Seek Him What Made Them Seven Stars
Waddie
Greywolf
Chapter 92
May I for my own self song’s truth reckon, journey’s jargon,
how I in harsh days hardship endured oft. Bitter breast-cares
have I abided, known on my keel many a care’s hold, and dire
sea-surge, and there I oft spent. That he on dry land
loveliest liveth, list how I, care-wretched, on ice-cold sea,
deprived of my kinsmen; over the whale’s acre, would wander
wide eager and ready, the crying lone-flyer, whets for the
whale-path the heart irresistibly. ~ The Seafarer by Ezra
Pound
“Are you ready, Brother?” Bubba asked Billy after the Colonel and
Bart left with Bryan Isobel for Houston.
“Ready for what, Brother?” Billy looked at Bubba and then a flash
of realization came across his face, “Oh, fuck! It's next Friday,
ain't it?” Billy asked.
“'At's right. Dang near six hundred slightly used, refurbished
Cowboy-Angels will be here – to say nothing of a thousand more
Irin-Grigori cattle will automatically appear on our land. We knew
you weren't gonna' be ready what with the extra shit you got going
– try'n to be leader of the band and Mother Teresa to the infirm
and out-of-sync bodies you been correcting and collecting. I done
begged you and begged you to come on over to our ranch, see what
we got done, and get your approval; but, you ain't. In case you
don't remember, you go out chore' front gate, hang a left, and
it's the first gate you come to on your right about a mile and a
half down the road. It's within walk'n distance, Brother. Hell, I
can chunk a rock 'at far,” Bubba hyperbolized to make a strong
point.
“I know, I know! I ain't got me no good excuse, Bubba, and I
apologize, Brother. However, in a way, I'm glad I stayed away. I
didn't want you getting the idea I was looking over your shoulder
or trying to tell you what to do. This way, you done it on your
own, and it's something you'll be proud of. If'n you ain't, then
it's your own damn fault. I ain't never questioned an expenditure
you requested. I choked on the size of a couple, grabbed my Sara
Coventry beads for comfort, and it took me a few minutes breathing
some oxygen to recover, but I rubber-stamped it and told you to
run with it. Besides, if it weren't good, I would have got
negative feedback from Enoch and Moss, and they ain't said nary a
word but to grin real big, roll their eyes, and encourage me to
see for myself. They ain't given me no clues about what you been
doing over there, but they must be pleased, they grin, smile a
lot, and shake their heads in disbelief. I'll cancel everything
for this morning. Let's us go on down 'nere and git'er done,”
Billy said, “Where's your posse this morning?” Billy asked.
“Grover and Jack are looking for a building in town with enough
room to combine their law offices and start the Grange Public
Advocate Ombudsman's service for which you agreed to hire them and
a staff consisting of several of your recent family members what
aced the last Texas bar exam. If they can find a place, they plan
to open their doors in one week – the first of August – weather
permitting,” Bubba replied.
“Yeah, you'd think them tropical storms in the Gulf would be over
by now. It's a little late in the season, but since the planet's
getting warmer, nothing would surprise me anymore. I heard they's
a new, large tropical storm building down around Trinidad. We been
fortunate we've had good weather almost every weekend for several
months, but we just may have to cancel our concert next weekend,”
Billy said.
“Your concert hall and auditorium is almost finished in Blue-City.
You may not be ready for crowds, but it could handle your family
right-nicely as it is,” Bubba said.
“Ain't thought about it, but you're right, Big Bro. We done
ordered and paid for the organ. It's being built, but they won't
be able to start installation for several months. They said it's
one of their most ambitious projects, and they're looking forward
to the publicity they'll get from the dedication concerts we got
planned. We're trying to gather a handful of topnotch organist
from around the world to play for us,” Billy said.
Billy invited his posse of Nick, Boomer, his Uncle Nate, Tron,
Moss, and Enoch to accompany him. They walked through a gate and
arrived in Bubba's old barn – but, it didn't look old anymore. It
was completely refurbished with numerous repairs, a new roof, and
a new coat of paint. It looked clean as a surgery. They exited the
gate into what looked like a back room added on to the back of the
barn, and there seemed to be cowboys working in the huge barn.
There were four work-bays on each side of the barn where trucks,
autos, and farm vehicles were being worked on by a large crew of
men in dark blue coveralls with their names on the front and a
white sign on the back what read: Hill Country ~ Highland Shire
Automotive Engineers.
The work areas were well organized and neat as a pin. It was well
thought-out and looked like it was fully functional and had been
for sometime. Everyone stopped what they were doing to gather and
greet Bubba and Master Billy. “Holy shit, Bubba! This is
fantastic. How long you men be up and running?” Billy asked.
Bubba nodded to his shop foreman to answer for him, “The end of
this week will be two months, sir?” the lead cowboy-mechanic, Dan,
replied proudly.
“Have you made yourself available to the folks in town?” Billy
asked.
“Naw, sir, we got all the work we can do right now re-outfitting
Grange member's trucks, auto, and farm equipment with them
wonderful power units Archie and Edith make for us. They made
several different sizes for prototypes and our gracious Shedus,
Sir Beauford and Madame Spartza, mass produce them for us. We
don't keep many around here in case of a sudden surprise-visit by
outsiders what don't need to know what we're doing,” the lead
mechanic, Abe, explained.
“You're installing Sterling engines?” Billy asked.
“On smaller passenger vehicles and trucks under a half-ton. The
larger trucks and farm equipment we're installing hydrogen
engines. Master Bubba, with Archie, Edith, his aunt's team of
engineers, and a couple of gifted Irin cowboys, developed a method
of splitting water molecules into their component parts, oxygen
and hydrogen, and recombining them to use both to get the most
bang for the buck. We're getting a hundred miles per gallon of
water on the larger trucks and two hundred on the lighter weight
vehicles. Other than moving parts, we're practically oil free, and
the lubricants we use are much lighter weight and are more organic
friendly than oils of fossil origins,” Abe explained
further.
“This is amazing, Gentlemen. I'm thoroughly impressed. I hope we
can keep these things under-wraps until it comes time to reveal
our improvements to the world,” Billy complimented them and
expressed his fear of having corporate power come down on top of
them or try to stop their production and steal their inventions.
“So far, those with whom we have contracted, understand the
circumstances and are adamant as we are about not sharing the
information until we're ready. We want to be throughout the state
by means of the Granges. As you know, we're getting many
application from other rural areas to start their own Granges as
auxiliary organizations. They want to become a part of our Grange.
We don't plan to grow faster than by word of mouth, and they will
be approved by vote. We're beginning to set up rules and rituals
to keep things from the general public as long as we possibly can.
If the Masons got away with it for centuries, we should be able to
keep our secrets for a while. Of course it will depend on how
everything else in our world plays out,” Bubba said.
Bubba's four story ranch house was resplendent and the bunkhouse
was in great condition. Bubba said Jack was still decorating some
of the rooms in the big house, and they wouldn't be finished until
the final load of new furniture would be delivered from the store
in Brady by Hoss and Doug Dewberry. They scheduled four deliveries
for the week and their last delivery would be Friday afternoon.
They would return the truck to the store Friday evening and the
following Monday, they would report to work for Bubba. “Ya' ain't
seen everything yet, but after we give you the tour, you'll see
why I need a project manager and a project ramrod to continue.
We're just growing too damn big for me to handle everything going
on. Fortunately, I've had some excellent help with Grover, Jack,
David, Cletus, Zeke, and my faithful companion, Bubba's Brute,”
Bubba said.
* * * * * * *
After a tour of the three bunkhouses and large gathering hall with
kitchens and facilities to feed everyone, Billy was being greeted
by Bubba's cowboys, his slave keepers, and his one punishment
slave. Billy spoke to Orville Higginbothem, “Damn, Orville, you
look even better since you left our ranch. You're much bigger and
looking good. I don't need to ask if they're taking good care of
you, I can see it in your aura,” Billy complimented the big man,
“Is Bubba providing for your needs?” Billy asked, grinned, and
mischievously winked at the big man.
“All I need and more, Master Billy,” Orville replied and blushed.
“Good! It's good to see you healthy and content,” Billy said and
Orville blushed again.
They walked out to take a look at the grounds and to leisurely
stroll to the new buildings on the farthest point of the property.
Billy noticed a number of things he never saw before. “When did
you build them greenhouses, Bubba?” he asked.
“Shortly after you finished yours. They's eight of them and they's
filled with Texas Tea. They will be ready for harvest the end of
August. The harvest here, combined with yours, should help
increase profits and pay you back for some of the building cost,”
Bubba replied.
Billy looked up and saw some unusual structures placed around the
bottom of a steep hill. “And what are those enormous bee-hive
looking contraptions open at the bottom with a round vent at the
top?” Billy asked.
“We call them 'Vornados'. You see they're open at the bottom with
a smaller vent on top. Notice the chain-link fencing and hardware
cloth around the bottoms to keep out small animals and prevent
small birds from being sucked inside. They's painted black to
absorb heat from the sun. The cool air comes in from the bottom
and causes a tornado effect as it passes through veins inside
which are attached to a rotor to add to the cyclonic effect. Each
runs an electro-mechanical turbine which produces the energy we
need to operate the ranch. The blades or veins are suspended in an
anti-gravity field, and since there's little or no resistance,
they can get up to incredible speeds to produce the maximum amount
of energy. They run and produce even on cloudy days. They're
easier to work on, quieter, produce a much larger output, and
don't take up as much room as them big wind turbine machines. They
keep a low profile on the landscape as well. Once the veins inside
the hives start, they automatically add to the cyclonic effect and
draw more warm air in from the bottom. We're building large Earth
batteries in which we will store excess energy until we need it.
We will soon be able to go off-the-grid, but we won't until we
consider our options and get the Grange's approval,” Bubba
explained.
“I understand. It makes more sense than them huge windmill type
generators. It looks like you're fast becoming a model
ranch-of-tomorrow for the Grange, Brother. This is amazing! Were
these wind-turbines your invention, Bubba?” Billy asked.
“You know better'n 'nat,” Bubba said and grinned, “It was one of
them plans my uncle drew up. Aunt Helen called 'em babies to my
attention when I's moan'n about our power bills. My uncle never
done nothing with his ideas. He was too busy being a genius and
inventing shit; however, he submitted a set of original drawings
to gain patent rights, and we found the paperwork. We own the
patent rights. We could start manufacturing them on a larger scale
and sell them for a reasonable price to other ranchers. If our
figures are correct we predict the Highland Shire Grange will be
able to produce enough power to sell surplus back to the city at a
lower rate to help lower our neighbors and town folks bills. The
county power department might get greedy and expect a larger
profit from our work. That's Capitalism for you, and it would
almost surely be expected. The Grange could always buy them out or
threaten to go off-the-grid.
