energetic world gives rise to the physical world, right?”
“Sure.” Von Brown was about the closest to evil Tully had ventured until his meeting with the Cless.
“While you have been trained to maneuver around that border in your perspective, mine seems to have been established right on that line. I can’t see auras, I can’t hear thoughts or move objects or...well do any of that stuff, just view events. It’s not something I am ‘good’ at, I simply don’t know anything else.”
“Interesting.”
“Yes, I have a hard time understanding emotion and other things most of us take for granted. My experiences are not guided by emotion as I do not appear to have any. Rather, I have a cross-listing of all the historical events in which emotional dynamics enable me to come to conclusions about how to behave in communication. It is a slight over-simplification, but let us say that there is no ‘room’ in my head for anything less than fact.”
Upon these words Tully shifted his vision to slightly to see the boy’s chakra system, and sure enough his heart chakra was there, though unused for the most part. The clockwise spin was slow and dull. His crown chakra was the biggest Humphries had ever seen, and bore down into his skull intersecting with the third eye. What a tortured soul this boy was.
“What can you tell me about the Cless?”
“They puzzle me.”
“Why?”
“They seem to be able to block me out somehow. Well, I don’t think they target me in particular, just have a sort of barrier they use. I know of them, as their name is ushered now and then, but an image, facts... I simply cannot access those events. I am not sure how they do it, although I think I do know what they are.... and what you were not told in your training.”
“Getting to the good stuff now are we?” Tully asked with a nervous smile. Not only did he have memory blanks from his training, he could barely remember his life before he had gone into it. It was not something he thought about often as for the most part he couldn’t. He glanced over at Jocelyn again, the only link he still had to his days of innocence.
The ghost was exposed for what he was -- nothing in the mirror.
“Yes. You see for the most part your training was on the techniques, and not the theory and philosophy behind the teachings themselves. You were fed propaganda on how the GCT would help to lead the world into the new paradigm, and how people as a mass are too blind to do it themselves. You were brainwashed and tortured into forgetting the things which can set you free.” Lynus shook his head slightly as Tully’s own lost history played on repeat behind his eyelids. “Such a tortured soul you are, Tully Humphries.”
“We all have our parts....”
“Well, I will explain now how this giant show came to be to the best of my ability. You see, the energetic world has two parts -- male and female, ying yang -- and what the Cless seem to represent and force on the world is an imbalance towards the male. All the different political trends I can trace back to their origins throughout history seem to have perpetuating that end as the underlying goal: the imbalance. That is how it appears to me: as if the female is subservient to the male half, and I truly have no idea how this happened. That is the missing piece from training you never had. Why the world never gets their training in the first place. The reason the female side is so hard to access, and requires years of estranged training to utilize is because it is so weak and non-present. They allowed you to learn of it, only to have you use that power to further diminish it from the earth. You were intended to be an agent of death, and were for a time until recently. “
“......Eva” he said quietly, trying to process the information. It made so much sense it was sickening.
“Yes, Agent Humphries, she seems to be connected to the so called ‘Subtle Revelation’ phenomenon, but that is all I can tell you about her. As I said, I don’t know people, just events, and you know all the events that have happened leading up to her current position in Canada.”
“Except for what happened to the mother.”
Lynus looked down. “She is not dead.... but she wishes she was. She has no idea. The tests, the pain..” he responded quietly.
Tully exhaled ever so slightly through his nose, shaking his head in silence.
“Wait, there is one thing I forgot.”
“Oh?” Tully asked, raising his head sightly, trying to push the thought of the mother from his head. “Yes, Dr. Prioux, the man who delivered Eva.”
“....?” What about him?
“He is... changing.”
“Changing, how?”
“I am not sure, exactly, but it seems to be the result of looking into the child’s eyes. He moved a glass on his kitchen table the other day with his mind.”
“Fascinating...” Tully whispered, considering the implications of all of this.
“Yes.”
“So what else?”
“Well, there is one major thing, and that is the concept otherwise known as ‘Divergence’ on the news. The man you know as ‘Donaldson’ as in on this, and that is the main difference in the intel you receive.”
