The Mystery Broadcast
GRAMPS’ COMPOUND IN THE ESCAPADES
He receives an urgent message in time for him to catch the last cycle and a half of the rogue transmission. The video of his complex appears on the screen along with the banner showing one of his three compounds. He jumps up, screams, and throws his glass of Vino into the Tello, shattering both. “How in damnation can this happen? Someone will pay.”
A petite, dark-skinned servant cowers at the outburst, and hurries from the room. In the kitchen, several of the servants view the message on a small monitor suspended from the ceiling. “The Master’s furious,” signs one of them, “things will be harsh around here for a while. We need to avoid him as much as possible. Let’s hope he returns to Abydos,” they continue signing to one another. They recognize the repeated noise of things breaking in his study.
“Get my MagnaTranz ready—” Gramps yells into the communicator. “We’ll leave in twenty minutes.” He turns to his wife sitting across from him. “I’ll get to the bottom of this—regardless of how long the task takes.”
“I plan to go to the mountain compound day after tomorrow,” she says.
“Good—I’ll meet you soon.”
OFGRAT HEADQUARTERS
The Quad Pack’s return is safe.
Renny planted escape plans in the personal lockers of dozens of his most trusted associates, sliding the folded papers through the louvered vents in the locker doors. Prior to leaving, they broke a large piece of translucent material into small pieces, careful to remove all traces of having been present. The area appears as one massive failure.
Eath Marshon and a group, including Bannon Eas, Betta Kahnn, Renny, Kizziah Jayne, Colonel Leahn Baanar, and others are fixated on the Tello. He checks his timepiece. “Any second now.”
They cheer when the rogue programming starts, and each settles back to enjoy the entire seven cycles. They listen as they wait for the response from The Broadcast News.
After the explanation, Kahnn says, “They gave the most unprofessional elucidation possible, and they bungled the continuation of the return to the regular program making obvious the lineup is prerecorded. They did us a favor with their shoddy handling of the situation.”
“Yes, they did,” the colonel says. “I hope the majority of the viewers figure this out.”
“Are we planning to make another transmission?” Renny asks.
“The plan is for the same time for future broadcasts. The contingency depends on getting the Mobile Interface moved to another protected site. We think a record number of people will be captivated at the same time tomorrow. We want to exploit the message, but the security of the equipment is priority.”
“What’ll be included in the next transmission?” Bannon asks.
“We again include the script account updates of the stars of today’s program. Now’s the time to reveal the prospect of the rogue planet making a flyby. We want to play the event down as much as possible until we understand the timing better. We want to raise the possibility and expose the real happenings in The Inner Dome. Each broadcast will include a streaming banner showing the running balance of our star’s script accounts, since the previous day’s revealing,” Leahn says.
“How many transmissions?” Kahnn asks.
“Four for sure...the fourth program will contain the Fresh Start List and put real targets on the individuals involved. We’ll televise as many as we can without jeopardizing the overall mission of OFGRAT,” Colonel Baanar says.
“How did you get the names?” Kizzie asks.
“Our analysts found a reference to the plan in one of the engineering files stolen by The Conversant of Opaque. I brought the file name to our people, who worked with fervor to locate and download the data,” the colonel says. “Three days ago, they succeeded. The NEX and their wives are the elite passengers. Our engineers reviewed the drawings and specifications of the spacecraft, and concluded ample room and life support is available for one thousand people for five years with basic needs. The boarding manifest is for two hundred two. A detailed load inventory of the personal items the NEX and their wives intend to take is a disgrace. Surviving isn’t enough—they plan to take an unbelievable listing of luxury items. They’re willing to let eight hundred people die so they can continue to enjoy many of their extravagances. Thus far, our people failed to find the planned destination.”
“I wonder where the music came from?” Kizzie asks. “The melody is one of the most beautiful and captivating pieces I listened to.”
“The background tune is written and played by a member of The Conversant. We didn’t get his permission the purpose is served so well, we decided to go ahead. I’ll ask Commander Jasen to contact Jadan, and make him aware. He’ll be in grave danger if the piece is linked to him.”
“The next thing I want to suggest,” Baanar says, “is consideration to invite The Conversant to join OFGRAT. They compiled a large amount of data and resources, which would be invaluable to the cause. They’re part of Opaque, and they’re having trouble with some of their fraternity brothers. Booze and sex are more important than the missions. They’re PLEASURE NOW oriented. I can tell you this—they’re the ones who shut down The Dome Project and commandeered many of the engineering and construction files. You’re aware. I and several others enjoy the benefit of joint membership.”
