Chapter_2
A string quartet consisting of two violinists, one viola player, and a cellist, all dressed in Renaissance-era tuxedos, played a tune from one of Jules Windsor’s favorite composers, Cesar Frank. The song, “Panis Angelicus,” soothed his mind, and never an event went by without its performance.
Aboard his massively large and equally expensive yacht, fittingly named The Caligula, Jules enjoyed the music and soaked in each harmonious note. He drew great inspiration from the song and breathed in deeply so that he could not only hear but also feel the notes.
“Jules,” interjected an older woman donning a luxurious, tight-fitting hazel dress that flowed out as it grazed along the floor. “My, you did not disappoint tonight.”
Though in her late sixties, she could easily be mistaken for someone half her age. With a combination of plastic surgery and selected genetic manipulation, the woman’s appearance certainly did not mirror her chronological clock. Only a few wrinkles on her eyelids and elbows allowed Jules to astutely guess her age. As one of his more robust financial partners over the years, Elizabeth proved not only beautiful but also cunning in the cutthroat business world.
“Enjoy,” Jules responded with a sophisticated English accent. “My dear, this little get together is for you all in thanks for what we have accomplished since I took control of The New Reality.”
Elizabeth grabbed Jules by the lapel on his black pinstripe double-breasted suit. She found his power and intellectual prowess intensely attractive. Just above six feet tall with wavy blond hair and an athletic physique, Jules’ aesthetic quality was also not lost on her. Though he was almost twenty-five years her younger, Elizabeth did not find the age disparity at all daunting—after all, she had experience on her side.
A waiter with glasses of champagne approached the two of them.
“May I?” Jules said as he took two glasses, handing one to Elizabeth.
Though he dearly enjoyed Elizabeth’s company and her business acumen, he definitely had no interest in escalating their relationship. He had a firm belief that business partners and bed partners should be completely separate. Plus, with a veritable harem of woman at his disposal, there seemed no need to take on the complications that would inevitably follow any real romantic relationship.
Jules looked out the port window onto a sister yacht known as The Billion, owned by the former French financial minister. Because of The Caligula’s magnetic stabilizers, it felt as if they were gliding on ice, despite the slightly choppy Atlantic waters below them. Looking at the reflections in the glass, he took note of everyone in the room, not forgetting faces nor to whom they were speaking. He momentarily watched as they enjoyed the generous supply of alcohol pouring out from the four well-stocked bars around the room and partook in the seemingly endless amounts of food.
He watched in the reflection as the former Chancellor of Germany approached him from behind. Though nearly equal to Jules in height, the man appeared to be as wide as he was tall.
“Your uncle would be proud,” Helmut sputtered in a jovial, deep voice. With crumbs of food in his grey beard and a jolly tenor to his voice, he continued with only the slightest of German accents, “The New Reality has far surpassed anything Albert Rosenberg would have ever imagined.”
Helmut held up his glass of champagne. “Here’s to you and the further success of The New Reality!”
They clinked their long fluted glasses and savored the drink. “Well done,” Helmut reiterated after finishing the entire glass of champagne. “Well done. You are one hell of a businessman!” With a mighty laugh, he grabbed another glass of champagne from a passing waitress and began drinking immediately.
Jules cringed at the compliment. Though in agreement about the success of The New Reality, he would much rather be thought of as a philosopher or even a philanthropist. He had studied the great works of Plato and Aristotle along with countless other classical thinkers. He also poured over the writings of Marx, Buddha, and even Pope John Paul II.
However, Jules’ greatest influence was from Karl Popper. Through Popper’s works such as The Open Society and its Enemies, Jules created the modern-day version of the man’s nineteenth century vision. Unlike the former leader of The New Reality, Myra Keres, who ruled the world with an iron fist, Jules was able to accomplish the same results with a fraction of the cost and manpower. Instead of the company having to constantly patrol the masses, the masses now patrolled themselves.
As people self-segregated into smaller and more militant groups in order to have their own beliefs and ideas be heard, they fought vehemently amongst themselves to improve their financial, social, and political positions. Instead of making any real change in the system that ruled over them, they bickered for the mere crumbs left to them.
