Chapter_14
“Assessment,” Jules barked after exiting the ship.
“We have totally lost contact with three of the striker crafts, but the forth touched down successfully less than a mile from here,” responded a WOG with a red stripe across the shoulder.
“Any word on what happened to them?” asked Jules.
“Presumed destroyed,” the WOG answered. “An SOS signal was sent moments before contact was lost with each of them.”
“I saw one of the striker crafts consumed by the earth at Pumapunku while a second crashed moments after takeoff,” chimed in another WOG.
Jules understood. Because of the rapidly shifting electromagnetic field, it created an unstable situation whereby flying, let alone landing safely, was almost impossible; their faltering engines had fortuitously provided just enough antigravity to prevent them from crashing.
Under his breath, Jules wished the brave men and women lost at his command a peaceful journey as they became one with the Grand Architect of the Universe, GAOTU.
“Agreed. All three ships must have been destroyed,” Drew interjected, exiting the stratoskimmer, which had landed on top of the rocky landscape. “If the ships were at all intact, we would still be receiving a homing signal pinging from their engines.”
“Drew, any further word on what occurred back at Pumapunku?” Jules asked, presuming the answer.
A flickering holograph appeared above his wrist. “It looks as if the western coasts of Bolivia, Peru, and all of Chile sunk directly into the Pacific.” He looked up at Jules. “The entire west coast of South America is now under water!”
“Be not a cancer on earth,” Jules responded rather smugly.
“I know the Ten Commandments of the Georgian Guidestones,” Drew said, “but this massive loss of humanity is just so senseless.”
“Maintain humanity under 500,000,000,” Jules recited. “The commandments of the New World Order are rather specific in nature.”
Jules walked over to Drew and placed his arm around him while looking at the barren landscape. “Do you know how many people still inhabit this great Earth despite the recent plague and the destruction caused by The Disease and the nanosplicers?” He paused a brief second. “About 4.5 billion. And after the recent mishap here in South America, maybe we’re fortunate enough to have reached the four billion mark.”
Though Drew certainly respected Jules enormously, he could not embrace all The New World Order beliefs. To him, they were much too dogmatic and ideological—and most importantly, they dehumanized the Earth’s population.
“When you think truly about it,” Jules further postulated, “are we not but a cancer on this Earth, spreading indiscriminately and metastasizing all over the globe? Where has humanity not gone that we have not destroyed everything in our path?”
Drew dared not contradict him. Though he agreed with some of Jules’ beliefs, mass human extinction was certainly not a view he wished to entertain.
“Machines do most of the work now, my boy,” Jules commented in triumph. “They have rendered mankind mostly useless. What was once accomplished through sweat and muscle can be done in a fraction of the time and a pittance of the cost with the touch of a button. Machines have made most of humanity obsolete.”
He held his hands wide. “What machines cannot accomplish, the remaining 500,000,000 humans left on the planet will do. Plus, how exquisitely simple will it be to rule over a mere half-billion people inhabiting the globe as opposed to the blistering eight billion that once suffocated our planet?”
Jules patted Drew on the back. “Let us not dawdle any longer in such conversation. Off with you. We must destroy our stratoskimmer and rendezvous with our neighboring striker craft.”
“What?” Drew asked.
“Was I not clear? We must destroy the stratoskimmer. Lord only knows what surprises Alexander has left behind for us in that ship. I, for one, will not be waiting for an answer. You heard me,” he pointed towards the ship. “You have the codes.”
“Should I remove anything first?”
“Leave it as is,” Jules said. “Though I will miss the old girl, what must be done, must be done.”
“How about the shield?” Drew finally mustered up the courage to ask.
“And what about it?” Jules asked with a sly smirk on his face.
“The shield is undoubtedly in Alex’s possession.”
“Absolutely,” Jules responded. “Remember what William Thomas wrote, ‘The situation that men define as true will become true to them.’”
“The truth is Alex has found the shield,” Drew reiterated, not understanding Jules’ point.
“No, my boy,” Jules answered. “What Alexander has found is far from the truth.”
Jules smiled in confidence.
A glow began to shine through his white button-down shirt. Its heat bathed Jules’ chest in warmth, and sent tingles throughout his entire body.
Jules took a deep breath, marveling at its power. He unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt, revealing a shining Achilles Shield replica medallion hanging from his neck.
“Before we say good bye to the old girl, I have one last thing to do,” Jules commented as he tightly embraced the medallion.
The key, Drew thought, impressed at the site.
Though rumored to exist, he never knew for sure its authenticity or whereabouts until now. It was regarded as almost a mythical device the former leader of their company, Albert Rosenberg, had utilized to unlock the entire New Reality computer system, providing him with full and instant control over anything and everything owned, run, or manufactured by the company.
Heat rushed through Jules’ body as his mind connected to The New Reality’s computer systems around the globe. It was as if he were mentally connected with each and every single one of them simultaneously. The boundaries of his mind melted away as his consciousness spread effortlessly between New York, Paris, and Hong Kong. Everywhere The New Reality’s computer tentacles reached, so did his mind. He now had complete control over the global grid.
Jules’ body shuddered as his breathing grew shallow.
“Mr. Windsor?” Drew asked. “Are you alright?”
It almost appeared as if his boss were possessed. Watching his eyes roll back and body stiffen, Drew all but wondered if his head were about to spin.
Before he could ask again, Jules popped out of the trance. A trickle of sweat ran down his brow as he released the Achilles Shield replica. Its glow slowly faded.
As if nothing occurred, Jules touched his ear. “Let’s assemble our team and be off to our sister striker craft.”
“Yes, Mr. Windsor,” a voice echoed in his ear. “Right away.”
He turned to Drew while buttoning his shirt. “Can one of these elite striker crafts float?”
“I’m not sure,” Drew answered. “But I assume these ships were designed only for flight.”
“We may have to find out for ourselves then,” Jules said, almost excited about the prospect.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Drew cautioned. “But the world grid is still too unstable. Let’s wait a little longer for it to stabilize.”
“If it stabilizes,” Jules countered. “The entire grid may in fact do the opposite and become more unstable, nullifying any chance we have of getting out of here. No, we must take flight now and not lose our opportunity.”
“Back to Georgia then?” Drew hoped.
The smile he received in response only let him know that this little expedition had just begun.