“Sounds like an excellent idea to me,” Kizzie answers. “Should the rogue globe stay on track, we’re going to need to pool the best resources of the planet if we hope to survive.”
Those present agree, and Baanar is to request a meeting with the leaders of OFGRAT.
SUPREME CHANCELLOR’S OFFICE
Jerka is at his desk receiving a briefing on the bedlam in the street outside the government compound wall. Several hundred people, with banners demanding an explanation of the broadcasts, are marching and chanting. “Get them out of the road. The Articles prohibit unapproved demonstrations such as this—we can’t allow the trend to keep growing—use whatever means necessary, but disperse the crowd. I give you my approval to use as much force as required to end this now.” He shouts orders to Director Joanz. “Do this right for once.” He slams down the communicator.
Moments later, he picks up the device and dials a number. “Keiver—how the hell did this happen? How did you let The Broadcast get hijacked?”
Keiver cringes. His anger flares at another of Jerka’s attacks. He reached the point the subject no longer matters if he is right or not. I withstood all the brow beatings I can handle. For sure, no one is stupid enough to try hijacking the same programming another time. He brings himself to say, “More intimidation won’t happen again.”
“You better not, or you’re a dead man. Do you understand?” Jerka is enraged.
Moments later, his intercom buzzes. “Yes?” he barks at the desk set.
“Your niece’s here as you requested. Would you like me to send her in?”
“Yes.”
The door opens, and his niece enters. He stands and says, “Take a seat. This won’t take long.”
Liza sits down with a puzzled expression on her face. “Why’d you want me to come, Uncle?”
“My brother would turn over in his crypt if he understood what I learned. I told you when I started your allowance not to embarrass me, and you agreed.” His anger is raging.
“Yes—I did agree. Why are you so upset?”
“I find the facts embarrassing enough to learn you’re so promiscuous you need three back street abortions. Now, I find out you’re pregnant by Klyn Joanz.” Jerka displays an evil stare. “A total of four unauthorized pregnancies—how do you think I will appear to the powers if the word gets out? You must understand if my family doesn’t come across as disciplined, how will the leaders judge me? Effective tomorrow, I am cutting off your pocket money. I might consider reinstatement if you clean up your act. You’re an embarrassment to the entire clan.”
“He and I plan to be unified before my condition is—”
Jerka interrupts. “The hell you will...I called in a government doctor—the baby will be aborted now—right here in this office.” He stands with his face flushed and veins protruding.
With calmness, Liza reaches for her bag and pulls out a tube about a quarter of a meter long. She places the piece to her lips and makes a muffled spitting sound. Faster than Jerka’s ability to react, a small object flies from the end and strikes him in the throat. On his face is an expression of shock and disbelief. Moments later, he collapses face down, on the floor.
She hurries over, removes the small dart, and stows the fatal device and the cylinder back into her bag. A tiny drop of blood trickles from the minuscule hole. She spits on a tissue, wipes the spot away, and waits for a few seconds to determine if the bleeding continues. She puts the hankie in her handbag, and knocks several large items off the desk to the floor beside Jerka, making a lot of noise. She screams at the top of her lungs.
The assistant rushes in.
“Please, will you call for help? Uncle collapsed.”
She bends down and checks for a pulse and finding none she hurries to the communicator and dials the crisis number. “This is an emergency. I need a doctor in the chancellor’s office now,” she shouts into the device. She dashes back over to the chancellor and begins cardio pulmonary resuscitation, continuing until he and medics arrive.
He checks for a pulse and heart beat. He finds none, and he tests for pupil reflex with a small light. The pupils are dilated and non-responsive. “I think he’s deceased. His muscles are all limp. Get him to Abydos Medical Center’s disaster entrance in a hurry. I’ll accompany you,” he says to the medics.
An hour later, they pronounce Jerka dead from a suspected seizure. An autopsy will determine the cause. The vice chancellor is present as is Jerka’s Chief of Staff. They make the decision to suppress the news of his demise because of recent events with The Broadcast and the riots.
“So many protests and demonstrations are underway, and the chancellor’s passing away may fuel more civil unrest and uprisings. We need to get things settled, and under control before we announce he’s gone,” the vice chancellor says. “Put his niece under house arrest until we decide to confirm his death. Remove all her communication devices. We don’t want her talking to anyone, for now.”
Keiver Belan is selected to insert the drop of venom into the Jerka. He arrives at the assistant’s desk and demands to meet with him. “I am sorry, sir, but he isn’t receiving anybody today.”
“He’s seeing me.” He starts toward Jerka’s office. The assistant intercepts him before he reaches the door.