“What is it?”
“I am not positive, it is a little hard to describe, but I believe it to be related to the male half of the etheric taking over the seemingly necessary portion of the female. The in-balance happening in the energetic foundation is affecting the physical manifest of the world we see around us. What is worse, is that I believe this to be the Cless’ plan: they want to completely eliminate the female presence that could threaten their rule. They must not realize that in doing so, it will shatter the world we know irreconcilably.”
“How couldn’t they know?” Tully mused. “I’m not doubting you, that’s the thing... perhaps they want to shatter the world?” The agent chewed on this thought for a while. Things were starting to make a bit of sense, and a new objecting was coming into view as he cleared the clouds, and reached sunlight.
“I am not sure. I’m sorry.”
“Well...” Tully let out, chewing on his lip. “Lynus, Jos...” he glanced over giving him a small smile. “This is it. The evidence is right in front of us, and it’s playing the music of holistic logic. This is.... it” he repeated, trailing off.
This is it.
“So I guess the final question, Lynus, is: What I do now?”
“When I access information, I look for links. When I found you, I stumbled onto one of the best links I had ever come across. Think of what you know. Meeting Jocelyn allowed me to perceive of your existence, and once I knew of that I was at the crossroads to a lot of different avenues. I used these to piece this together -- from what I had already learned through my parents and all those connected to them. There was one avenue I found anomalous, though, and that was the man you know as ‘Faust’.”
“Faust?! Wow...” Tully exclaimed, raising his eyebrows slightly and leaning back on his chair. “Now there is a name I haven’t heard in a while” he admitted truthfully. In fact, Tully found it suspicious he hadn’t even thought of the man since he had left that day. The Hump’s memory recall was stunning to say the least, and he was positive he hadn’t. Not one thought.
“Yes, for some odd reason his life has also has a barrier around it.”
“Well I think we have our answer Lynus, and I think I may know why. Damn man, you were right after all.”
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-- Doryski’s Residence, Stalingrad, Russia.
The two men were seated in front of the grand fireplace, which took up nearly half of the wall in Doryski’s large study. The Italian leather armchairs were a duplicate set he had bought off of the supplier for Buckingham Palace. Doryski enjoyed one-upping that wretched old hag whenever chances allowed. Seated across from the old Russian was Calvin Solomon, one of his many contacts, and apparently in possession of the Book of Equinox.
Pavlovic, Doryski’s nephew and body guard stood watching the conversation leaning against the wall beside the doorway quietly. He was a fighter of many skills.
“You have more than exceeded my expectations” Doryski cackled, his raspy Russian voice cutting through the noise from the howling wind outside. “I am so relieved -- you have no idea. I am still puzzled as to how you obtained the book, though, Calvin Solomon.”
Calvin Solomon shrugged slightly, exhaling a bit. “Honestly, Sir, so am I. Perhaps you can meet this kid someday, he is quite something -- something of an anomaly.”
“Anomalies breed the unlikely, and the unlikely is often trouble. Though I am glad you brought the book, thank heavens for that.”
Calvin Solomon blinked a few times in thought, wiping a piece of lint from his suit jacket to bide some time. Was he hiding something? “Sir, I didn’t bring the book.”
Pavlovic’s hand slid up to the trigger of the semi-automatic.
This time it was Doryski’s turn to blink a few times, his brain making sure it had processed the information properly. “...and why is that, Solomon?” he asked quietly, rage now racing through his thoughts, searching for the most malicious ones possible. Logic protested, but only slightly. He thought he had the book, and now it was gone -- nothing but blinding rage could ensue from this, and both parties knew it.
“Sir, I am sorry, let me say that first. This was not an easy decision, please believe me on that.”
Pavlovic’s index finger rubbed up and down on the gun’s safety playfully.
“Go on.” Doryski grunted, his eyes unwavering from the target. The old man felt it all building up internally. That insolent little yebat! I’ll eat your eyeballs. I’ll beat it out of you and take it all from that jackass rapper. You fucking American bow-tie hui!!!