“On that note,” Helmut went on to say with a slightly more boisterous tone, “I think I see a few more chafing dishes calling my name.” He patted Jules on the back before departing.
Elizabeth looked over at him as they both sipped from their glasses.
“You don’t like him, do you?” she questioned.
“My dear,” Jules responded matter-of-factly, “whether I like or dislike him is rather irrelevant. It would be juvenile of me to conduct my daily business based upon the whim of my emotions. Helmut is a financial business asset whose worth to The New Reality is far more than most aboard this ship.”
Raising a quizzical eyebrow, Elizabeth asked, “But do you respect him?”
“As a business man, yes. However, one must never forget how he sold out his country in order to bring them under the governance of The New Reality. If you recall, he willingly bankrupted Germany so that my dear old uncle Albert Rosenberg could usurp their sovereignty through a mere financial loophole.”
Jules smiled, thinking of the utter brilliance of his uncle to not only finally take control of The New Reality but also to conquer the entire planet, without a single shot ever being fired.
“Your uncle was a remarkable man,” Elizabeth added, knowing what was running through Jules’ mind.
Jules turned to Elizabeth. “He certainly was. In a way, he was like a father to me. Though far from a loving or nurturing man, he provided me with more than a mere hug or a simple pat on the head. What he taught me, dear Elizabeth, was how to think.”
The boat suddenly tilted, sending a few people and chafing dishes to the floor. Elizabeth accidentally fell into Jules’ arms.
“Why Jules,” she hinted, “I thought you would never ask.”
Jules’ company laughed at the incident as if they were on some amusement ride. With so much liquor and food in them, Jules realized that even if the boat sunk, they would still be amused.
“Tried to save some money on cheap stabilizers, Jules?” jested one of the guests, wiping some food off his lapel.
The poke provided all with a mighty laugh.
Despite their enjoyment, Jules knew such a sudden movement of The Caligula was more than a whimsical mechanical failure. With redundant stabilizing systems including two magnetic dipole oscillators, such an event should not have occurred.
After a brief interlude, the string quartet began to play as if nothing had transpired.
Still holding Elizabeth, Jules noticed the approach of one of the ship’s crewmen wearing a white tuxedo with a black hat bearing The New Reality emblem.
“Sir,” the man politely said, tipping his hat in the process. “Your presence is requested below deck.”
“My dear,” Jules said, looking at Elizabeth, “we shall continue this lovely conversation at a more auspicious time. As always, business before pleasure.”
“Promise?” Elizabeth smirked.
Following the crewman below deck, Jules was lead into a circular room with a blackened ceiling. A New Reality emblem was etched into the center of the marble floor, and a golden three-foot pedestal emerged from it.
“If you need anything, sir…” the crewman said, leaving the room. The door behind him materialized into dark mahogany paneling that matched the rest of the wall circling the room.
Jules walked up to the pillar and placed his hand solidly atop it. Upon his touch, the stark interior of the room transformed holographically into an entire scientific laboratory. Shelves piled with different mechanical devices, wires, computer chips, and electrical coils filled the area.
“Mr. Windsor,” blurted a middle aged, thin man with thick black curly hair down to his neck and a neatly trimmed dark beard. “There is a problem. The shield. The magnetic dipoles. The grid.”
“Drew,” Jules said in his most calm voice, “take your hands out of your lab coat and breath in deeply and slowly. I can only assume this is not a social call and may have something to do with what I just experienced here out at sea.”
Surprised that it was not the captain of the ship or the Atlantic Nautical Advisor beckoning his presence, he let the man speak. Before doing so, Jules took a few steps backwards as Drew’s holograph was uncomfortably close to where he was standing.
“We are disrupting the entire world grid,” Drew slowly responded after recouping his thoughts. “This experiment is having unintended consequences.”
“Slow down, my boy,” Jules insisted. “You must explain yourself better than that.”
Trying to speak with one thought in mind, Drew gestured to a holographic globe that appeared next to him. Above the planet ran flowing silver lines much like those of a longitudinal and latitudinal grid. However, these lines intersected in such a way that it created a grid composed of triangles encircling the Earth.