Bubba continued, "We done already installed units over to the
Breedlove ranches, Mick Flynn's spread, Grover, and Jack's
ranches, and we plan to install a couple for Hoss and Doug
Dewberry as soon as they go to work for us. We got two ready to go
for the Garrett's ranch next to yours. We been asked about them by
Mr. Rope-a-dope and Dover Clemson down Junction way. We installed
them on the Hickson ranch and cut the electricity bill by over
three-quarters. We done installed them on Harley-Buck Johnson's
ranch, and the five 'Johnson' board members are interested. We's
making two for Tree Griffin and Tank Barger in the woodlands.
“When you gonna' install some over to our place, Bubba?” Billy
asked like he was hurt.
“I didn't want to seem presumptuous or pushy. I been begging you
to get over here to take a look,” Bubba replied contritely.
“You have, and I been put'n you off. I'm sorry, Brother. I
promise, I won't make that mistake again. So, that's why you asked
for them other Irin cow-people. You's expanding and diversifying
your scope of ranching by creating your own self-sufficient Western
utopia,” Billy said and smiled.
“Pretty much, but I ain't claim'n none of this as my own. That's
why you's here, Brother, to share with you. How are you gonna'
expand your own base of operations if you don't have help,
support, and suggestions? You gotta' have more faith in them what
you delegate responsibilities. Have you even visited the new
Grange Credit Union Co-op Money Management Center?” Bubba asked.
“No, but Hell, you only been up and running for a week. I know I
got several new accounts I got to go in and sign to activate. I
planned to do it this morning. I'll do it first thing this
afternoon, Bubba,” Billy said, “I understand a lot of folks are
taking advantage of the Grange's offer to refinance their
properties at a lower interest rate,” Billy added.
“It's growing every day,” Bubba confirmed. Bubba gave a whistle,
and from around a corner of the old barn, came a large, open-air,
tram which would seat a good number of people. Everyone was
impressed the small tractor pulling the tram hardly made a sound.
It was powered by one of the new Grange Sterling engines.
“Everyone get aboard and we'll take you to the new facilities for
the refurbished Cowboy-Angels we built,” Bubba hollered, and
everyone jumped on board. Bubba and Brute sat in the front seat
behind the tractor and when everyone was aboard he hollered to the
driver to begin.
As the tractor effortlessly carried the group of large men and a
couple of watchers, Bubba picked up a small microphone. The tram
was wired with speakers embedded in the roof and the big cowboy
began to give his passengers a detailed description about what
they would be seeing. Bubba explained the new dormitories were not
fancy but fully functional and gave the Cowboy-Angels a bit more
space and few more comforts his cowboys and cowgirls didn't have;
however, Bubba planned to move his cowboys who were with him for
sometime to the dormitories as the Cowboy-Angels became adjusted
and found positions in society. He would keep the bunkhouses to
begin housing the new Irin-Grigori cowboys they would be
receiving. It was his greatest hope to get the few remaining
cattle on Billy's ranch morphed and allow them to begin their new
lives as cowboys and cowgirls; or cow-persons, if you insist on
being an obnoxious politically correct progressive who never
entertained the word 'moderation.'
The tram made its way up a steep winding road but when it reached
the summit you could see the massive layout. It was breathtaking.
It looked like an Aztec temple and spread out over the ground like
it was there for many years. It was an even-colored dark-clay
color to make it look more like an Aztec structure. “In the name
of some unknown god, Bubba, it's remarkable. You couldn't have
thought of a more ironically iconic structure; however, at the
same time, it looks like it belongs here and them bird-men will
belong in it,” Billy said and everyone agreed, “What's it made of?
What material?” Billy asked.
“Colored concrete,” Bubba replied, “But not just tilt up slabs.
The main walls and even the interiors were cast in reusable molds
to form the Aztec patterns. It was designed and the construction
was supervised by them Munchkin geniuses you call 'Les Six.' I
couldn't be more pleased and proud of them. Once you see the
inside, I think you will agree. There just ain't nothing like it
nowhere except one home in the Hollywood Hills above Los Feliz by
Frank Lloyd Wright called the Mayan Temple. Even so, them Munchkin
men went to great lengths to make their own statement and while I
may be prejudice, I think they surpassed Wright by a county mile.
It will comfortably house a hundred and fifty Cowboy-Angels,”
Bubba explained.
“We ain't even started ours,” Billy said remorsefully.
“You allot the land, and I can have 'em up and ready to go within
a week,” Bubba said, “We done built one on each of the Breedlove
ranches, and one on Mick Flynn's place. Their dormitories will
house one hundred each. We built two more on Grover and Jack's
ranch for fifty each. That's five-hundred and fifty. You only need
housing for another hun'nert and fifty. Use that big parcel of
land you bought what Pete and Leon is gonna' run for you. Build a
smaller number with more rooms what can be turned into apartments
to rent to old folks when them angels move on to important
positions in society. Fifty on your spread, fifty on the Garrett
ranch, and fifty on your new ranch. We'll make them the same like
two bedroom apartments which can be re-outfitted to have full
accommodations in each. We could also make a number of one bedroom
apartments. It will be an investment in the future. We'll build
them so's they can be emergency temporary housing and the way
things is going, you know damn well there's ever' possibility we
may need more room,” Bubba finished.
Billy took a deep breath and sighed, “You're right, Brother. I
agreed to it, so let's get 'er done,” Billy agreed.
They spent the entire morning touring the advanced projects Bubba
and his cowboys installed and talking about future projects. Since
the Earth was becoming hotter every year and they were plagued
with drought in major parts of the country, Bubba decided they
should recycle their fresh water and from his uncle's plans built
huge holding tanks which look like ordinary lakes. They would pump
in their waste-water from showers, sinks, and toilets into a
gigantic concrete tank and allow the heavy effluence to settle.
They stocked it with bottom feeders they called Republican-fish –
catfish and tilapia – to recycle about a third of the human waste.
Another third was taken care of by growing water hyacinths and
water lettuce in the first three ponds.
When they became overgrown, the water plants would be thinned, fed
to the livestock, and the excess thrown on compost piles to rot
and build the soil. Once a month, they would open huge valves and
channel the effluence of water and heavy waste onto barren
wasteland to build top soil for future planting. Bubba invested in
recyclable water filtration systems which would produce three
grades of clean water – water for cooking and drinking, water for
sinks, showers, and toilets. It worked wonderfully and cut back on
their water consumption by two-thirds.
They found a huge, underground vault under Bubba's property and
drilled a four foot wide hole from the surface. They built huge
catch 'flowers' out of sheet aluminum to catch rainwater to feed
it into the cavern to use it as a holding tank for surplus water
during the dryer seasons. It was already about a quarter full.
Bubba went on and on about other projects they planned and how
they were hoping to make the ranch completely self-sufficient
within three years. Billy and his men were impressed. “Is the
water gonna' leak into my chambers?” Billy asked.
“I seriously doubt it, Kemosabe, your chambers are ten miles
deeper on a slant away in the opposite direction to Bubba's
property. Beside, gold won't rust none,” Nick replied for Bubba.
“I thought about it, and I'll admit I wasn't sure if it would
work. I was worried my property might become one massive sinkhole,
but my cowboys and Aunt Helen assured me it was a good idea with
little or no chance of causing damage to the Earth. If the water
went anywhere, it would probably connect with the existing water
aquifer, and that wouldn't be bad thing unless the 'fracking'
criminals pollute the water; then, we're fucked. We've been
testing the water and ain't found any trace elements or chemicals
which might be harmful,” Bubba said.
Bubba was way ahead of Billy and his crew, but since they were
working back and forth, he was satisfied his and the Garrett's
ranches would be brought into line. Not only was Bubba improving
his ranch like his uncle dreamed about, he was bringing his
neighbors, the Hicksons, Harley-Buck, the Sheriff, and several
others members of the Grange along with him. Even the Ondines were
excited about Bubba's ideas about recycling water and catching
rainwater to store in large quantities. They were also very
excited about the farm machinery converted to the new engines. It
was shortly before noon when they finished the grand tour of the
new angel dormitory and several other projects Bubba was
installing.
“Will you men join us for lunch? My slaves eat slave-chow and a
nutrient biscuits for lunch, but my staff in the house is fixing
lunch for everyone,” Bubba invited them. Billy readily agreed, and
they went into the house. Billy was even more impressed by the
work Bubba and Jack put into the house and the detail. There was
still a lot of work to be done, but what they accomplished so far
was remarkable. Jack was having a wonderful time spending Bubba's
money, and it showed. The ranch house was being turned into a
beautiful, tasteful, and comfortable home; one any rancher would
be proud to call home.
Conversation around the table was light with some talk of projects
and personnel. “I'll bet you can't wait to get Hoss and Doug to
start working for you,” Billy said.
“Yeah, I got me a good feeling about them two men. I think they're
gonna' fill a great gap for me and take some major
responsibilities off my shoulders. They only got one more week to
go delivering for the store in Brady. Friday is their last day,
and we're scheduled to have them deliver the last of the order we
bought almost two months ago. They been making about two
deliveries per week, and they delivered a couple of times to Jack
and Grover's place,” Bubba replied, “It's all your fault! We done
seen the way you been slowly fixing up your ranch and how it adds
to the feelings of accomplishment and pride for everyone living in
an atmosphere of care, where they can experience and appreciate
the visual progress for themselves. We've noticed a decided change
in our slaves attitudes and sense of belonging as a result. I
doubt seriously you could find a handful who might wish to return
to your ranch,” Bubba added with pride.
“I have no doubt you're right. I could live here quite
comfortably,” Billy complimented his friend.
After a fine lunch, Billy and his men returned to the Daniels
ranch. Billy announced he would drive into town to take care of
business at the Grange Credit Union. He took Nick, Enoch, Moss,
his Uncle Nate and Tron Garrett. They got the business taken care
of and were given a tour by Dociean and Dorcas, the president and
vice-president of the new Grange Money Management Facility and
Credit Union. Dociean worked hard to become the epitome of the
relaxed, laid-back, slow talking, man of the west, and he was more
than a little convincing. He quickly became known as one of the
finest and most trusted business men in their small town. From his
heavy handle-bar porn-mustache to his cowboy boots he looked like
he stepped out of a catalog with a picture of a western business
man from the turn of the last century. Dociean and Dorcas took on
the Daniels last name and the town loved them. They were warm and
gracious to a fault, but were known as shrewd but compassionate
business people.