“Put yourself in my position Radir, would you give you the book? What are you going to do with it? I will complete the mission. If there is one thing you taught me it’s to be careful, and I think I am being careful in this instance, considering your message. It came from your group, and so it must stay from your group.”
Doryski slammed his fist down on the armrest, and Pavlovic’s raised the gun from his waist slightly, his eyes racing attentively. “Do you even know what you are doing? I will have the book, but not before I beat your face in! There is no other option.”
“No, you won’t. I am sorry to say this, Radir, but if you come after me, we will kill whoever you send.” Calvin began to stand from the armchair fit for a Queen. “I can foresee of no other way, but I had to tell you in person.”
Doryski’s anger blew over and lunged forward with the intention of just strangling the mysterious black asset of his. Had he gone insane? To come into Doryski’s house with these threats? I must have that book! There was no two ways about it, he would not suffer Steinchild’s fate! Only as he lunged forward he noticed he couldn’t do so, and almost threw out his back in the process. He was pinned to the chair somehow, and looking over to Pavlovic, the old Russian saw he was gone. “What is this?” he finally asked, looking up at Calvin Solomon now in a mixture of rage and confusion. “What the fuck is this?!?”
“Like you said...” Calvin Solomon began, walking for the exit. “Anomalies cause problems. I promise you I will finish the mission, sir, please do not make this any more difficult than it already is.
“You don’t understand! The nations will rip up everything in the search! They... who we serve, they demand it! We must have that book, don’t you see? Gimme the fucking book!!”
“Don’t you see, Radir? Whoever they are, you must stand up to them. Whatever the cost.” Shaking his head Calvin Solomon walked from the room in quiet contemplation, the Russian’s wave of hysteria crashing around the escapist.
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--Hotel Akasha, Los Angeles, USA
Jocelyn opened her eyes very slowly. It was an odd feeling, to just take in the sensation. There was an energy for thought itself she had not felt in a long time -- a certain vibrance. She loved it. It was a seemingly new, and slightly disorienting world; one free of the previous thought-patterns littering her mental landscape. Now she stood in an open field, inhaling the wind. Things were back to how they should be.
The bedroom door opened and Lynus entered the room. Seeing Jocelyn was awake he smiled slightly and closed the door quickly, making his way over to her. “You’re awake! How do you feel?”
“Good.” Jocelyn studied Lynus carefully for a moment, looking deep into his bright blue eyes. “Lynus I... uh...” She bit her lip, bit a small smile crept onto her face, pulling her lip from underneath the tooth. She started to laugh. “Thank You!”
She laughed, and laughed some more. It was a glorious day.
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--Theta Falls Forest, Los Angeles, USA.
Anderson was never easily impressed.
Whenever he saw athletes on TV he sort of said to himself: I could do that -- I could build a better TV. That conclusion was established early on it seemed, but it figuring out how to actually do that which seemed to be the main problem.
It was a lot of work; and so it seemed it should be to Anderson. Eventually he came to see himself not all that different from the athletes, as you truly do have to work for something if you want to have it. Were he saw himself as different, though, was in his ability to direct his skills in a direction he himself had more or less chosen for sheer coolness. He did not want to be admired for being good at something many people do, he wanted to be amazing at something no one does.
As he sat on the soft moss which lined his favorite position in the forest meditating, his soul rose up from the cracks in lucidity with those ever so subtle holistic revelations:
The monks.
It wasn’t so much propulsion
Feathers and stones
But a phasing of the body
Dhalsim
!local
Anderson slowly brought himself back. The feeling of his eyes came into reception and he slowly opened them, allowing the as much information to be dredged up to waking life as he manage. A small smile spread across his face as the afternoon sunlight shone down upon it. He stood, wiping slightly wet dirt from his bottom.
“Amazing.”