“The world grid,” Drew explained with a little more confidence, “is composed of these lines of electromagnetic energy that flow around the entire planet and are generated by the Earth itself.” He continued emphatically, “Remember, the Earth was created by gravity, energy, and magnetism. When the quadrillion particles of microscopic vibrating dust and gas coalesced and packed to form the planet, the inherent energy in them was never lost but instead transformed into mechanical, electric, nuclear, magnetic and chemical equivalents. Our planet is a living entity, exuding energy from the very first day it was created.”
Jules was quick to understand the implication. “So as chaos theory postulates, out of this complex energetic system, a natural order will evolve. And what I see presented before me is that end result.”
“Exactly,” Drew responded, not surprised by how quickly Jules understood the topic.
Gesturing to his left, Drew pointed to a clear rectangular case surrounding a shield levitating in the air.
Jules had no doubt the shield was exactly where the conversation headed. As part of his late uncle’s prized ancient Greek military collection, the shield once stood as the centerpiece amongst a litany of priceless artifacts. However, Jules knew this famed historical vestige, known as Achilles Shield, was not an ordinary relic. Its historical and scientific significance went far beyond what was once believed. And once he came into possession of it, Jules was determined to unlock its ancient secrets. He feared that if he did not do so, another contender for his rightful place at the helm of The New Reality would.
Plus, if there were other artifacts harboring such unknown scientific potential, what would a possible threat to The New Reality do with such power? Such a thought was completely unacceptable to him. After almost a year of his scientific team diligently working on an answer, he was getting frustrated with the lack of results.
The aesthetic beauty of this artifact was not lost on Jules. The sun surrounded by the Earth, moon, and a few constellations were engraved in the center of the silver-plated shield. Then, like layers of an onion, different gloriously- sculpted scenes encircled this central point. A city at peace lay above the sun and constellations, while a city at war was depicted below it. Surrounding these scenes were three separate engravings of men reaping bushels of corn from a king’s estate, workers plowing a field, and young girls picking grapes along a bountiful vineyard. In the following layer, a bull being ripped apart by two lions was engraved prominently at the top while two more pleasant engravings of sheep grazing and young men and women dancing framed each of its lower sides. At its outmost edge, a flowing ocean encircled the inner scenes. A rusted strip of metal wrapped tightly around the edge secured its perimeter.
“As we continue to fluctuate and intensify different electromagnetic fields around the shield,” Drew continued to explain, “it is directly affecting the grid.” He looked at Jules. “Plus, it’s affecting it in a most unpredictable and, may I say, chaotic way. This is why there has been increased seismic activity all around the globe. This is why your ship momentarily lost stability. I saw the grid shift above you and at another hundred spots all along the globe.”
Undeterred by the setback Jules asked, “So what have we learned from this little experiment? I’m not financing you and your team to give me a scientific lecture. My boy, I need results.”
Exasperated, Drew responded, “I learned that you were still alive. When I discovered the location of your yacht, I called her captain immediately to see if it had capsized. I also learned that we must stop this experiment until I obtain a better understanding of the shield.”
Jules was unamused and became more impatient. “There is obviously an awesome power connected to this artifact that we have yet to understand. If you can alter the nature of the Earth’s grid by simply tampering with its electromagnetic field, imagine what someone not inclined to embrace the Open Society would do with such power. What if there are other relics out there at this moment that can do the exact same thing or maybe even worse?”
Jules held up his finger. “No. No. Discontinuing this project is certainly not acceptable and will not be tolerated. If you are not up to the challenge, I will accept your resignation immediately.”
“Mr. Windsor,” Drew gulped, “that is not what I was implying. We just need to do more research.”
“Well, then,” Jules smiled, “we are in total agreement. If that means fluctuating or increasing the electromagnetic field around the shield, do so. Find out how it works and how to control it.”
Content with his orders, Jules stood proudly, undaunted by its potential implications. As a proponent of the Illuminati and New World Order theory, he understood the planet to be far too overpopulated; humanity was by no means living in harmony with the Earth. With billions of people assaulting her surface, thinning the herd was the only solution.
