Chapter_27
Jules sat impatiently in the copilot’s chair, watching a holographic image of the world grid on the ship’s windshield. Rapidly changing numbers and symbols surrounded the representation.
“Let’s go,” Jules insisted.
Half asleep, the pilot could not keep his eyes open any longer. After such a stressful day and now cooped up in a dark cabin of a striker craft in geosynchronous orbit over Philadelphia for over an hour, he could no longer stay awake.
Jules, however, needed little sleep. His body seemed to thrive on excitement. Awake the entire time, he had been watching the fluctuations in the grid as ardently as one would their favorite sporting event.
“This is no time for sleep, my boy,” Jules chimed in, full of life. “We must seize this opportunity before it’s lost. The grid has remained stable over this point for God knows how long now. I think waiting any longer would be most counterproductive.”
“Yes, sir,” the pilot said. Wiping his eyes, he turned on the lights in the cabin and took control of the ship’s steering wheel. Its lights erupted upon his touch as he brought the striker craft out of orbit.
“What?” Drew asked. Awoken by the commotion, he looked out the dark windshield towards the Earth below them. What would have once been littered with millions of dots of light, now only boasted a mere pittance of its former luminosity. Much of the entire East Coast was dark, while the western portion of the country fared not much better.
Drew shook his head at the sight. He could only imagine what the people on the surface must have experienced between the seismic activity and the electromagnetic instability.
“You say this is where the subatomic fluctuations ended?” Jules asked.
“Yes, Mr. Windsor,” Drew answered. “The signal terminated precisely at the coordinates I provided.”
Jules surmised that Alex’s smaller aero-bike must have rendezvoused there with the larger and stealthier stratoskimmer, making any further quantum fluctuation undetectable.
But was there something significant about this place?
Luckily, as the striker craft descended into the innermost layers of the atmosphere, the ride went extremely smoothly. With no perturbations in the grid, at least for the moment, it felt as if they were gliding on ice.
Drew examined the holographic image above his wrist. “Set the ship down right on that mound,” he pointed. “That spot right there.”
After landing, Jules stood up and checked the pockets in his leather sports jacket. Fully equipped, he felt prepared for whatever awaited them outside the ship.
“What’s the recon say?” Jules asked the pilot.
“The entire area within a 500-yard perimeter is totally barren except for one human quantum signal about twenty yards directly ahead, sir.”
“Very good. Let’s shed some light on the situation,” Jules said.
“Yes, sir,” the pilot answered, pushing a button on the steering wheel.
Light began to emanate out from the striker craft in all directions, illuminating the area.
Jules walked back to the ship’s hull. The WOGs all sat at attention. The red light blinking in the ceiling indicated imminent deployment.
“Colonel,” Jules ordered. “Deploy and secure this mound.”
“Yes, sir!” he bellowed as his voice echoed through the hull. Pointing at the door, he barked, “Omega formation, go!”
As the door descended to the ground, the WOGs barreled out of the ship in silence. In a hunched position with their weapons drawn, their departure was quick and efficient. Within less than a minute the colonel reported back to Jules in his auricular chip, “Secure!”
Jules walked down the steps and onto a distorted layer of debris. The entire site was in ruins except for the remnants of a few pillars and the broken frames of a couple doorways. As he looked out into the city, it was almost completely dark. Only a few flashlights and the smoldering remains of earlier fires shed any light onto the area.
Despite, the poor visibility, Jules noted the broken skyline along the horizon and could only imagine the destruction that must have recently engulfed the city.
A man with his hands behind his head and two guns pointed to his back approached.
“We found him here,” one of the helmeted WOGs accompanying him blurted.
“Good man?” Jules asked the stranger as if speaking to a friend. “Please tell me who you are and what you are doing up here on this hilltop all alone.”
“My name is Murphy O’Neil,” he responded. Upon raising his head, he recognized Jules. “And you are Jules Windsor, the President of The New Reality.”
Murph was certainly excited at the site. His only thought now was that help had finally arrived. Despite the violence caused by Jules’ Open Society policies and the recent seismic turmoil, most citizens were misinformed by The New Reality’s controlled media about the true nature of the situation. Few blamed Jules for their current troubles and instead believed the narrative set forth by The New Reality: The problems now faced by mankind were a direct result of Jules’ predecessor and her previous disastrous policies.
An uninformed, ignorant populace was exactly what Jules and his Open Society needed for its existence. Just like one of the many tenants set forth by the Illuminati handbook, Jules knew that if he could control the information distributed to the populace, he could control their minds.
“Thank you, Mr. Windsor, for coming to help,” Murph went on to say. “My friends and I were trapped in the museum here, and then this enormous earthquake destroyed the city. I’m the only one still left up here on the hill.”
Such a simple mind, Jules thought. So easily manipulated.
“Please,” Jules kindly asked, “lower your weapons. Our friend Murphy here is in need of a helping hand—not a manhandling.”
The WOGs complied with the order. However, a message from the colonel echoed in Jules’ ear, “We have a lock on him just in case.”
“Very good,” Jules responded to the colonel as if thanking the WOGs. “Now, Murphy, what pray tell, happened here?”
“Thank you, Mr. Windsor,” Murphy said. “It was awful. A massive earthquake killed all my friends and destroyed the city.” He paused for a few seconds to compose himself. “However, I discovered something that you might find interesting. At least the other people who left here earlier today did.”
“Other people?” Jules asked nonchalantly.
“Yea,” he said rather gruffly. “These other people showed up out of nowhere just like you. Fortunately, one of them was a doctor or something and helped my friend Christine after she passed out.” He pointed to the edge of the rubble. “And they all seemed interested in the crystals I found in the cave over there, saying they would come back later to have a better look at them.”
“Alex Pella, sir?” Drew concluded.
Murph pointed his finger at Drew. “Yea. That was one of the guy’s names.”
“Was it just the two of them?” Jules asked.
“No. There was also this husky guy wearing a red hat along with some girl with long hair and a battered white dress. If you ask me, they all looked like they were in some sort of earthquake themselves.”
“Well then, Murphy.” Jules asked. “Do you happen to know where they all went? Because of the poor reception, I lost contact with mostly everyone here in this grand city.”
“No clue,” Murph responded. “I wish they would have waited a little longer before taking off in their stratoskimmer. If they thought the crystals were interesting, they would have been really impressed with what happened next in the cave.” He again pointed to the edge of the debris. “You gotta see it.”
“Please,” Jules kindly obliged, “lead the way Murphy. I must personally see what has gleaned your utmost attention.”
Murph scuttled through the debris to the edge where it fell sharply down an incline. A dim light emitted from the cave, helping Jules, Drew, Murph, and a few WOGs to negotiate their way into it and down the stairs.
“You ain’t seen nothing yet,” Murphy noted as Jules and Drew admired the maps along the walls. “He then turned to each of them. “And watch what you’re thinking down here. It’s like this cave is magical; we can read each other’s minds.” He then pointed at the blaring flashlights on the ends of the WOGs guns. “I’d put those down. Nothing electrical works in this cave.”
“You heard the man,” Jules ordered.
The WOGs complied as the group entered the ancient hall of records.
Reminds me of Pumapunku, Jules thought, admiring the area.
“Look at this,” Murphy eagerly gestured to the ceiling. “It didn’t appear until everyone left.”
“What is it?” Drew looked up and asked.
“It looks like some sort of ancient treasure map,” Murph concluded.