________________/
Kyllael hovered just above him, watching the young man clamber to his feet. The robed figure had been seeing more and more cases similar to this one lately, all over the world the chi devices seemed to be popping up, ‘balancing the hemispheres’ in several regards. Perhaps there was hope yet for a return to equilibrium. Teleportation is no easy task for a human mind in this type of hijacked atmosphere.
The ancient figure closed his eyes as he moved deep into meditation. At times all he wanted was defeat -- the final blow -- anything to bring this wretched timeline to a close. It seemed like every time that happened, though, he would see another one of the kids such as today, and things would get just a bit less wretched.
It was a fascinating timeline, this one, duality manifested in the strangest of polarities.
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--Lil’ Parsons Crib, Hollywood, USA.
Diandre stood outside of the American’s lofty place standing beside Max [his last name].
“Well, shall we do this?” she inquired, quickly giving the front of her pantsuit a quick wipe down, before unbuttoning a few of the buttons on her collared pink shirt, dabbing on a bit of her visual hot sauce. Refined gold strands of blonde aromatic grace flowed down to her shoulders, and around her soft, angelic face. Diandre wasn’t a so much a beautiful woman, she bordered on the paradox of perfection within an imperfect world. The same went for her mind. There is a statistic that there are more men ‘geniuses’ in the world, but when the women breach that threshold they do it better. She proved that when she beat the fabled ‘Humphries’, the bloody ‘miracle’ agent.
Max was drunk. “Yeaaa let’s do this D.” he exclaimed with a sloppy grin, giving her a small thumbs up. “Father says that this kid’s worth is quite significant now, and is increasing alarmingly fast. To hear father use those exact words is somewhat of a landmark, this house doesn’t look that impressive though.”
Imbecile. She thought, but then took it back. He was only here as surveillance for his father, but he was not dumb. He recognized it and had fun with the task -- she had to give him that one. “That’s because he’s smart, right? Ok, let us continue” she uttered with a small grin making for the door, but to her surprise it opened as she went to knock.
“Hello” a slender black man in an emaculate suit with a red bowtie said simply, looking over Diandre and Max with a small smile. Seemed like a nice guy.
Diandre went to scan the house but found herself unable to. A sphere surrounded the premises etherically, it was a mirror of sorts and trying to pry through only seemed to give Diandre a better realization of why her attempts were futile. What is this? She thought, totally off-guard.
“Hey, I’m Max [his last name], and this is my associate Diandre Simmons.” He motioned to Diandre.
The assassin nodded. “Hi” she said politely, her mind in full gear now. Some sort of third party source was trying to pry through her shield, and was quite skilled it seemed. She could not trace back to the assailant; conceptually it was nothing but the illusion of darkness. She could feel sweat starting to build on her brow as she struggled to maintain focus. How? Someone inside the house? Focus Diandre, remember your training. She took a deep breath, centering. He seems unaware, he is being protected by someone. Most likely inside the house.
“Yes, I know you from TV, of course.” The butler responded to Max in perfect English, politely, seemingly unfazed by the energetic happenings, or Diandre’s irresistible allure, as she watched the man’s aura carefully. “I’m sorry, I do not know you though” he added, looking to the goddess again with a slight smile. “So what can I help you with?” he asked clasping his hands in front of him.
Diandre got her second wind, taking over the conversation in the physical, and switching to defense for now. Skilled ghost or not, if she was not putting herself out there, her shield would be effective, despite suffering the slight blow to her ego. She hoped at least. “Well, we were just wondering if perhaps we could have a chat with Mr. Parsons?” She took a few steps closer, looking over the butler conspicuously, glancing around at the interior of the home. “Call it, a business deal, bow-tie...”
“What kind of deal?” The butler asked with a seemingly genuine smile, taking out a small pad of paper a pen from his front pocket. “Perhaps Mr. Parsons can see you tomorrow at his off-
“No. Maybe we can arrange something else. This is rather urgent.” Diandre responded simply, smiling provocatively while taking another step closer, picking an eyelash from the butler’s otherwise stunning suit. It wasn’t visible to the naked eye, but Diandre had her set dressed set up quite nicely. She held it up to who she presumed was the owner, before blowing it away softly from her fingertips. She peered deep into his eyes -- an odd color of green surprisingly. She transferred the thoughts as strongly as she could, pushing the signature of a possible future with her for the benefit of the man. “I just touched your DNA. Exciting isn’t it? Like I can taste it...” she whispered, moving closer clutching the crest of the suit slightly. She watched his aura carefully, but it did alter at all! No color shifts, nothing!