“But you are exactly where one of the last disturbances hit,” Drew said sheepishly. “Shall I wait until you are in a safer place before I continue?”
“Chaos gives us no safe place,” Jules said brashly. “My reputed safe place may be the most unsafe place of them all. I’ll take my chances.”
“Yes, sir,” Drew capitulated.
Jules ended the transmission as the room returned to its natural décor. After straightening out his jacket, he walked out of the room with the door dematerializing in front of him. To his delight, the party on the entertainment deck had only grown more rowdy.
“One scotch,” Jules said, pulling up a seat on one of the deck’s many bars.
“Make that a double for him,” cajoled the man sitting next to him.
Obviously intoxicated from one too many drinks already, the man downed a huge shot of whisky as if he were in a fraternity drinking contest. Jules recognized him as one of the founding partners of the European National Bank. He also recalled how wealthy he and his bank became with the financial collapse of the world’s governments. Overnight they earned the equivalent of more than twenty trillion American dollars.
Not one to miss out on some levity, Jules said, “And divvy up my friend here another shot of whisky. He’s seems a little too shy to ask for it himself.”
Before either of them had a chance to enjoy their drink, the boat jerked wildly to the left as a massive wave hit the starboard side, obscuring the view out the window. Jules fell to the floor, rolling defensively so as to not be injured. Fortunately, his years of MMA training and constant exercising had kept him limber.
Most of the passengers on the deck did not have the same coordination. Already stuffed to the point of popping or too drunk to walk a straight line on stable ground, they tumbled like dominoes, knocking down everything in their path.
Moans replaced the laughter. Cries for help instead of music harmonized throughout the room.
Jules felt no pity for any of them. Bloated blokes, he thought. Too fat on self-indulgence to keep a clear mind and body. Plus, in truth, he didn’t actually need any of them. Though their business collaborations had been fruitful, another one of their associates would eventually take their place, and it would be business as usual.
Another wave pummeled the port side of the yacht, throwing them all to the other side of the deck. Jules rolled and slid on his feet to stabilize himself. Dodging a few passengers and tables in the process, he managed to position himself in a neutral crouched stance.
I hope Drew is discerning some valuable information, Jules thought. If he’s putting me through this bedlam, I indeed expect some answers.
As Jules looked up to assess the damage, he thought another wave was about to hit the ship along her bow. However, it was moving too slowly and the closer it came, the more vivid it appeared. Just as it was about to strike, Jules was able to discern two large words written along its side: The Billion.
The two yachts collided with a tremendous bang. Glass spewed along the entertainment deck causing water and wind to pelt the passengers through open windows. The cries of agony intensified after the impact.
The Caligula began to lean to its port side and slowly sink into the water. Red lights and sirens blared.
“Abandon ship,” the captain announced. “Abandon ship. Head to the nearest safety pod.”
The instructions replayed on a recorded loop.
“Grab the crew,” Jules said softly to the captain as he touched the auricular chip in his left ear, “and bring them to the stratoskimmer above deck.”
“I must insist that you get to the nearest safety pod,” responded the captain as his voiced echoed in Jules’ ear.
“Do as I say,” Jules commanded.
He knew the safety pods would be useless in such a crisis; if he dared enter one of them, it would prove to be his coffin.
Jules got to his feet and began running to the front of the ship as the fellow passengers who were able to still walk headed for the stairs in the opposite direction. Along the way, he saw one of his crewmen stuck under a monstrous wooden table. Wind and rain pelted him in the face. Unable to open his eyes, he flailed helplessly to free himself.
The ship creaked as The Billion wedged itself further into his yacht.
Grabbing the table, Jules agonizingly slid the behemoth furniture by himself off the yacht’s first mate and grabbed him by the hand. The crewman staggered to his feet with Jules’ assistance. Though his right leg appeared either broken or dislocated at the hip, the sailor managed to remain standing.
Jules turned his head as salt water sprayed into his face, feeling as if a thousand pins were simultaneously stuck into his eyes. The sensation was crippling and almost brought him to his knees. Realizing he couldn’t stay blind to the chaos around him, Jules forced his eyes open, regaining his vision. Everything was initially red and blurred. As things came into focus he noted Elizabeth lying next to him on the ground. Blood oozed from her mouth as a large shard of glass protruded from her back. Her once elegant dress was now blood soaked, wet, and tattered.