They kept several of the older cashiers and workers and brought in
some of their own people. They offered Clarice Wombat an entry
level position and she jumped at the chance to contribute in a
meaningful way. After her first week working with the public, she
commented to several people she never felt more at home. It was
like she knew and loved everyone in the community. She couldn't
have been more happy about giving back to a community she felt was
quickly becoming her new extended family.
* * * * * * *
The drive from Bryan Isobel's home in the Woodlands to the
Colonel's condo in a gated community the government provided him
in an exclusive part of North Houston, took almost an hour. Hank
sat up front with Bryan so they could jaw with each other and go
over what might be expected of them in the meeting they were to
have with the big military chiefs later in the afternoon. “You're
looking way too good, Colonel. That comment was a double-edged
sword. I'm thrilled you look damn-near forty years younger, but
it's gonna' be hard to explain,” Bryan said.
“I been taught to morph my image back to what I looked like before
Billy and his men worked on me,” Hank replied, shook his head and
instantly morphed for Bryan.
Bryan damn-near wrecked the large SUV and started laughing,
“Damnation! That ought a' do it, but you're walking perfectly. You
got a wheelchair you can use? It would be the perfect cover and a
good excuse to have Bart with you. They might take exception to
him sitting in on our debriefing with them big brass moguls,
Colonel,” Bryan suggested.
“That's a good idea I ain't considered, Son. I got one in the
garage I ain't used for a good while. We'll get it down and dust
it off. I don't think they should be concerned; after all, Bart
was a first-hand witness to everything we saw and heard,” Hank
replied.
They went on to talk about other things and Bart paid less
attention to their conversation. He was looking out the window
enjoying the ride. It's a pleasant drive from the Woodlands to
Houston proper. He lay his head back on the comfortable leather
headrest and closed his eyes. Soon, Bart's mind began to drift,
and he opened himself to receive mental messages.
<< I've been knocking on your door for a while now. Glad
you're receiving, >> he heard Seth in his head.
<< You know you're welcome to send anytime, Seth,
>> Bart replied, << You wouldn't contact me unless
it's something you're pretty dang sure I''d be interesting in or
pleased to share, >> he added.
<< Others are not so hospitable and a few are desperate,
>> Seth replied.
<< Oh, Dear, I have a feeling you're baby-sitting our
newest potential younger brother, >> Bart said.
<< You are one of my finest empathetic students, Master
Bart, >> Seth said.
<< Emanuel? >> Bart asked.
<< Exactly! He's terribly lonely. Master Billy allowed
him to ride 'shotgun' with him this morning, and the kid is
soaking up our society like a sponge. He rarely asks a question,
but he will occasionally. Billy has been the perfect big daddy
he needs right now, but his time is limited. He needs a big
brother. Emanuel is a fund of information about the Lizard men
and their biology. He's allowed me to plumb his depths and to
say the volume of his knowledge and what he knows is staggering,
is an understatement. He linked with Master Billy for most of
the morning until Billy and his men went to attend business at
the Grange Credit Union in town. He gently explained he needed
his privacy for a period of time. Emanuel was naturally
disappointed, but he doesn't hold grudges. He understands Master
Billy plans to speak to the Great Golden Bull later about him;
however... >>
<< However, you're currently baby-sitting and you need
help? >> Bart asked as a matter-of-fact and smiled.
<< You're his second idol, Master Bart. He wants to look
just like you, and I can't gainsay he's chosen well, >>
Seth said in a sincere tone.
<< Flattery like that will get you anything you wish,
Dear Friend. Tell him he is welcome to ride shotgun with me for
the day or at least until the Colonel and I retire for the
evening, >> Bart sent.
<< I would be most grateful, Master Bart, and I know
Emanuel will be thrilled, >> Seth sent.
There was a brief pause. << Master Bart, thank you for
letting me come unto you. I promise to be a silent partner until
referred to or if you wish to converse with me, >>
Emanuel sent.
<< That's fine, Emanuel. As you can see, I'm not
occupied at the moment. What can you tell me about them Lizard
men, Son? >> Bart asked.
<< What would you like to know, Master Bart?
>> Emanuel asked in reply.
<< Do they have vulnerabilities? >> Bart
asked.
<< Not familiar with that word, sir, >>
Emanuel replied.
<< Weaknesses. Can they be forced to morph back into
their natural form if they are appearing in human form?
>> Bart asked.
<< I understand, Master Bart. Yes, sir, there's a couple
ways you can force or trick them to show their hand, and an easy
way to kill them without a great deal of physical effort on your
part, >> Emanuel said and began to explain them to
Bart. Bart sat in silence, and as Seth warned him, the young boy
fading slowly into oblivion trapped in an ice glacier began to
stagger him with his volume of knowledge. Emanuel went on and on
until Hank looked to the back seat and saw a glazed look on his
mate's face and knew he was either sending or receiving.
“Bart! Son! Is everything okay?” Hank asked quietly.
Emanuel stopped immediately and paused in the background.
“Yes, everything's fine, Colonel. I got me a new buddy I agreed to
let ride 'shotgun' with me for a while,” Bart replied, “He was
with Master Billy this morning, but Seth asked me to let him come
along with me for a while. He knows the rules and is mannerly and
good-natured about shotgun-protocol. He's alone and lonely. You
know me and stray dogs,” Bart added and smiled.
“Yes, thank the name of some unknown god, I personally experienced
your metaphor first-hand, and I must say, it's one of your best
traits. Give Emanuel my regards, Son,” Hank said.
“What does 'riding shotgun' mean, Colonel?” Bryan asked.
“Riding with somebody in their mind, hearing and seeing what they
experience. Some equate it to watching a live movie or video, but
they can also communicate back and forth with each other. I've
only done it a couple of times with Bart and his family, but it's
an awesome feeling like you're sharing everything with a body of
linked minds instead of being alone. There ain't another feeling
quite like it,” Hank explained to Bryan.
“I don't know if I could get used to telepathy – someone else in
my brain?” Bryan said.
“Sure you can. If I can do it, I know damn-well you can do it,
Son,” Hank encouraged him.
“Things are changing at such a rapid rate, I don't know what to
believe anymore, Hank,” Bryan said on a more personal level.
“Follow your heart, Son, and not what you been taught. I have no
doubt you will be tried again like we were when we landed and
wandered onto the Daniels ranch. We made a pact to only tell what
we want them to know. It's obvious they ain't been none too
forthcoming with us peons over the years. Our trip to enhanced
Cowboy-land was certainly an eyeopener for every man in our posse.
Perhaps, it's time we started keeping some secrets for ourselves,”
Hank said.
“I been thinking a lot about it not being a chance happening.
There were too many coincidences to make a paranormal researcher
shit his knickers,” Bryan said, and they shared a laugh.
“There ain't no doubt in my mind, but don't go get'n no ideas
about gods manipulating us. I would bet my money on a higher
intelligence who can operate in any dimension they wish. I think
we only got a taste of what there is out there and how they might
be a big help if we let them,” Hank replied.
“How can we know, Colonel?” Bryan asked.
“Follow your heart, Son. You got a goodly grasp on what's right or
wrong, I can tell. You ain't never said nothing, but I know your
heart ain't into some of the bullshit they got you doing,” Hank
said.
“You couldn't be more right, sir,” Bryan agreed.
* * * * * * *
Bryan drove the Colonel and Bart to the Colonel's condo. Bart was
impressed. It was in a gated community and everything was in
perfect order. It reeked of money and prestige. The Colonel didn't
invite Bryan inside because he knew he had to report to his office
within the hour. Hank thanked him and told him he would look
forward to seeing him later that afternoon at the conference they
were commanded to attend. Bart noticed Bryan almost got tears in
his eyes as he gave both men a hug. They watched and waved as
Bryan drove away, turned, and walked to the entrance of Hank's
condo.
“Wow! This is an impressive setting, Colonel!” Bart exclaimed.
“Yeah, more'n I need for just myself – certainly more than I
fancy, but it comes with the job. I didn't pick it out. They just
handed me a key and gave me an address. About three-quarters of
the people living here are top government employees of some kind.
The government picks up the tab for everything. Personally, I
think it carries the old saw of rank-has-its-privileges to the
extreme, but it's also a reflection of the times in which we're
living. I was born and raised a cowboy, and I ain't never
developed a craving or need for expensive living. Gimme' a
comfortable bed, a roof over my head what don't leak, and a tight
shack with a fireplace what keeps the cold out, and I'm a happy
buckaroo,” Hank said.
“I saw that in you from the beginning, Master Gus, and it tripped
my get-happy parts,” Bart said quietly and smiled.
“Stop! Don't go there, Son, or we won't get away from here in time
for the meeting,” Hank said and grinned wickedly.
“Let's leave a little early, sir, I got a stop to make. You got
one of them big pet centers around the area?” Bart asked.
“Yeah, they's a big'un in the shopping center not far from here.
You sure you wanna' start shopping for dog collars this early in
our relationship, Slave?” Hank asked and grinned.
“Why, Colonel, you Old Dog! That's about the sweetest thing any
master has ever said to me,” Bart said and laughed, “I was an
Eagle Scout, and I believe in being prepared,” he added. They
shared a laugh at their nonsense.
“Is that why you brought along an extra pair of boots?” Hank
asked.
“Naw, I brought them along for a purpose I ain't sure about, but
my voices told me to bring them and wear them today. They's brand
new and were made especially for me by Master Jurgen Ironmonger as
a token of appreciation for a favor I done for him and his family.
I didn't do much but take his beautiful daughter to the cloud
chambers, introduced her to Seth, and spent a week or so in my
spare time teaching her how best to use his services. He made
Master Billy a pair just like them and I casually told him how
much I admired them and what wonderful work he does. They's made
out of the hide of one of them Lizards they skinned,” Bart said as
he undid the knot on the drawstring of his canvas boot carrying
bag. He reached in and pull out one of the tall dark green boots
and held it for his master to appreciate.
“Damnation! You weren't kidding none. Them's a fine looking pair
of buckaroo boots, Son. Just the thing to make a Lizard's heart
stop or scare the pea-waddling out of him,” Hank said and laughed.