“Yes, it is interesting. It sometimes begs the question of whether the information stored in that eyelash is the same as what is stored in my cells right now. Perhaps my DNA from a year ago would look differently? Taste differently even...” he trailed off, and instead of alternating his attention between Max and her, stared deep into her eyes, that green becoming brighter and brighter.
That’s when it hit her, unlike anything before, as she was transported to some alternate reality. Pleasure flew through the entirety of her being; a self-amplifying wave after wave of utter ecstasy. She felt nothing but scorching hot wetness before losing all sense of being lucidity. There was no attack, insofar as she could tell, she did not see the butler or feel the darkness. There was room for anything else when it comes, and it came.
“...yeah well I’m driving there right now. No, I told you, I don’t what happened. I think she was trying to do her seducing thing but maybe it backfired...”
“...looks like she pissed her pants...”
“...I don’t know! She just collapsed. I told the fucking butler I’d take her to the hospital, he agreed. We didn’t even get to see this kid...”
Diandre opened her eyes, and saw the disgusting roads of LA flying by. So dark, so dismal in their frequencies. She really felt it.
“Well, I’m not a bloody agent am I now Father? Look this isn’t helping, I’ve got--
“Max...” Diandre said softly with a small smile still plastered on her face. “Where am I?” she asked instinctively, looking around to recognize the front seat of Max’s Aston Martin. She was more-or-less upright, and buckled in. How much time had gone by?
“Hold on, she’s awake!” Max turned from the phone, taking one hand on the wheel and placing on Diandre’s shoulder softly. “Hey, oh goodness, you’re awake. I was worried, D. Usually you are...you know...you.”
“Me...” she said softly, thinking about the concept.
“Do you want to go to the hospital?”
“No, I’m fine. I’m....fine.”
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--Deep in a forest somewhere near Presque Isle, Maine, USA
Humphries let out a small exhale as his rented Nissan Versa traversed the narrow makeshift road The Hump had almost missed due to its extreme lack of being in the first place. Faust was brilliant, but getting information out of him was an arduous task much of the time. The path to his house in the middle nowhere Maine, was no exception.
After his dismissal from the group, he became a recluse but for reasons Tully had yet to figure out. No one was after him. In fact, the problem was the reverse, as no one wanted him at all. His tragedy was that as a prophet of sorts he put too much faith in one of them, and when it wasn’t realized things changed.
Faust was an alias cast onto the shadow of his real name, long ago. He had chosen it because he felt that knowing the truth in a world shielded from such, he had sold something close to innocence – similar to Faust in Goethe’s masterpiece. Tully did not see this, but they had always been different. The Hump always considered himself closer to his soul because of his unique position.
Still, they had friends at one time – this thought was affirmed when the shoddy wooden door opened and Faust smiled slightly. “So, you felt it too then?” he said, extending his hand warmly. “It’s good to see you again, Tully.”
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--Thirteenth Sub-basement of the UN building, Geneva, Switzerland.
The pale glow of the fluorescent lamps above hummed the subtle symphony of feigned illumination. The room wasn’t bad, per say --it was immaculate and well designed to say the least-- but with no windows the dull light in the room was a real downer. Surely the UN could afford a newer type of bulb, somewhere closer to sunlight?
Jacolyn Renese may have been the newest seat on PGA, but she had the sinking feeling that she was the only one on the panel who was thinking about this holistically. She knew the rules of this challenge, but it seemed instead her teammates were more specialized at different positions and tactics, rather than students of the game.