Good by old friend, Jules thought without remorse.
“Let’s go,” he then insisted to the first mate as he guided him forward to the steps.
“I can’t see!” the man hollered as water pelted his eyes.
“Big steps. Move forward,” Jules instructed while attempting to deflect with his arm some of the salty water away from his eyes.
The ship began to tip further as the two finally made their way to the stairs. It was a welcome feeling to be in an enclosure, momentarily away from the relentless elements.
“Up the stairs,” Jules asserted. “No time to dilly dally!”
The two maneuvered up the tilted steps, slowly making it above deck where they were greeted in full force by the elements. It felt as if they were stuck in a hurricane. The wind and rain instantly knocked over the first mate who collapsed on his injured leg. Jules put his arm under him and pulled him back to his feet.
As the two staggered along the increasingly-tilted deck, the outline of his prized stratoskimmer came clearly into view. It was a long, oval-shaped ship with two large cylindrical engines in the rear and a curved tail fin running the length of the vehicle. The New Reality insignia emblazoned along its length completed the look.
The captain of the yacht stood at the bottom of its stairs waving them over to him. “Mr. Windsor, we’re waiting for you to depart.”
A few crewmen staggered up the steps and into the stratoskimmer, pulling themselves up on the railing.
“How many crewmen are left on the ship?” Jules shouted through the howling winds.
“We’ve got about fourteen on board the stratoskimmer already,” shouted the captain, “and another twenty opted for safety pods.”
Imbeciles, Jules lamented.
“That leaves fifteen still unaccounted for,” continued the captain as he held onto the steps while looking at a blurry holographic image of the ship displayed before him.
Reaching the stratoskimmer, Jules asked, “Where are they?”
“It looks like eight are heading up here right now, another two are working their way to the safety pods, while the last five are not moving anywhere.” He looked over to Jules. “Presumed dead or injured.”
Grabbing the captain by the arm, Jules pushed him and the first mate up the stairs. “But I insist!” yelled the captain. “I must be the last one to leave.”
“This is my ship, and you are my crew,” Jules commanded, pointing to the stairs.
The captain capitulated, helping his injured first mate into the cabin.
“Wait!” cried two crewmen from behind Jules. Though he could barely discern their voices, he could almost feel the terror in their cries.
Jules yelled up to the captain who was standing at the stratoskimmer’s entrance, “Tell the pilot not to leave until I say so!” He looked over to his crewmen fighting the elements to reach the stratoskimmer and spurred them on. “Faster! We need everyone aboard.”
A loud creek began to drown out the roar of Mother Nature. In response, the ship began to tilt at an even more precarious angle until standing became problematic. Jules held on to the stratoskimmer’s railing as the vehicle began to slide down the deck.
The more quickly it slid, the more precarious Jules’ grip on the railing became.
The captain flew over Jules’ head, crashing down into the water. His screams were drowned out by the waves pummeling the ship’s deck. Jules knew that without a life preserver, he would last less than a minute in such violent waters.
A few other crewmembers scrambling to get to the stratoskimmer followed overboard as they, too, crashed helplessly into the water.
“Throw them a life vest,” Jules attempted to say as a wave pummeled his body. It was as if someone dropped a ton of bricks straight onto his chest, knocking the wind out of him in the process.
Jules tried to regain his bearing as his tenuous grip on the railing started to fail. He coughed up water, trying to take a breath of air without choking. His eyes burned from the salty water; with the loud commotion surrounding him from every direction, he felt lost and confused.
As Jules attempted to pull himself up on the railing, he lost his grip and plunged into the cold ocean. Beaten by a tremendous gush of wind, he was now at Mother Nature’s mercy. The stratoskimmer followed suit, sliding off the deck as The Caligula continue to sink.
The sea roared and rose up in great fury.
Struggling to surface, Jules’ endeavors were met by the crashing of his prized stratoskimmer into the water above him. Trapped, and without means to escape, the unrelenting sensation of drowning began to overtake him.