“Yes, that's exactly what I's hope'n for, Master Gus,” Bart
assured his master as he kicked off his other boots and pulled on
the handsome pair of Lizard-skin boots. The heels were a bit
higher than the average western boot and gave the impression Bart
was just a bit taller; almost, but not quite as tall as his
master, and added just a tad more aggressive quality to him. The
boots wore like he was walking on a soft cloud and his feet never
seemed to tire when he was wearing them.
The men didn't tarry too long. Hank gave Bart a quick tour of the
condo and the grounds and the young cowboy was even more
impressed. Hank changed into a fresh uniform and Bart assisted
him. He could have done it himself, but Hank had to admit it was a
welcome luxury to have a handsome young man fuss over him. They
agreed Bryan's suggestion of using a wheelchair was probably a
good idea and cleaned the one Hank stored in his double car
garage. They loaded it in the back. When they were ready to depart
Hank's condo, Hank handed Bart the keys. “We might as well make it
look authentic you're taking care of me,” Hank said.
“We are authentic, my Good Master. I will always take care of you,
Master Gus, for as long as you need me,” Bart said softly.
Hank grabbed Bart and planted a kiss on him which made both of
their get-happy parts stand at attention and fight each other for
room between them. Hank broke it off and stole one small extra
kiss. “And, your lucky master will always take care of you, my
fine Slave-boy,” he whispered in reply.
They took off and Hank gave Bart instructions how to get to the
pet store. When they arrived, Hank decided he should go with his
caretaker. “Are you spying on me, Colonel?” Bart asked and
grinned.
“Oh, Hell no! Knowing your soft heart for animals, I's just
tagging along to make sure you don't buy ever' sad-eyed critter
they got in the place,” Hank replied, and they laughed together.
“You're right about that. You're learning me well. Not to worry. I
assure you, you're the only sad-eyed animal I'm interested in
taking care of and training at the moment, Master,” Bart nailed
him, and they laughed again. “How many of your party what came to
the ranch are gonna' be at the meeting, Colonel?” Bart asked.
“I have no idea. I know my two men have been ordered to come along
with me, Commander Pauli and Captain Miller. I imagine Bryan, Bill
Devers, Scott Stevens, and Jim Hawkins. I don't imagine the pilots
of the chopper will be asked, but I could be wrong. I can't say
for sure,” Hank replied. They entered the huge mega-pet store and
Bart headed directly for the dog training section. He found what
he was looking for and grabbed the only three left.
“Dog whistles? And you need three?” Hank asked like he was
stunned.
“No, I need at least three – more if they got them in stock,” Bart
replied and waved down a stock boy. “You got anymore of these
sonic whistles, Son?” he asked the young black man named George.
At that moment, Hank was quite sure Bart could charm the pants off
a billy goat.
The man brightened at Bart's familiarity and melted. “You know, I
believe we do. We just got in another shipment and haven't had
time to restock them. How many would you like, sir?” he asked.
“Seven more – if you can spare them,” Bart replied like he didn't
want to appear greedy.
“I'll be right back, sir,” George said, turned, and left.
“You never cease to amaze me, Son,” Hank said, “What in the Hell
do you plan to do with ten dog whistles?” he asked.
“We might need them to fight the battle of Jericho, Master Gus.
Ultra-sonic sounds break Lizard men's concentration while morphed
as human. It will instantly make them pass-out, and they will
immediately lose control of their appearance and revert to their
Llizard form. We don't know how they continue holding their
facade, but we do know they can't hold it for long periods without
some kind of recharging. They can't will themselves to physically
morph like we can and maintain a form indefinitely. If the
ultra-sonic sound is powerful and concentrated enough, it has been
known to kill them,” Bart replied, “Like any good Boy Scout, I
want to be prepared,” he added.
“Did you learn this from Emanuel?” Hank asked.
“Yes, sir, the boy is a wonder and his knowledge is formidable. He
is honest and sincere,” Bart said.
“Oh, Dear,” Hank said and rolled his eyes, “Who needs a pet
store?” he lamented. Bart caught Hank's snarky comment, and they
shared a laugh.
George returned with the seven extra ultra-sonic dog whistles and
asked if he could help them with anything else. Bart handed them
to Hank, and reached into his shirt pocket and brought out a five
dollar bill. He handed it to George. “This is for your
graciousness and kindness to go out of your way to help us. Thank
you, George, it's much appreciated,” Bart said sincerely and
firmly shook the man's hand.
“You didn't have to do that, sir. It's my job, but thank you very
much. You're very kind and generous,” George said, and they made
their way to the check-out counter. Hank didn't say a word. He
just shook his head in wonder. He couldn't have been more proud of
Bart at that moment if he was his own flesh-and-blood son. They
walked back to the SUV and Bart opened the door for the Colonel
and when he was seated, he gently closed it, and walked around to
get into the driver's seat. He opened the door, sat down, and put
his seat belt on.
“It's been a pleasant experience getting to know you, Son,” Hank
quietly complimented his young cowboy.
“I hope it continues to be a pleasant experience for you, Master
Gus. I assure you, the feeling is mutual, sir. It's one of the
better parts of bonding,” Bart said and cranked the engine. Not
being familiar with Houston, Hank gave Bart directions how to get
to his office in the Government Building. They arrived and parked
in the Colonel's space reserved for him. Bart got out and removed
the wheelchair from the rear and brought it around to the
passenger side. He opened the door for the Colonel and was struck
by Hank's morph into his previous scarred and distorted face. He
was wearing his black glove so no one would know his hand grew
back. “Looking good but goodly bad, Master Gus,” Bart said
quietly.
“I hope it works,” Hank said.
“I think it will. You got too much bullshit in you not to pull it
off. I got faith in you. You'll sail though the day with your
devoted slave by your side,” Bart said and laughed.
“Thank the name of some unknown god for bullshit,” Hank said,
“It's got me through a lot of situations what would otherwise
become a disaster,” he commented and grinned.
“Amen to that, Master,” Bart agreed, “Someday I hope to write a
sonnet which catches and explores the wonders of bullshit,” Bart
added. The men laughed together.
Bart pushed the Colonel to the underground elevator and pressed
the button. About that time, his other two men on his staff joined
them; Commander Pauli and Captain Miller. They looked concerned
with the Colonel being in a wheelchair, and he looked like his old
self. “Don't panic guys. This is all props. While I was at the
Daniels place, I was taught to morph to my old face to make my
retirement look necessary. What about you men? Do you want them to
know you're completely refurbished,” Hank asked.
“No, sir. That's why I got my arm inside my coat and my arm sleeve
tucked in my pocket,” said Pauli. Miller's taken the same
precaution. I think we might get through okay. Besides, we talked
it over, and since you ain't gonna' be around no more, there ain't
no need for us to stay on. We just been filling in as
step-and-fetch-it messenger boys. We're submitting our
resignations today and relocating to the Hill Country as fast as
we can. There's something about us we ain't never told you,
Colonel,” said Commander Pauli.
“What? You two men been bump'n pussys all these years? Hell, I
know'd it for many a moon. Tell me some'um I don't know,” Hank
said, threw back his head and laughed. “Hell, I done went and
jumped off the deep end ma'self, Men. Since my old lady decided to
up and leave me, I been actively court'n this fine young man you
know from the Daniels Ranch, Mr. Bart Langstrom. Come to find out
my grandmother on my daddy's side was Bart's great grandmother.
You might say we's a bit more than kiss'n cousins,” Hank said and
got a laugh of relief from the other men.
The men walked to their offices together and Miller opened the
door for them. They were right on time. Someone shouted
'attention' and every man and woman stood for the men. “As you
were, Ladies and Gentlemen!” Hank shouted and everyone went back
to what they were doing. Several were concerned about the Colonel
and wanted to know how he was. He told them he was thrown from a
horse, but with his caregiver along with him, he was able to get
around; however, he announced he would be filing his retirement
papers that morning. The Commander and the Captain said they would
be doing likewise. There was much hubbub around the office and
wonder about where their next assignment might be.
Hank introduced the handsome cowboy with him as his relative who
was working for the Daniels Ranch when his accident occurred. Hank
insisted Bart be decked-out in his finest cowboy clothes with his
best hat. He wanted to make a statement, and he felt Bart would do
just fine as a trophy chaperon. The meeting with the higher
big-brass wasn't until one o'clock. They used the time to get the
paperwork done to start their retirement procedure. While they
were busy filling out papers, Bart took his pen knife and
carefully opened the packages containing the dog whistles and
placed each one in the pocket of his cowboy shirt. Before they
left the Colonel's office, Bart handed each man one of the dog
whistles and explained why he was giving it to them. Hank already
knew, but the other two men didn't know what to think; however,
after witnessing what occurred at the Daniels Ranch, they were a
bit more prone to accept what the young cowboy was telling them.
“Do you think we'll actually need these today?” Commander Pauli
asked.
“I don't know, Commander. Probably not, but I'm giving them to you
in case you find yourself in a bind or you suspect someone might
be an alien. It just might save your life. After you men lay
before Master Billy and his healing posse and us Cowboy-Angels
helped with your refurbishment, you probably picked up more
sensitivities toward recognizing such critters. It's for your
protection. Carry it with you in your pocket or put it on your key
chain so's you'll always have it if you need it,” Bart explained.
“Thanks, Son,” Captain Miller said and immediately put his whistle
on his key chain. The Commander thanked Bart and did the same.
When the men were finished completing their retirement papers, it
was getting close to lunch time and the men headed for the
elevator to have lunch in the Officer's Mess. The Officer's Mess
was not cafeteria style. It was run like a fine restaurant.
Seating was by a maitre-d' who presented the men and their guests
with menus and highly trained waiters took their orders and
brought it to them. As the men were waiting for a table, one of
the top generals who would be attending the meeting came into the
Officer's Mess, and he was standing behind the Colonel and his
men. Bart recognize the General the minute he walked in the door
and blushed like a school boy. He never expected he would run into
the Four Star General, Royce Boynton, whom Bart served under
during his five years in the Middle-East.
Hank saw Bart blush and looked to the General who was obviously
looking right at Bart like he'd seen a ghost. The big, brash man
wasted no time being coy and took four giant strides to stand
before Bart and looked directly into his eyes. “Barton Langstrom?
By God it is you!” he declared loudly, threw his massive arms
around Bart and damn-near crushed him as he held him tight. He
blatantly kissed Bart on his right cheek, then on his left, and
embraced him again. Bart got tears in his eyes and so did the
bad-ass General. He let loose and held Bart at arms length to get
a good look at him. “Damnation, Bart! You make a fine looking
cowboy, Son. I can't tell you how good it is to see you again – up
and walking around like nothing ever happened to you,” General
Boynton said loud enough the entire room stopped their
conversations to see the General holding the young cowboy in his
arms.