PGA stoods for ‘The Panel for Assured Global Advancement’, but much to the surprise of the French President, there was nothing assuring about this secret arm of the UN at all. It was idiotic at best. There they were, discussing matters of global bio-science, and besides Jacolyn’s background as a marine biologist in the French Navy, there were only two true scientists present; one from each from the US and Russia, who both seemed to be a little too fond of the phrase ‘morally grey territory.’ Two real scientists, and that was it. Other panel members included: the US and Russian leaders, who had today skipped class; an Australian ‘Facilitator’; English trans-industrialist Sir Wilkog T. Dombraun; a rather mysterious Chinese representative who seemed to know a fair amount about atmospheric physics himself; The Canadian Prime Minister, and of course Jacolyn.
The French President found herself watching the other members of the panel as the two scientists gave their update before the small crowd of world hotshots. They stood at either side of a small podium, behind them was a large flat screen TV which displayed their presentation. The rest of the panel members sat mostly in the first row of a set of comfortable chairs which arched around the podium three rows deep. It was about the second meeting, most of which revolved around the usage of these aerosol experiments in the upper atmosphere of earth, that Jacolyn more or less confirmed this program would go on whether or not she agreed with it or not. She knew this because she disagreed, but continued to sit there meeting after meeting in a silent acquiescence. When she had brought up public safety, or morality issues -- just to test the waters -- she had a rather explicit email from the French Prime Minister waiting for her upon her arrival back to the office. She thought it was probably the Australian that ratted her out, had the enforcer look to him. These days she spent most of the time snuggled into the corner of her leather chair, trying to figure out what operating system the scientists were running on their laptops, why she was even there in the first place.
“So essentially we are seeing that the ionization of these barium salt particles in the upper atmosphere is working, though it is slower than we might have hoped for, which is why we may need to look at upping our employment of aerosols slightly.” The US scientist concluded in a slightly raspy, dry tone as he glanced up at the slide behind them on the screen. “As you can see here in figure 1, the ground level temperatures are being significantly cooled by this process, which in turn is helping us to manage the core dynamics to thus become more predictable. The actual cause of Divergence seems to be unknown at this point, but by cooling the earth we can slow it’s effects.”
“So, if I may inquire, what has changed since last time?” Jacolyn asked quickly, her accent near flawless.
The Canadian Prime Minister glanced her way, he projected neutral but she detected a hint of silent applause from him.
The Australian enforcer, Sebastian Arthas rolled his eyes slightly, pursing his lips. “Nothing has changed” he said flatly to the room in general, before finally letting his stare fall on the French Leader. “Perhaps that is not that way you would like it to be, but I somehow doubt any of us want this Divergence
as a problem for us and the world, but there it is nonetheless now ain’t it? Would you have us do nothing?”
Jacolyn rolled her eyes slightly, a small smirk growing onto her lips as she studied this fellow from down under. “It’s been ten years now, and you mean so to say you still have no idea what this strange effect is?” She looked around the room slightly. “If you want to feed us this propaganda, Arthas, then fine, I will sit here and listen to it, but you know I am not an idiot, so do not expect me to behave like one.”
Arthas stared at her, unresponsive. There was no silent applause in his eyes.
She went on. “How much has Wilkog Dombraun made from the aerosol production?” She glanced in his direction for a moment and he smiled politely. “How much longer till we deserve the unabridged version? If you don’t want to let us in on the true information, I’m sure you have your reasons, but I’d be interested to know how long you think you can keep this up. You are littering the air with these substances. However hard to detect, you heard the internet report, this is being noticed, and I’m not sure we can have this going for much longer, at the rate of deployment. You heard the reports earlier...it’s getting really quite hard to keep something so public a secret. Dombraun’s bribes, and your fear, will only take so so far. ”
The room was silent, the different members looking around at each other.
“Am I wrong here, or should we not be worried about this?”
The Canadian spoke up. “She does have a point, does she not?” he asked somewhat openly to the crowd.
More glances.
