Diana. Near now, in an office, guarded by men with guns. Another flash, and what must have been hours before…as she’s rushed out of an observatory at gunpoint.
“Son of a bitch…”
Miriam never looked back at him. “Oh, are you seeing our little present we’ve got waiting for you?”
“How did you know what I was seeing?” It took all his effort not to lunge across the seat and grab her by the throat and squeeze until that horrible smile finally disappeared.
“Same as I know how badly you want to kill me right now.”
Montross took a deep breath, let the bottle expand, and forced another drink. “I want to know what you are.”
“And I,” Miriam said, leaning in, “want your cooperation. But now I have the leverage to ensure it. I know, for example that what I want you will give me. Where your friends are going, for example. But more importantly, you’ve had a connection to the artifact. You know how to work it.”
“Yeah,” Montross said. “Let me have it when they bring it back. That worked out great for the last guy.”
Now a dark expression crossed her face, quickly and then it was gone. “Again, I’ll have insurance this time. You really should have stayed unattached, dear Xavier.”
“No fun in that. Lonely life, no meaning, yada yada.” He looked out past her, seeing the road extending toward the clouds, the rolling Atlantic on their right. “So, you realize your ‘insurance’, as strong as it is, isn’t enough to make me sell out all of humanity.”
“How about save it?”
“What?”
Miriam gave him a look. “I told you before, there are different factions, and many of us wanted no part of Calderon’s plan.”
“So why didn’t you stop him yourself? Take out some ‘insurance’ of your own against him?”
Her eyes looked away. “I knew you had it covered.”
“What? How? Not even we knew.”
“There are other ways, some of us can see through all the possibilities and know at least in broad areas, how the future will play out.”
“Really? And what do you see now?”
“I see our destination.”
“Already?” He leaned to the right and looked out the window. “I know we left the turnpike a ways back and have been heading East, now on Long Island, and… ah.”
“What are you thinking?”
“Thought you could read my mind?”
“You’re thinking, because we’re heading for the lighthouse and the facility at the end of the island, Caleb would have loved to be here.”
His eyes shot back to her. “What the hell are you? And yes, I was thinking that. Also that he would know what all this is. I remember something about a conspiracy and other bullshit happening here. Montauk, right? Oh yeah, the Philadelphia Experiment. Time travel, Nazis…”
“Now you’ve got the spirit! And oh, if you don’t help us, we have a backup.”
Montross blinked, watching the lighthouse loom larger. “Caleb’s in Australia, we’re all sure he’s…” He groaned, held his head. “Actually now I can’t sense him…anywhere.”
“Oh that.” Miriam moved even closer, whispering, “Try now.”
With the last word came a rush of energy.
A flash of a kaleidoscopic vision.
Whirling colors, electrical discharges, an unfamiliar man in a black hat standing before a madly spinning bell-shaped thing as a rip in space appears, and another figure, most definitely familiar, is shoved through, stumbling and falling to his knees.
“He’s here.”
20
Surprisingly, the encryption around the Custodian Program folder itself was light to nonexistent, as perhaps the coders believed anyone snooping through NSA servers would think something so lightly defended had to be just what it sounded like: a janitorial sub-folder of minor importance only to the administrative functions of the facility, not worth anyone’s time.
Orlando, through his affiliation with Caleb’s non-stop theories about conspiracies and stuff that would make even believers in the Illuminati shake their heads, knew this term held something far more meaningful and sinister.
Phoebe had met one of these beings in the caverns of Afghanistan, and again at Mt. Shasta, someone who while proclaiming he and the others like him only watched humanity from a distance, unable to act or intervene in our plight, told her that she was meant for something. A destiny to fulfill.
All of which sounded like these guys had access to time travel, or at least the same kind of future-seeing psychic ability we’ve sometimes accessed. Orlando knew all this had rattled Phoebe, and after long months of silence she had eventually opened up to him with her fears and doubts, but not fully, not until the twins came along. Their arrival had changed her perspective. Becoming a creator of life gave a newfound realization that the destiny he spoke of might have had something to do with these two profoundly beautiful beings introduced into the world, brought into being after the union of two powerful psychics in their own right. Twins… Like Isaac and Jacob, but likely more talented. Could their future be what that Custodian had seen, and why he had broken his silence to ensure Phoebe kept on track?
What about me? Orlando wondered, but didn’t say out loud. He knew she understood as well. He had a role, maybe more than just a Joseph-like escort for the Messiah(s), but something more.
At least, he liked to think so.
Now, after a quick glimpse of the data stream from the camera in his cell, Orlando checked on his body: incapacitated, wired up in a pod-like chamber reminiscent of a dozen really cool sci-fi films he could think of; but at least he wasn’t in some kind of tank of floating goo. That would be just too much.
His consciousness, still freed and loving it, moved on. He dove into the Custodian file after cracking its meager defenses, and then promptly found himself greeted by only two folders. A file labeled simply ‘orgn.mov’ and another folder: ‘subjcts7’.
Movie time, Orlando thought. Sit back and enjoy the show?
Again he marveled at how easy this had been, but then again…I’m not supposed to be here. Should just be locked up in lala land, all drugged up. Maybe they think my mind is in a daze too. Not so. Let’s take a peek here and see what this has to do with our little bald friends.
Moments later, he had the truth. Before the video was even half complete, he was multitasking, going through the ‘subject’ file, downloading, studying and understanding everything — if not believing half of it.
Then came the worst shock of all, that none of this was by accident. All of his ‘expert’ snooping, the success at which he had torn through arguably the most secure data network in the world, it was all planned out.
All to bring him here, to this program.
Flashing back for a moment to his body in the pod, a pod so similar to seven others he had just witnessed in the ‘origin’ file, he had a terrible, terrible feeling now that he knew why.
To be sure, it wouldn’t take long. One more review of everything, starting with…
The film.
A grainy early color video with date stamp of November 12, 1962.
A military general type addressed a room full of suits. Just about everyone was smoking a cigarette. None of the people looked pleased, and a few appeared shell-shocked while others had outright fear in their eyes.
“With the Partial Nuclear Test Ban Treaty in effect, our investigation into all this is effectively ended” The general sighed, slowly shaking his head.