“It's been a while, General, but I'm glad to meet-up with you
again. You're looking fine as ever,” Bart said.
“Your personality ain't changed a bit, Mr. Langstrom! You're as
fine a man today as you always were. To this day, I'm still in
your debt, and will continue to keep our agreement,” Royce Boynton
said.
“Your table is ready, Colonel,” the Maitre-d' said.
“Will you join us, General?” Hank asked.
“Of course! I'd be downright proud to break bread with you men;
especially with your caregiver, Colonel. Bart and me, we got us
some catching-up to do,” General Boynton said.
Hank was flabbergasted. So was the Commander and the Captain. They
had no idea what was going on.
“Bart ain't just a caregiver, General, he's a relative of mine. My
grandmother and granddad on my dad's side was Bart's
great-grandmother and great-granddad on my dad's sister's side.
“It makes sense. The pieces fit together like a jigsaw puzzle. You
men sprang from the same root. Ain't no doubt in my mind you men
come from good stock and what both of you have accomplished is
exemplary. I pinned more damn medals on this young man's chest
than I ever did another,” the General said loud enough the whole
room could hear him. Bart blushed and adjusted his napkin in his
lap. He was awarded three purple hearts, the Navy Cross, a bronze
star, and the congressional medal of honor before he was of legal
age to consume alcohol,” the General said loudly so the rest of
the room would hear. Everyone in the room stood, including the men
at his table, except for the Colonel, and applauded for Bart.
Bart sat and blushed a deep red color. “Thank you! Thank you, one
and all!” Bart said so everyone could hear.
Everyone sat down again and resumed their conversations. The men
looked at their menus. Bart didn't have a clue what to order. The
General observed Bart and sensed the young cowboy was confused and
a bit baffled. “Do you trust me, Son?” Boynton asked.
“Of course, General. You know I do. Absolutely, sir, without
question. You've always kept your word to me, and you never let me
down,” Bart replied.
“How hungry are you?” the General asked.
“Mean'n no disrespect, General, you should know better than to ask
a cowboy that question, sir,” Bart said and laughed. Everyone
around the table laughed at his reply.
“I remember. Hell, we never could fill you up. I always get the
prime rib. It's the best damn thing on the menu. They cook the
finest prime rib in Houston, Son. They get a really good scald on
it. It should hold us cowboys until supper time. How do you like
it cooked, Son?” Boynton asked.
“Medium rare, sir,” Bart replied.
“'At's ma' boy! 'At's just the way I like it, and I promise you'll
enjoy it! That's an order, Medic First Class Langstrom!” the
General growled and everyone laughed.
Poor Hank was lost. The General saw the bewilderment in Hank's
face and grinned. “Caregiver? Relative? Yet you know nothing about
Langstrom's service record. I watched your reaction. You ain't got
chore'self no idea what the Hell you got in the palm of your hand,
Hank Halfablap. It figures. 'At's just the way he is. Medic First
Class Langstrom ain't one to go 'round brag'n about his
accomplishments. He's a gentleman with a kind heart and the
bravery of a frick'n bull what's done gone crazy from eat'n Jimson
weed,” Royce Boynton declared and looked across directly at Bart.
“So, Cowboy Bart, you wanna' tell your old General-buddy how it is
you ain't in a bed paralyzed from your waist down because of that
rodeo accident what happened about a year after you left the
service, Son?” the General asked.
About that time, the waiter came to their table to take their
orders. The General ordered for him and Bart and the other men
ordered the same on the General's recommendation. << What
should I tell him, Master? >> Bart sent to Hank.
<< The truth is always best, Son. I got your back, >>
Hank replied.
“You been down for years, Barton. I come and visited you ever'
damn year on your birthday and took you to dinner all them years.
I never missed a year and got it on my calendar it's coming up
within the next three weeks – August fifteenth. However, today, I
find you up and fully functional like you done had a miracle
occur. I think you owe me an explanation, Cowboy,” Royce Boynton
said quietly so only the men at his table could hear.
“The insurance company wouldn't approve the therapy I needed to
encourage my spinal chord to grow back together properly, and with
the cutbacks in VA, they do very little for you unless it was a
service connected injury or disability. Several months ago, I was
invited out to the Daniels Ranch for a weekend with my friend you
met several times, Brent Sparks. The simple truth, without
embellishment, is Master Billy Daniels took pity on me and my
buddy, Brent Sparks, and he and his posse of cowboy-healers
refurbished our bodies,” Bart said.
Nothing was said as the waiter returned with their salads and a
pepper mill. When he was finished and everyone began to eat their
food, the General took a goodly bite of his salad, and as he was
chewing, he aimed his fork at Bart and shook it three times like
he was cogitating a powerful thought until he swallowed. “Come to
think on it, ain't he the young cowboy, the one they call the
Walmart Cowboy Jesus, what was supposed to miraculously heal that
little boy in a parking lot in Fredericksburg? It was on the tube
and Internet for a week or more. My boy made me watch it several
times,” the General asked quietly so only his table could hear.
“Yes, sir, Randy Rutherford. He was Master Billy's first healing.
Randy's ma' little brother, and he's a handful,” Bart allowed.
“Yeah, me and my boy watched several of them Barnyard concerts
broadcast from the Daniels Ranch, and I seen that boy do some
pert-damn remarkable things. My boy loves them concerts and has
every DVD they produced. So what is this cowboy? Is he the second
coming? Is he an alien?” Boynton asked, and the men laughed. “I
want to believe you, Son, but I'm sorry, I need more proof than
hearsay; although, to your credit, if there was any man on this
planet I would stake my life on to never lie to me, it would be
you, Barton Langstrom. Is what you're telling me true, Son?” he
asked.
“Would you believe me, General?” Hank asked.
“Oh, Hell no! I know'd you for too many years, Cowboy. You'd blow
smoke up my ass in a cow-town minute, if'n I's to bend over,
pucker up, and hold still long enough!” the General exclaimed and
got the men laughing at his hyperbole.
“Watch this, General?” Hank said and slowly took his glove off his
hand in his lap so only Bart and the General could see. Hank
opened and closed his fist and wiggled his fingers. The General's
eyes grew big. Hank continued, “I got me a nice new new leg, a set
of balls with a fine cock to match, too, if you'd like to see 'um
later,” Hank said.
“Holy Shit! No, I believe you, but I still wonder if I ain't
living one of them Candid Camera programs they used to have on
TV,” Boynton said.
“I got me a new leg and a new left arm, General,” Commander Pauli
said and brought his left hand from his coat to show him. The
General shook his head.
“Master Billy made me whole again, General,” Captain Miller
supported the other men.
“Then I must meet this man and take my disabled son with me. Can
you men arrange it?” the General asked.
“Can you arrange to have us mustered out of the service without a
final physical? Our remarkable healings might be difficult to
explain,” Hank asked.
“Have each of you had a checkup within the last six months?”
Boynton asked. The men agreed they had. “Then, there's no problem.
I'll just rubber stamp them, and you'll be set; but, don't think
you'll get rid of me that easily,” the General said and winked.
“You're welcome on our ranches anytime you can get away,” Hank
assured him.
“We'll keep in touch and have you and Roy out to the Daniels ranch
as soon as possible. You won't regret it, General, but I still
expect you and Roy to remember my birthday,” Bart said.
“I wouldn't miss it for the world,” he said, “Oh, and one day,
Hank, I will tell you the story about the tiger what you got for a
caregiver. He saved my boy's life, and he's alive today because of
Barton Langstrom,” the General said.
<< Is what he said about you true, Master Bart?
>> Bart heard a wee voice in his head. Bart saw Hank look at
him and his eyes raised. Then he heard, << I'd bet my
last nickel the General was telling the truth, Son, >>
Hank sent to the boy.
<< Thanks, Master Hank, >> Emanuel said
quietly.
<< You're welcome, Son, >> Hank replied.
As the men sat and ate their sinfully delicious desserts, they
were quiet for a few moments and there came a peace over them
which seemed to unite them as one. It was strong and powerful, but
it was also life confirming and almost rewarding to the point of
an uneasy ecstasy. << Are you projecting this feeling,
Son? >> Hank sent to Bart.
<< Naw, sir. It's too subtle and powerful for me. Are you
providing this moment, Little Brother? >> Bart asked
Emanuel and left his channel open for the Colonel.
<< I'm sorry, Master Bart and Master Hank, I couldn't
help myself. I felt you men needed it, and I wanted to belong
and become a part of your stronger bond. I humbly apologize. I
will withdraw, and I won't expect you to allow me to ride
shotgun with you anymore, >> Emanuel said.
<< Wait a minute! Wait a minute! Not so fast, Little
Bro! You did no harm and as a matter of fact, I agree with you.
It felt too damn good to punish you by shunning you. We needed
that moment right then and you provided it for us. There ain't
no telling what we're getting ourselves into this afternoon so
we need all the support we can get. Don't you dare cut yourself
off from our mental feed. At this point, we may need you more'n
you need us! >> Bart exclaimed.
<< Listen to your big brother, Son. His strong stance
are words of wisdom. He won't never tell you wrong. If you can't
see through his eyes, jump to mine. One simple tip what might
make things easier for you – consider asking before you do
something like 'at again, >> Hank supported Bart.
<< I promise, I will, sir, and thank you both for
understanding, >> Emanuel said.
<< We do understand, Lem. Just stay tuned but don't
hesitate to comment, >> Bart further urged the young
boy.
“Am I the only man at this table what just felt something
unusual?” the General asked.
“Naw, sir. We all felt it. It was an artificially induced moment
of 'Zen' or a greater feeling of bonding within our small group at
this table. Ain't no doubt in our minds we are of one mind and are
bound to each other like magnets drawn close to their opposite
poles. There is another person with us who caused it, but he ain't
no spiritual body, he's a real soul what's caught in a massive ice
sheet near the arctic circle. He is a young boy about ten years of
age. He was frozen before he reached puberty thousands of years
ago. His essence has managed to survive for eons, and he has only
revealed himself to us within the last couple of days. Me and the
Colonel have been allowing him to ride 'shotgun' in our minds so's
he can keep his spirits up until we can rescue him and have Master
Billy restore him to his original self. His name is Emanuel. I
call him Lem. He meant no harm. He just wanted us to experience a
greater bond, so he might consider himself contributing to our
sense of purpose and well being before we go into the meeting,”
Bart explained and Hank backed him.
