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NORTHCENTRAL NEVADA:
At the end of his sermon, Minister Menno Simons stares out over his congregation of two-hundred devout worshipers. Outside the church, over one-hundred more are sitting on the lawn or in chairs, listening to the speakers mounted to the building. All mine to do with as I please, he thinks. Only a handful of the thousands who follow my every command. The incredible sense of power he feels nearly makes him giggle with delight, but as always, he keeps his expression divine.
He looks at his mother, sitting in the front row, her thin, straight hair now gray. How frail she looks. He watches her bring an inhaler to her mouth and take a deep breath. Her asthma is getting bad, and the air pollution throughout the world is only making it worse for her. I hope she lives long enough to see our dream come true.
Elizabeth Simons is the only member of the congregation not hypnotized by her son, even though her sense of pride is nearly overwhelming. From the morning she opened the door and found him lying naked on her porch, she felt the power radiating from his little body. She knew he was destined to be a great leader.
He’s so handsome, she thinks. He doesn’t look fifty-seven. Not a trace of gray shows in his thick blond hair, and his pale skin is still taut over his sharp-boned facial features. His hypnotic gray eyes are still clear and bright; a sharp contrast to his jet-black coat and trousers. She takes a deep breath from her inhaler and sighs with pride.
Menno clasps the fist-sized gold cross hanging from a heavy gold chain around his neck; his signal the sermon is finished. He turns and leaves the pulpit, disappearing through an ornate wooden door behind him.
His private chamber is sparsely furnished, as a constant reminder that he must maintain a humble image, though his wealth is staggering. He sits in a wooden swivel rocking chair behind a plain wooden desk, and leans back, placing his feet on the scarred surface before closing his eyes. The sermons always drain so much of his energy and he needs some time to relax before taking care of business.
He hears a soft rapping at the door, but ignores it. Too soon. The door opens, and Menno looks to see who dares enter without being asked.
When Elizabeth steps into the chamber, she sees the fury in her son’s eyes and leaves the door open. “I’m sorry, but Desmond, Gary, and Peter, have returned. I thought you might want to see them right away.”
The fury fades from Menno’s eyes and he smiles. “Good news, I hope?” he asks in a smooth, baritone voice.
Elizabeth smiles. “I think so.”
She steps back through the doorway. A moment later, three young men step through, closing the door behind them.
Menno gives them a questioning stare, and all three men smile. He clasps his hands together with a sharp clap. “Wonderful! Marvelous! I want to hear all about it.”
Desmond tells his tale about the oil tanker in Washington. “One man was vaporized, the rest of the crew we dropped in the snow on a mountain. That should drive them crazy, trying to figure out how they got there.”
Menno listens to Peter’s story about the Arco tanker in the Gulf of Mexico. “Are there any witnesses?”
A smirk forms on Peter’s lips. “Not anymore.”
Gary Darven hesitates only a second, then explains what happened with the Alaska pipeline. “I didn’t have much time, but everything’s fine.”
Menno stares at Darven for a moment. He caught the hesitation and knows there must be more to it, but is so elated his dream is coming true, he decides not to press him for the moment. “Then it begins,” Menno announces, and clasps the gold cross. The meeting is over.
The three men leave the chamber. A moment later, Elizabeth steps through the door, closing it firmly. She stares at her son. “Well?”
Menno smirks, watches his mother’s smile create more wrinkles on her lined face, and sees her eyes sparkle for the first time in years.
***
Two hours later, Menno and Elizabeth arrive at his private research facility, twenty-miles south of town. They step out of the limousine, enter the two-story cement building, and walk to his office.
A few minutes later, the director of the facility enters and Menno smiles as he grabs the frail looking man by the shoulders. “It’s started! They did exactly what I expected, Gerard. Well done.”
Gerard smiles. “Thank you. The genetic engineers will be pleased. Your instructions were pure genius. You should make millions selling these to the oil companies.”
Menno’s smile fades. “I already have millions, Gerard. I will not tell anyone about this discovery.”
Gerard is puzzled. “I thought you wanted these to clean up the pollution?”
“Oh, I do, but not that way. I have a much broader plan.”
Gerard isn’t sure what his boss is getting at, but lets it drop for the moment. He reaches into his coat pocket and brings out a round, flat crystal, about the size of a silver dollar. “When can we experiment with these?”
Menno stares at the crystal, then looks into Gerard’s eyes. “Not until I’ve proven my point to the world. In the meantime, I’m shutting down this facility. We have enough to do what I want done.”
Gerard is shocked. “But we have no idea what these are! We have to . . .”
Menno grabs the gold cross, and Gerard instantly stops his protest. “I know what they are. You may go.”
Gerard hesitates for a moment, then leaves the office.
Menno smiles at his mother. “This is it! I will gather my followers in three days and put an end to the pollution.” Menno is puzzled when Elizabeth doesn’t smile back.
“What about the director and his engineers?” she asks. “If they tell anyone, the government will try to stop you.”
Menno smirks. “Don’t worry. Come. We must leave.”
***
Gerard returns to his office and stares at the crystal while he thinks about what Menno said. It’s wrong, not telling the world what we’ve created. If Menno doesn’t want the fortune they can make from selling this new technology, why shouldn’t he have it? What about these crystals? They could be worth something, too.
Gerard looks up at the wall safe. All the information about their research is on the flash drive. He can take it to another company and make millions of dollars. He walks to the safe, dials in the combination for the door, and grabs the electronic storage devices. To hell with Menno, that religious fanatic. I want to be rich!
***
At that same moment, the limousine is about ten miles away, and Menno instructs the driver to stop. Menno grabs the phone and steps out of the limousine. “Come, Mother,” he says and helps her out.
Menno points back the way they came and enters a number into the phone. A brilliant flash appears in the distance, and a few moments later, they hear a muffled explosion as a huge cloud of dust soars into the air above the flash.
Menno smiles. “I don’t think we’ll be bothered by the government, Mother.” He helps her into the limousine.