“You can’t storm in on him like this. He’ll bust your arse.”
He pushes her aside and enters. He detects the items from the desk scattered over the floor. “What happened in here?”
“A family emergency—he left in a hurry, and I did not take time to straighten up.”
“How soon will he be back?”
“I’m not sure—all depends on how long the emergency lasts.”
MAGNATRANZ STATION AT KREST OF BOZZA
Ryner arouses Relo about fifteen minutes before their arrival at the city. He dresses and collects his pack. He thanks him and gets off at the Mail Express Terminal. He pulls the maps from his pocket and locates the one for Kedra’s shop. After a short walk, he is standing at the door. He steps inside and spots a young woman helping a customer. He waits until the buyer checks out, walks up to her, and asks, “Kedra?”
“No,” the girl says. “She is at store three today. May I be of assistance?”
“My name is Relo Kazza. I’m a friend of Jadan Kanzz, and he asked me to deliver a message to Kedraleona.”
“She mentioned him. He caused quite a stir at the boarding house next door to her home. He disappointed her by leaving town without saying good-bye. She should be home in about two hours. Are you aware of where she lives?”
“Yes—Jadan gave me this map. I believe I can find my way. I need to find an inn—I need a place to stay for a couple of days.”
“Go out the door, turn right, go to the second block, and take another right. You will find the hotel about halfway down. You might want to go and check in now. I understand the place fills in a hurry—a shortage of rooms exists in Krest.”
“Thank you,” says Relo as he picks up his pack and leaves.
He finds the inn, checks in, and goes to his room, which is small but comfortable. He places his bag on the bed and turns on the Tello but bores of The Broadcast News in a short time. He remembers passing a small pub on his way. He decides to go for a snack and a beverage. He walks in and is startled by the tables arranged in a semi circle with all the customers sitting on the outside staring in toward the Tello. A heavy discussion is underway. He turns to go when he finds a hand on his shoulder. He spins and stares into Ryner’s eyes.
“What are you doing here?” Relo asks. “I thought you would be on your way home.”
“One of the operators on the Krest to Abydos run is on personal leave. They asked me to cover for him. Quick turns or runs leaving about dawn, I stay on this side of town. I’m aware of a boarding house—” he chuckles. “You found out about…”
“A meeting of some kind is going on?”
“No, but we shirked something interesting on the web during our trip. The pub’s owner recorded the excerpt, and the group finished viewing again for the benefit of those who missed the real event. The presentation is unbelievable.”
“Step outside and tell me what happened—”
Ryner explains in detail the hijacked programming. “This will cause serious ramifications. A demonstration erupted near the main government compound where Supreme Chancellor Jerka’s office suite is located. The protesters carried banners and chanted for an explanation of the transmission. They sent in the troops, and used excessive force to break up the crowd. Fifteen died and another forty or so went to Abydos Medical. They made about one hundred fifty arrests. The Broadcast News reported none of the events, and the chancellor made no statement. The whole thing is being stonewalled.”
Relo must get back, but first he will find Lehad Xeon. He came to find Rue, and now he accelerates his search. “What time is the next train to the Southside?” “A local departs the Mail Express Terminal at the top of every hour.” He checks his timepiece, and Ryner says, “One left, and the next one leaves in fifty-five minutes. Come on in, get something to eat and drink, and take note of the discussion.”
They walk back inside, and a server greets them at the door. Relo orders a chilled herbal tea and some crunchy snacks. He gets a hot Kava, and they sit down and listen in to the conversations under way.
A man who viewed the video says, “I long suspected our politicians are corrupt to the core, but the depth and magnitude of the deception and lavish lifestyles at our expense’s more than I ever imagined.”
Another man raises questions. “Why should we believe the film? You can’t prove the validity. I think someone made the production in one of the movie companies. We all are aware of the air in the Hell Zone, where the mythical Escapades is located, is poison. In addition, those servants—they don’t appear like any people I ever spotted. In my opinion, the whole thing’s a hoax trying to make the government come across as evil.
Another says, “I understand your misgivings, but consider this. Our tariffs are going up—my standard of living’s been going down by about the same rate. What happens to all the script?”
“Yeah, I agree with you. My family and I cut way back to get by. My energy bill tripled, and the government’s explanations don’t pass the odor test. Something is rotten in Abydos.”
The man with suspicions speaks up. “Consider this. The Dome Project is an expensive undertaking. I think the government is afraid the atmospheric spraying won’t continue to work. Urgency exists to get the job completed by the schedule date. A factory on the east side of town makes parts for the project. They went on around the clock production with no days off. They doubled the number of people working. Why would they be spending so much on lavish living if they suspect a catastrophe is coming? The logic doesn’t make sense to me.”