“I done seen too much to even question you about it, Son,” the
General said and continued, “To be honest, I been a bit
apprehensive about this meeting myself, but our moment of 'Zen,'
as you put it, gave me the confidence I need to face what's coming
this afternoon. Usually, civilians are never allowed to sit in at
big chief's sweat-lodge pow-wow, but I want Bart there along side
of his relative. Besides, Bart's got the military chops. He's paid
his dues to sit down with them big boys. I'm bet'n Bart's got more
direct experience with them aliens than any man here, and as
military, we don't always get the real skinny about what went down
and why, until it's filtered through a handful of other secret
agencies. The right hand – i.e. military – most times don't know
what's going on with the rest of the body. We're left in the dark
to jack-off when they finally decide to give us enough porn to
arouse us. Bad metaphor, but I know you men get ma' drift,”
General Royce Boynton declared.
“Furthermore,” the General continued, “it will be overseen by an
incompetent five star General and two of his lackey, asswipe
yes-men – the General, whose job I was in line for, and should
have gotten if it weren't for a lot of rotten political
maneuvering. That bastard was bumped up three notches at once to
become my boss. Something ain't right in Denmark, Gentlemen. As a
matter of fact, it's rotten, and it smells to the high heavens of
dark politics. It ain't just a bad case of sour-grapes on my part
neither. Since our moment of Zen, I feel like I got the right and
have the need to be honest with you men. Maybe part of it is
encouraged by your little buddy, but most of it comes from a great
personal need to unload a few things with some good men I know I
can trust.
“Finding-out about your 'refurbishments' caused a fleeting moment
of pressing you to stay-on for a spell spurred by my own personal
selfishness, but it quickly fled when I considered how we would
ever explain your miraculous recoveries; however, it also made me
feel compelled to share another bit of news with you. Don't think
you men were the only ones who suffered major pay-cuts in the last
couple of years. Everyone in every branch did, across the board,
with the exception of General Shylock and his two cronies.
Everyone else suffered massive pay cuts. The lower your rank, the
greater the cut. They have the least power to complain. Gotdamn
it, it just ain't right! You ain't the only ones what been
seriously considering retirement. I may not be far behind you. To
be honest, I think that's what they want. They know I'm too well
thought of and politically powerful to just hand me my walk'n
papers or try an assassination plot, but I don't plan to hand them
my balls for easy removal,” the General said and grinned.
Several other topics were brought up and the General talked as
easy with the men as if they were part of his inner circle of
family. He held nothing back and told them secrets they never knew
or heard about. It was an enlightening moment. Hank and Bart came
to be deeply concerned for the General and felt like they must
find a place in their family for him and his son. After all, as
high ranking and well thought of as General Royce Boynton was, it
would be a major feather in the Daniels family's cowboy bonnets.
The men finished lunch, and as they were leaving, Bart saw the
General take a ten dollar bill and slipped it to the waiter as he
shook his hand and thanked him for his service. The waiter thanked
the General and blushed. General Boynton tipped the maitre-d' ten
bucks as well, and the tall maitre-d' thanked him graciously. They
took the elevator to the top floor and walked into the gathering
room outside the conference room. There were Military Police at
every exit including the elevator. Each one was bigger than the
last and looked like they lived three-quarters of their lives in a
gym. Rather than be intimidated by them, Bart looked upon them as
possible allies if he needed them.
The attendants arranged snacks, coffee, tea, and bottled water for
the men on several tables around the room. The NSA men were there
along with top Generals from the Army, Marines, Air Force and a
couple of Admirals. To everyone's surprise, the two chopper
pilots, Major Dan Radner and Lieutenant Dudley Bean, were there.
There was about thirty men in uniform except for the four NSA men
who came out to the Daniels Ranch with the Colonel and his men.
They were dressed in civvies.
The NSA men and pilots gravitated to the Colonel and Bart. Bart
left the Colonel in his wheelchair in conversation with General
Boynton and a couple of Admirals. Bart managed to call Bryan
Isobel, Bill Devers, Jim Hawkins, Scott Stevens, and the two
pilots aside and gave each man one of his dog whistles. They
gathered around him like they were in a football huddle and spoke
in soft tones so no one else could hear their conversation. “I
know this might sound crazy, but hear me out. These are
ultra-sonic dog whistles I'm giving you men. We recently got
information from a good source these babies will scramble Lizard
brains and make them lose control from being morphed to look like
humans. I ain't say'n we'll run into one, but keep it handy just
in case. If I observe the black auras of any of the men in the
room and you hear me use the code word 'Joshua' get ready to blow
your brains out with your tiny horns. You won't hear it because
it's way above our hearing range but it will cause them
Llizard-scum to go crazy. It will expose them to everyone present
and with enough of us blowing them whistles, it just might kill
them. At any rate, keep blowing until I tell you to stop,” Bart
explained.
Bart was surprised. He thought he'd get a lot of questions, but
they looked at him and got the biggest smiles on their faces like
they finally were sharing a secret which was worth more than a
tinker's damn. They agreed to a man they would follow Bart's
instruction to the letter. After all, if Bart's plan didn't work,
how much trouble could they be in for blowing a damn dog whistle.
They were almost giddy like young boys who knew a secret the
others didn't. The thought on each of their minds was, what if
Bart was right and the whistles really worked. The gamble was too
great a temptation not to consider.
Last to arrive were General Shylock and his men. Bart gasped when
he saw the black angry aura of the General and his men. There was
no doubt in his mind they were Lizards. Bart tickled the Colonel.
<< Can you see General Shylock and his men's aura,
Master Gus? >>
<< I do, now that we're linked. Jesus H. Christ! As old
as I am and seen me some shit in my life, I gotta' admit it's a
scary sight. Let's play it cool, Son. You got our men primed and
ready? >> Hank asked.
<< Yes, sir, and remember, the magic word to blow your
whistle is 'Joshua' >> Bart said.
<< Play it by ear, Son. I got faith in you, and I think
our General does too, >> Hank sent.
General Shylock and his men were schmoozing with the other men,
and he caught sight of Bart in his cowboy clothes pushing the
Colonel's wheelchair. “What's a civilian doing here? You men know
we never allow civilians in our meetings – especially this
particular meeting. We don't want the general public gaining
knowledge about this investigation or all Hell will break loose!
As far as the government and I'm concerned, there's absolutely
nothing to it of any substance. The idea of aliens living on our
planet is bullshit and hogwash,” Shylock barked.
“Allow me to introduce you to Colonel Halfablap's caregiver for
his last visit to Houston. This young cowboy is Mr. Barton
Langstrom. The Colonel filed his retirement papers this morning
and Mr. Langstrom is not only a relative of the Colonels, he was
the most highly decorated man under my command in the Middle-East.
He's earned his dues in the military, and he was a first hand
witness to the capture and incarceration of the aliens. He knows
more about the situation than any other man here. I think what he
has to say, and the questions he might answer for us, will give us
a better and much more complete picture as to what we're dealing
with, sir,” General Royce Boynton explained. “Surely a civilian
with Bart Langstrom's background could do little harm to our
country's defense systems,” the General added and smiled.
General Shylock looked Bart up and down and sneered at him. “All
right, Boynton! But to make it legal, I want him sworn in right
now as a member of your staff and put him on your payroll as an
officer and civilian attache,” he barked at Royce.
“What pay grade, General?” General Boynton asked.
“O-3,” Shylock replied to Boynton's surprise.
“O-3 it is, sir! Raise your right hand, Son,” the General ordered.
Bart handed his hat to the Colonel and Hank set it in his lap.
Hank got the biggest grin on his face. Bart came to attention and
repeated the military oath and induction words the General said.
When they were done, the General took Bart's hand and winked at
him. “Congratulation Captain Barton Langstrom. Welcome to the
Marine Corps, Son, where you should have been all along. I got me
a good feeling about this, Gentlemen,” General Royce Boynton said
as he pulled Bart into his big arms for a strong bear hug and a
loud pat on the back. Bart returned it while the Colonel was
laughing his ass off inside.
<< Captain? Sweet! >> Bart sent to his
master, and he thought he was going to have to pinch Hank to get
the silly grin off his face. He even heard Lem laughing quietly in
his mind. Several of the other Generals and a couple of Admirals
came around to congratulate Bart as well. It only shored up Bart's
personal confidence. Bart went into his 'mission' mode what got
him through five years in the Middle-East. He was not going to
allow himself to be intimidated nor would he become another
ass-wipe 'yes-man.' Whether he would actually be able to kill
General Shylock and his two Colonels remained to be seen; however,
it didn't matter as long as he could expose them to the rest of
the top military men in the country as being frauds and aliens.
Once he ripped off their veneer, he figured the no-nonsense top
brass of the U.S. Armed Forces certainly should be able to handle
three vicious reptilian killing machines. On second thought, he
forgot to consider, he had his master to protect, and he would
pull out every stop to defend the man he loved above all others.
He thought about the hyper-masculine Spartans who would go into
battle and fight fiercely to protect their lovers at the cost of
their lives, if necessary. Bart felt no fear. His heart rate
slowed considerably as his cold blood calmed his nerves.
The men filed into the room, but with Bart's suggestion, the
Colonel made sure his posse sat in the seats near the exit and
directly in front of General Shylock and his cronies seated at the
head of the long, heavy table. Bart was surprised no military
police were allowed into the room. He mentally asked Hank about
it, and the Colonel replied it was for security reasons. They
couldn't always trust the MPs to keep their mouths shut,
especially with a subject as sensitive as they planned to discuss.
Bart saw it as a boon to his plans and position. He wouldn't have
to explain to several trigger happy MPs he was an alien hunter
just doing his job.
<< Do you trust me, Master? >> Bart sent.
<< Completely, Captain Langstrom, as long as you feel
comfortable in them fine new boots you be wear'n, >>
Hank replied and Bart grinned at his double metaphor.
<< Them's magic boots I be wear'n, Master. They be cured
and blessed with the sperm of uncounted numbers of my loved ones
back on the ranch. Both boots are primed and loaded to protect
me and my master from Lizard trouble, Colonel, >> Bart
sent.
The meeting began, and rather than General Shylock taking charge,
he left it to General Boynton to get the conversation going.
General Boynton gave a pretty good overview of what they already
knew including the several videos made by civilians at the Plaza
in San Diego and the video of the captured alien lizards Master
Billy provided the news media. The General added the military
were, unfortunately, not in possession of any of the bodies which
were dropped onto the Plaza nor the aliens from the Daniels Ranch.