Jacolyn noticed the Chinese reprsentative, Huong Ny, was staring at the figures on the display intently. In front of it the two scientists were conversing quietly as they watched the political arm of this session play out. “My government has been doing some testing of it’s own.” he said, finally, and all all eyes fell on the usually silent man. “From what I have seen here today, China will be backing out of the PGA upon my arrival back to Beijing. We will not listen to the lies which are evident here. The answer to this question has grown suspiciously delayed in it’s arrival. Chinese people can, on our own, come up with a better solution which does not involve poisoning people. We will research independently and ”
Arthas pounded his fist on the desk, furious. “That is ridiculous!” he exclaimed, the steam of anger visible in his exhale. “Do you know what you are doing?” he asked, glancing over to Jocelyn and giving her a vicious stare as well.
“Yes, much better than you seem to be, in fact.” Ny responded instantly, in a calm and almost soothing voice. His accent was apparent, but his speech was eloquent nonetheless. Huong’s stare wavered between Arthas and the scientists. “I think we all know that this decision was not predicated on President Renese’s opinions here, it is simply time to face realities. Childish tantrums will not change my mind, but I assure you if we see one of those planes in our skies will we shoot it down and take this public.”
Arthas Snarled a grunt through his nose before preceding to pick up his phone of the desk, presumably for a test message of some type.
Wilkog T. Dombraun shook his head slightly. “Why are those two imbeciles never here?”
Jacolyn smiled slightly. Divergence was something that weighed heavily on her mind, especially having to attend meetings such as this one. She didn’t think the (s)praying was working, though, and was somewhat glad to see a possible end to this merde montrer. The lack of any clear understanding of this strange phenomenon was something which bothered her. She was curious as to what the US and Russia’s reactions to this change in plans would be.
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--Royal Bank Branch #3201, Halifax, Canada.
Halifax is a small city, and most of it’s population is composed of students during the non-summer months. There are three major universities, and several community colleges all within the small confines of the traditionalist Nova Scotian capital city. Bob had never gone to any of the schools once his years at Dartmouth High School were up; and although not something he regretted, he often felt that it left him with a feeling of divide, especially with the current generation of students. He was getting older, and while he certainly did not doubt the accuracy of intelligent things these kids said, he often wondered if all of this felt so wrong.
He pondered all this this as he entered into a bank branch behind a young man who looked to be as student of some sorts. The kid, lost in his music had obviously not heard Bob behind him and simply carried on into the branch unaffected.
Bob Copeland waited that extra few seconds with one hand on the brass handle of the glass door, watching the young mother approaching the bank with her newborn in the stroller. It was sort of a dark and stormy day in Halifax. Bob was seventy-two, and he had seen quite a few dark days in his time; he tried to counteract them by going out of his way to make it somewhat more enjoyable for others. Bob had never been rich, or all that lucky, but he tried not to let it get him down. He had been married once and that was enough for him in this life so long as he had hockey and beer. His was a simple approach, but he was proud to at least walk around with a smile on his face. He felt human.
“Thank you very much” the young woman responded with a smile, taking the door herself with one hand as she eased the stroller through the door, moving to get in line behind the young man with the headphones in. She looked to be about the same age as the student, but mostly because of the child, did not have that look to herself.
“How old is...she?” Bob asked with a smile from behind her in line, moving forward slightly and bending down to shake one of his old thick fingers in a playful fashion at the child.
It laughed slightly, reaching in Bob’s direction and he smiled.
“She’s 6 months, tomorrow.” The mom smiled proudly, looking down at the child. “Her name is Haley, after my grandmother.”
Beautiful he mused.
The kid listening to music had been watching this interchange, and gave a small laugh as he looked with apparent disgust down at the scene before moving away to a now vacant ATM.
The young mother looked received the kid’s look and glanced down at Bob, now with different eyes. “Ok...come on now Haley, let’s leave the nice man alone” she said, moving the stroller forward slightly in an apparently friendly sort of bouncing way. “Have a nice day.” she said to Bob with a quick smile.
He leaned back up right. “You too” he responded with a smile, though somewhat deflated. Why had the boy laughed? What was so funny about a baby?
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