Relo listens with interest, but he cannot engage in a lengthy debate, which solves nothing.
“Let’s be practical about this,” another says. “I studied the architectural drawings of the job site, complete with dimensions. The most the cubic meters of air can sustain is about two thousand people on an ongoing basis, assuming they’re successful at completing a self-sustaining biosphere. What’s the population of Nibiru?”
“Good point,” Ryner says. “The site won’t support the number of people in high-ranking government positions. Who would the survivors be, and how would they be selected?”
He restrains himself until time to go. Should he interject what he detects as fact? He would be unable to get out of the discussion on time. He gets up and bids farewell to Ryner. He stayed longer than he should, and he runs to make the southbound train. He arrives with less than a minute to spare. As he steps inside, the door closes.
The MagnaTranz is moving before he can find a seat. He studies his map and rehearses, in his mind, what he will say to Lehad.
The next stop is his, and he hurries off and is soon standing in front of the Xeon’s house. His anxiety is high, but he is certain what he must do. He walks to the door and presses the chime. He detects footsteps inside walk up to the door and pause. A male voice says, “Yes?”
“Are you Balla Xeon?”
“Who’s asking?”
“My name is Relo Kazza, a student at Abydos University. I’m trying to find Lehad. I believe she’s the sister of a close friend of mine. I lost track of her and would like to find her.”
The door opens, but the man does not invite him in. “I’m he, but my wife’s brother is dead—no sister. I’m afraid you got some bad information. Did you come all the way from Abydos searching for this girl?”
“Yes I did—I must I find her.”
“Well, I would like to help you bu…”
“Okay,” a familiar female voice says from the adjoining room. “Invite him in. I’ll talk to him.”
Balla steps aside, allows him to enter, and points to a door.
He enters and strolls to the room, not knowing what to expect. He stops at the door to a bedroom. Rue is in bed and late term pregnant. “Come in Relo and sit down.” Her voice is tired and strained.
He picks up a straight chair, walks over to the bed, bends down, and kisses her on the cheek. “We’ve been worried sick about you.” He stares at her stomach. “Is the child Jadan’s?”
“I wish—I got into a long-term relationship with a guy whose parents are Annunaki. I became the secret love of his life, but his folks would cut off his allowance for being involved with a Commonuer. I got pregnant, and he began pressuring me to go for an abortion in one of the back-alley shops. I refused, and he left. I thought I ended the matter, but he sent a pair of thugs to persuade me. I decided to disappear. I’m going to deliver and raise the baby, but, as you can tell, I’m having a difficult pregnancy, and the doctor insists I stay in bed. He allows me to be up for one hour at each mealtime, as long as I don’t exert myself.”
“How’re you going to take care of a child? The government finds out. They'll seize the infant for one of the controlled orphan homes.”
“A student at Abydos University, I began to realize I couldn’t make the contributions I want to the resistance movement as an Opaque Sister. The Sister’s position is too restrictive. I did some research and solicited an invitation from another group—one, which doesn’t restrict one’s role based on sex. I got the summons and completed the requirements before I left Abydos. In fact, they arranged my transportation here. They’re also providing the doctor to care for me. Soon as the baby is born, and we’re strong enough, we’re going to live in a safe haven. I’ll work, raise my child, and make my contribution to the resistance. Did you witness the hijacking of The Broadcast News last evening?”
“No, but I got word of the event—”
“My faction did the project,” she says with pride.
“I lost confidence in The Conversant. The fraternity mentality of booze and sex is getting in the way of missions. The infighting is worse, so I requested an invitation from a group, which Dr. Marshon joined—”
Rue’s surprise is evident. “The doctor joined the resistance? He’s an Annunaki.”
“A lot happened since you left. I wish the timing allowed me to bring you up to speed, but I must get back to Abydos in a hurry. Can you tell me the name of your organization?”
“Can you tell me the name of yours?” she asks.
SUPREME CHANCELLOR JERKA’S OFFICE
The door swings open and in storms Raefell Nuggen. He and three others go straight to the office and enter. “Tell me where he is.” He glares at the assistant.
“He didn’t tell me.”
He gazes back inside. “What happened?”
“A little accident...”
“Sit down, men—we’ll wait while this lady finds him for us.” He is cold and committed.
“Let me check down the hall,” she says as she gets up and leaves. She walks at a rapid pace and gazes back to determine if she is being followed. She charges into the reception area of the vice chancellor. “Tell him I must talk to him now,” she says.
“He’s busy.”