General Boynton asked Bryan Isobel to give a brief overview of his
men, the Colonel, and his staff's trip to the Daniels Ranch. Bryan
spoke highly of the openness of Billy Daniels and his ranch hands.
Bryan said he couldn't wish for a more cooperative and helpful
group of men, but the sum total of their visit was, they were
angry and frustrated, after their hard work, they were hoodwinked
by some men claiming to be from the NSA who took away the aliens
held captive by the Daniels family.
“We did get to see several rather large remaining pieces of hide
from the smallest alien lizard who the other aliens managed to
kill, tear apart, and eat most of the flesh parts leaving only the
skin and head. Master Daniels was gracious enough to share the
head and several pieces of it with us for analyzing. We submitted
the remains we brought back to our next highest in the command,
and they told us they would see to it. So far, we haven't received
any response, and it's been a good while since,” Bryan said.
“Why didn't you take everything from him? You shouldn't have left
anything. It was your duty to demand every piece of evidence. I
could have you busted for this, Isobel!” Shylock exclaimed.
“And that attitude is exactly why we don't get much cooperation
from the public, because they have been lied to and hoodwinked
time and again. They have nothing to show for their efforts to be
good citizens to the point there's no incentive to be forthcoming
with us anymore. I beg you to consider some other government
agency already was there and ripped them off. It took some fancy
footwork, empathy, and eating a goodly portion of humble pie to
get Mr. Daniels and his men to open up and be honest with us about
what they observed and how they felt about the matter. If we did
as you suggested, it would only confirm their view of our agency,
and we would never get any further cooperation from them.
Obviously, you know very little about the country folk of our
nation. The majority are strong, resourceful, resilient,
hardworking, intelligent, sensitive, good people, and they don't
cotton much to government men lying to them and trying to use them
as tools,” Bryan came back strongly.
“Hear! Hear!” Admiral Sparks said and several of the other
military men agreed with him. "We got too damn many agencies
competing with one another. There's no telling who went out there
before you could get there, Son. I'm convinced you did your best,”
the same Admiral said strongly.
“Thanks, Admiral,” Bryan said and sat down.
“And you and your men represented the military, Colonel Halfablap?
What do you have to say about the matter?” General Shylock asked.
“Due to an unfortunate riding accident, I spent more time with the
Daniels family than my cohorts who accompanied us. As most of you
men know, I own a ranch in the same general area about a hundred
miles Southwest of the Daniels Ranch. They were very good to me,
and while I was incapacitated most of the time I was there, I had
a chance to listen to the men talk about their experiences with
the aliens. I don't know what you men need to acknowledge they
pose a great threat to our world and for whatever purpose they're
here, the very reason they seem to need to hide their presence and
operate in secrecy suggests a nefarious, devious, and deceitful
way to infiltrate another society in an attempt to manipulate them
for their own purposes and benefits.
“I would suggest several of our secret agencies have been
infiltrated by them and are still trying to keep their presence as
secret as possible; however, our government simply refuses to
admit to the public they actually exist. They have been making
great inroads in overwhelming and controlling our government.
We're faced with a situation like Hans Christian Anderson's 'The
Emperor’s New Clothes' when we refuse to admit we got a problem
because everyone pretends they can't see the naked truth lest they
be made to look like fools,” Colonel Hank Halfablap said
gallantly.
A large percentage of the men around the table applauded for Hank,
and he graciously thanked them. General Shylock didn't respond.
“Enough of this bullshit session. It's all hearsay! There's
nothing concrete to go on. Until I set my eyes on a dead alien, I
refuse to believe in such nonsense!” exclaimed Shylock, “I want to
hear from our newest member, who I hope, will be able to tell us
more. What do you have to say on the matter, Captain Langstrom?”
the General asked bluntly.
Bart slowly stood from his chair, “Meaning no disrespect, but
could you be a bit more specific, sir? Exactly what do you want to
know? These good men have tried to tell you there are some highly
unusual things going on out there and while the public is on the
front lines, which you and I have sworn to protect, our government
refuses to listen to their cries for help!” Bart exclaimed.
“I'll make it simple for you, Captain Langstrom. Do they exist,
and is there a real threat?” Shylock asked.
“And I'll try to make my reply as simple as I can for you to
understand, sir. Yes! Absolutely, they exist! I have personally
seen them and interacted with them. They are a formidable foe, and
in some areas, but not all, they seem invincible. Like any
species, they have flaws and weaknesses, and it's been rumored
they have an Achilles heel. A few of us are becoming more aware of
their limits and their presence and have been able to flush them
out from time to time. They are more advanced technologically than
we are, but we're swiftly catching up. They have infiltrated the
upper echelons of our governments and are calling the shots. They
look down on humans and consider them little more than cattle for
their use and ultimately as a tasty food source,” Bart said.
“I certainly hope your statement isn't a thinly-veiled suggestion
me and my men are aliens,” Shylock said and laughed. His cronies
laughed with him almost too enthusiastically like a paid audience
for a performance of a bad comedian.
“No, sir, not at all. I ain't suggesting nothing, but just by
chance you might be, consider the conundrum the idea might
present. At best, I would suggest, if the boot fits, wear it,
General,” Bart said and there was a silence around the table you
could have cut with a knife. It said little, but it spoke volumes.
“I will overlook your implied impertinence, Captain. Actually, it
was rather refreshing considering the average output from this
herd of mindless maverick cattle. It is a brash flaw of youth who
are too sure of themselves. You've been away from the military too
long, but I submit to you and the rest of you men, you're allowing
your reasoning to be too easily overcome by mass hallucination.
You haven't produced a shred of evidence to support your claims.
I'm not convinced, and while you men might seem sincere to the
point of heartbreak, I'm afraid the truth is, you've been
hopelessly deceived,” Shylock said like his word was the end of
the conversation.
“How big a piece of evidence do you require, General?” Bart asked.
“Anything you can produce to back your claim,” Shylock said with a
wicked grin.
“It just so happens I do have evidence, General. I'm wearing it,”
Bart said flatly and there came a silence around the room waiting
for a resolution. Hank got a grin on his face, and he slowly shook
his head like he knew where Bart was going. A picture flashed in
his mind of Bart standing behind a medieval battering ram poised
at the main gate to a great castle about to give the order for his
troops to break it down. General Royce Boynton watched Hank's face
for a clue, sucked in air through his teeth, and held it in
anticipation. The General knew better than to second guess Barton
Langstrom, but he was almost certain some powerful shit in Bart's
well-ordered brain was just about to hit the fan.
“Really, Captain Langstrom, we don't have time for childish games.
What small shred of evidence could you possibly produce?” General
Shylock asked.
“With your permission, sir, I'll be glad to share it with you and
these fine gentlemen assembled,” Bart said dramatically.
“You have my permission, Captain,” Shylock responded.
Bart sat down in his chair and pulled off his fine Lizard skin
buckaroo boots, stood, and set them on the table. He watched
General Shylock and his men's faces, and he could swear he saw
them become a bit green around the gills. At the very least, they
were noticeably uncomfortable. “These boots were made for me as a
gift by our talented leather craftsman on our ranch as a token of
appreciation for having tutored his beautiful young daughter on
how best to use her cyber-skills. They were made from the hide of
the poor alien Lizard whose mates killed and ate him because he
was the smallest and weakest of the lot. They were hand cured and
have been impregnated with the sexual ejaculate from over two
hundred men whom I work with and who love me as a brother on our
ranch. These boots are magic and very precious to me. The aura of
my beloved brothers and my master surround and protect me from
them slimy filthy Lizard bastards when I'm wearing them,” Bart
said as the other military men looked at Bart's handsome pair of
boots. They were truly a work of art.
“Did your leather Master-Craftsman have enough left over to make
me a pair, Son?” the ever impertinent General Royce Boynton asked
and got everyone around the table laughing to break the heavy
seriousness of the moment. General Shylock and his men were quiet.
The color left their faces like the were in shock.
“That's disgusting!” hissed General Shylock. “Well, you can kiss
them boots goodbye because they are no longer yours. We will have
to confiscate them to run tests to verify your claim, Captain
Langstrom,” Shylock said.
“You asked for proof, and I have provided it for you. Meaning no
disrespect, General, but I wore these damn boots to this meeting
in good faith, and I promise you, come Hell or high-water, I will
wear them home, sir!” Bart said firmly, sat down, and pulled his
boots on.
“Begging your pardon, General, but you already have samples of the
same hide provided by Mr. Daniels. You don't need to rob a fine
cowboy of his work tools. I grew up and lived among cowboys all my
life and believe me, Captain Langstrom's boots are a necessary
part of him. A cowboy's boots are as sacred to him as a holy icon
to a true believer. They become him and vice versa,” Bryan Isobel
spoke up in Bart's defense.
“Hear! Hear!” shouted Jan Sparks the same Admiral who spoke up
before. “General, you're trying to do the same damn thing this
young man and the Colonel tried to tell you we shouldn't be doing
to the general public. I dare say he's made his point, and I for
one, will stick up for him if I have to personally escort him out
of here with his boots on,” he said.
“Hear! Hear!” shouted the rest of the top brass in the room. For
the first time, Bart saw Shylock was becoming unnerved. He was
loosing control and knew he better tone-down his arrogance or he
might have a rebellion on his hands. Shylock decided to refocus
his wrath on Admiral Sparks.
“I will not tolerate insubordination in my ranks. Fetch the MPs,
Colonel Mapes, to arrest Admiral Sparks and take him to the brig,”
Shylock ordered his number two man. Mapes got up and started for
the door.
“Wait a minute! You don't wanna' do that, General,” Bart stood and
put his hand up for Mapes to stop. “Admiral Sparks is a good man
and a worthy ally. He only expressed his honest opinion. I'd like
to think our country is still free enough for a man to speak his
mind without fear of retribution like you're suggesting. If not,
then you and your men will have to go through me, and I don't
think you want to do that either,” Bart challenged Shylock.
“Don't bother, Bart! While I appreciate your heroism, Son, I'll go
willingly. I'm just an old and stubborn warrior with enough piss
and vinegar left in him to stand up to that little tin-pot
dictator and oppose him; and, his ass-wipe posse to boot. It's
about time somebody stood up to him and his blood thirsty
nonsense. As I know you're well aware, many have died for less,
Son,” Admiral Jan Sparks said.
“Would you agree to belay your last order, General, and overlook
the Admiral's words in support of me if I agree to produce further
evidence of an alien presence, sir?” Bart asked firmly.