“This is urgent—I must meet with him now. Do you understand?”
“One moment—I’ll buzz him.” The aide is annoyed. “Jerka’s personal assistant’s out here, and she’s demanding an audience with you. She says the issue is urgent.” After a brief pause, she lays the communicator on the desk and says with a smirk, “He said for you to come in.”
She walks into the office and closes the door behind her, turns, and realizes five more are in the room.
“What is this about?” the vice chancellor asks with impatience.
She glances about the room and pauses.
“My guests can share anything you say.”
The rude and demeaning treatment she receives agitates her. “Raefell Nuggen and three of his friends are in my office demanding to talk to Supreme Chancellor Jerka. They insist they’ll not leave until they speak to him.”
“They will experience a long wait—won’t they?” He sniggers. “What do you want me to do?” Those in the room laugh with softness, but no one speaks.
The assistant’s temper flares at the dismissive attitude and rudeness. “I guess you can’t do anything. I’m going back to my desk and inform him Jerka dropped dead a few days ago.” She turns and hurries past the aide’s desk and into the hall, slamming the door behind her. She breaks into a run when she recognizes the office door open behind her.
“Wait.” The vice chancellor yells down the corridor.
She does not slow down. Multiple footsteps are running behind her, and they’re gaining on her. As a hand grabs her right shoulder, her left hand turns the doorknob and pushes the door back for Nuggen and his companions to view.
“What’s the meaning of this?” Raefell demands as he gets up and goes towards the door to rescue her.
ABYDOS MEDICAL CENTER, KIA’S ROOM
Dr. Brison came in earlier. He ordered Kia to go for short walks to the nurse’s station and back every three hours. She can now get out of bed and sit in a chair for brief periods. He also arranged for a therapist to come in three times a day to begin muscle-toning exercises.
Jadan and she return from her first walk. Her legs are shaky, and she is leaning on his arm. “I can’t believe how weak I am. Let me rest in this chair for a while.”
“Okay,” he says. “Do you want the Tello on?”
“Yes, I do. I want to find out if anything else is said about the mysterious broadcast.”
He turns on the electrical device. The screen presents a battery of ‘public service announcements promoting a host of products. “Isn’t this about the time the shocker took place yesterday?”
“I think so.”
Kia finished speaking when the screen flickers, and Jadan’s guitet music replaces the bland background. Again, the exhibit changes, and a bright orange display emerges, with a logo, which appears to be the official one of The Broadcasts. To the right, a message shows up above a streaming ticker at the bottom of the partition. The verbiage says, ‘WITNESS YOUR LEADERS WEALTH GROWING-THE DATA IS REAL TIME.’
The next items to appear are the series of ancient star charts showing the approaching globe of antiquity circled in red. A moderator describes the documents. Current images superimpose the original ones, and an arrow points to an object. He informs the audience. High-ranking government officials are aware of the impending planet for several decades. The action shifts to The Inner Dome. The reporter details the machine, promoted as a new-generation power plant for the project is, in reality, a spacecraft designed to take two hundred and two passengers off Nibiru. The destination of the ship is unknown. A slide show of pictures displays engineering drawings illustrating the location of the thrusters, storage compartments for personal items, food, water, and a luxurious series of suites for the occupants.
Next is the financial data of some individuals in the NEX. The information across the bottom continues to stream, showing thousands of script points going into the specified individual’s account since the previous day. The numbers are staggering to most citizens of the planet.
Kia sits speechless as the program progresses. Each time Raefell Nuggen crosses the ticker, she whispers the amount and the increase in disbelief.
Jadan studies Kia’s reaction in silence as she stares at the screen. The Tello sizzles, and the image goes blank. Soon, The Broadcast News reappears. Seconds later, comes a frying sound on the appliance and the rouge transmission restarts. After two full cycles, again, the display blacks out and the regular programming is back. In a few moments, the mystery transmission resumes.
“The officials are trying everything in their power to stop the channel hijacking, but they don’t seem to be having much luck. I will be interested to find out who wins,” he says.
“Last evening’s explanation about the interruption doesn’t add up. Everyone viewing can tell a battle for control is underway. How’ll the officials explain this? Jadan, who do you think is doing this and why?”
“They’re trying to let the general population understand how fraudulent the government is.”
“Do you believe the bureaucracy is to a large extent corrupt?”
“Yes, I do. I witnessed irrefutable confirmation. Kia, you told me yourself the programming was deceptive, scripted, and censored. The Broadcast is under the control of the administration, and they bombard us with propaganda. Lies, if repeated often enough, become accepted as truth—regardless of the facts.”