“If nothing else, I have to give it to you, Captain, you must have
a big pair of balls between your legs. I don't seem to be able to
intimidate you like these other clowns, and in a perverse way, I
find it rather refreshing, but don't embarrass yourself, Hot-shot!
I know you're bluffing. Are you really so fucking naïve you don't
understand I'm holding all the cards. You're too damn sure of
yourself, Son. You need to be taken down a notch, and I'm just the
man who can do it; however, I'm enough of a sportsman, Captain
Kitty-teeth, I'd really enjoy watching you make a total fool of
yourself and go down in flames. I agree to your your terms. Sit
down and shut up, Admiral! Sit down Mapes!” Shylock barked at the
Admiral and his man, Mapes, took his chair. “The stage is yours,
Captain. I'm calling your bluff. Show me what chu' got, Boy!”
Shylock demanded like the spider to the fly.
“Gentlemen, what you are about to witness won't be pretty. It may
even be shocking, but remember, you are in no immediate danger. I
would never allow your safety to be jeopardized on my account. You
must trust me, I have complete control of the situation. As
recorded in the bible, it's time we surrounded the city of Jericho
and tear down its walls to allow us to see the vile perversion and
sin which dwells within. Like Joshua and his army, it's time to
take up our trumpets and march around the perimeter until there
remains no threat from our enemy. Are you with me?” Bart asked
firmly. Every man with a dog whistle replied, 'Aye, Captain!'
Bart returned his attention to Shylock. “You challenged me to
produce an alien for you, General. I promise you, you will never
make the mistake again of trying to buffalo a cowboy what's wear'n
a pair of magic Lizard boots, sir,” Bart said, took out his
sonic-dog whistle, and began to blow.
“Jesus Christ! What are you doing? Oh, my God that hurts! Stop it!
Stop!” Shylock cried out in pain, but by that time, nine more
whistles were being blown and the military men around the room
watched incredulously as the three aliens rocked back and forth
and started losing control of their morph until there was no
doubt, they were the aliens Bart was taking about. The men jumped
up in fear to move back away from the table, but an older Admiral,
Benjamin Armitage, fell over in his chair clutching his chest and
his head hit the table with a loud thump.
General Shylock and his two cohort's heads also lay on the table
with their bodies still jumping about until they lost
consciousness and were completely out. As the height of tension
passed from defcon-red to yellow, there came a boisterous nervous
laugh from the other end of the table. It was General Royce
Boynton enjoying the moment to the max. “God damn it, Langstrom!
There ain't never been a man like you before and never will be
again! I'm sure the day you were born, they done went and broke
the fuck'n mold and beat the mold maker to death afterward. I
can't think of another hombre what could pull off a coup d'état
like that and produce three fuck'n aliens at the same time. It was
a brilliant move, Son! No, god-damn-it, it was a stroke of
genius! Talk about hitting the jackpot! You just may be the only
man in history what gets a congressional medal from every branch
of our military service,” Boynton exclaimed, the other men agreed,
and laughed nervously. “Come Captain Corpsman Langstrom and check
out Admiral Ben for us mere mortals,” General Boynton ordered.
Bart went to the Admiral and checked his pulse. “I'm afraid he's
dead'er than a door-nail, General. Them alien scum probably
frighted him so bad he suffered a coronary,” Bart said.
To everyone's surprise, Colonel Halfablap jumped up from his
wheelchair and walk over to Bart and the Admiral with a strong,
healthy stride. He put his arm around Bart's shoulder and spoke,
“Can we save him, Son? Ben is a good man. One of our finest,” the
Colonel said and the others agreed he would be a great loss to
them.
“Well, you know what our master has preached to us: if it's a
matter of life and death, compassion dictates we must set aside
secrecy and heal him. Are you ready, Master Gus?” Bart asked.
“I'm ready, Son. Don't you men shit your knickers, we'll return in
a second. Let's went, Hero,” Hank said and the two men vanished.
The military men didn't even have time to comment when Bart and
Hank returned fully fledged in their beautiful matched pair of
wings wearing their fine leather harnesses.
The military men were flabbergasted. General Royce Boynton slapped
his knee and couldn't stop laughing. “Just when I thought I done
seen it all, that damn boy done pulled the rug out from under me
again. Hoe-lee crap!” the General exclaimed and everyone laughed
at him.
While they were in the cloakroom winging up, Bart took advantage
of contacting Seth to send out an emergency call for Cowboy-Angels
and Master Billy's alien disposal brigade of eight Warrior-Angels
and eight Watcher-Protectors. Pretty soon the room was filled with
Cowboy-Angels and eight Watcher-Protectors. They quickly removed
the Admiral's tie, coat, and shirt and laid him on the conference
table. Doc Oatie managed to get away and several other big, beefy
Cowboy-Angels came with him. They brought the Admiral around in
minutes, and he was breathing normally. He woke up and looked
around at the Cowboy-Angels. “Hell, I never thought I'd make it to
heaven,” he said and got a laugh from everyone.
“You ain't in heaven yet, you Old Butt-pirate, but I can
understand your mistake, Admiral,” General Boynton said, “We took
us a vote and couldn't decide whether to bring you back or not, so
we flipped a coin, put in a call to some Cowboy-Angel buddies of
mine, and here you is, back among us other poor sods what's trying
our best to live a good life. With you back among us, I assure
you, life just done got a little sweeter, Ben,” Boynton said and
laughed again. He was having a ball, slinging bullshit and cowboy
hyperbole without the pressure of Shylock lording it over him.
“We'd like to take you back with us to the Daniels Ranch, Admiral,
so's we can do some major repairs and maybe a little body and
fender work on you,” Bart said quietly holding the elderly
Admiral's hand, with his other on the back of the big man's head
looking directly into his eyes. Ben Armitage knew he was looking
into the most beautiful eyes of a truly great and compassionate
man. He saw nothing but empathy and concern for his well-being.
“I'd follow you anywhere on Earth or in Heaven, Captain Langstrom.
I would very much like to experience your world as you see it and
become a part of it,” he replied.
“We'd be downright proud to have you visit wiff' us for a spell,
Admiral,” Bart replied.
“Hey, don't go get'n all grabby-feely with my Captain, Admiral! I
done seen him first. Next thing I know, you men will be off down
by the creek hold'n hands around a campfire sing'n Kumbaya.
Besides, I don't think it's a coincidence his wings and Colonel
Hank's wings is the same color. I got me a feel'n if our Captain's
got his'self a hanker'n to sing duets with another man, it will
only be with Hank Halfablap,” Boynton declared.
“You're a hard man, Boynton, but I can dream, can't I? I'm glad
you're back in the saddle, you old blowhard reprobate,” Admiral
Ben replied.
“Well, it looks like I'm gonna' be in charge again; at least, for
a while,” General Royce Boynton said.
“No shit! It's about God-damn time!” one of the other generals
growled.
“Any other man what wants to challenge me, speak now or forever
hold your peace!” General Royce Boynton bellowed like the bull he
was.
“We don't plan to marry yore' ugly ass, just shut yore' big
jarhead-pie-hole and do your job, Boynton!” another hollered and
everyone laughed again.
“Ah, it feels so nice to be loved and wanted once more,” the
General said and laughed.
Bart and his Cowboy-Angels helped Admiral Ben sit up. Bart helped
him with his shirt and jacket but he just hung his tie around his
neck. He told the Admiral he didn't want him wearing a tie until
he came back to work.
“Are them aliens dead, Son?” General Boynton asked Bart, “They're
beginning to stink,” he added.
“That's their normal smell even when they's alive, Boss, but I'll
check them. I think we done scrambled their brains with them
ultra-sonic dog whistles. These eight Cowboy-Angel-Warriors in the
leather kilts and their bonded mates, them big Watcher-Protectors,
is Master Billy's personal family guards and alien disposal unit,”
Bart said. Their platoon leader is Alpha-Zed. His mate is
Reynard,” Bart said and casually walked over and kissed Zed and
found Reynard's huge arms waiting for him. He gave the handsome
Watcher-Protector a goodly kiss as well.
“Ain't them big critters Sasquatch or Big Foot?” General Boynton
asked.
“Yes, sir, General, we have a couple hundred who are either living
among us or running wild along with the Daddy Long-legs. The
Angel-Warriors and Watcher-Protectors of this platoon are Master
Billy's slaves but not in the sense of the early days of slavery
in America until the Civil War. They volunteered to come to Earth
to become Master Billy's protectors. There is no discrimination on
the ranch. They eat at the same table we do, and I've become quite
fond of them. They are constantly working to improve their bodies
and protection techniques,” Bart explained, “I sent for them
because they specialize in the removal and disposition of alien
bodies,” he added and turned to Zed. “Alpha-Zed, will you give me
a hand to check out these lizards? I'm not sure I can tell if
they're dead, still alive, or just play'n possum,” Bart asked.
Zed followed Bart and pulled each lizard back in their chair and
placed his hand around their throats. He couldn't find one
breathing. “They're dead, but we don't have the knowledge to
resuscitate them. Next time you use sonic-whistles, and you want
to keep them alive for interrogation, only use one or two whistles
to knock them out,” Alpha-Zed said, “It's probably best for you
and your superiors you killed them. They could have done a lot of
damage. Now you must decide what you want to do with the bodies,”
Zed allowed.
“How many of you men would like a fine pair of cowboy boots made
from Shylock and his two ass-wipe's hides?” Bart asked and grinned
wickedly.
“The hand of every General, Admiral, and top military brass in the
room raised their hands in unison. Everyone laughed.
“All right! Let's take care of some business, Gentlemen. What are
we gonna' do with them three alien bodies?” General Boynton asked.
“Do you men realize this is the first time any of us has been
asked for our ideas or opinions on anything in the last five years
under that God-awful smelly Lizard bastard? I say we form a
clandestine investigative branch of our own. We pull strings to
make Hank Halfablap a Brigadier General. We let Hank, Captain
Langstrom, and their men run it. Let them take care of the bodies.
Do you have the room and means to store them in case we need to
prove our case for a separate investigation, Captain?” Major
General Herb Lane of the Air Force asked.
“Yes, sir, we got plenty room, General. We already have one
complete alien body preserved at our ranch in just such a case.
However, he will probably ultimately be taken out of storage to
harvest his hide for our leather master-craftsman to make more
cowboy boots for relatives and friends,” Bart said and grinned.
The men laughed.
“What will we tell the President and them other political hound
dogs?” another General asked.
“Show them videos of their General and his cronies changing from
human to Lizards and call his hand,” Hank spoke up.
“We don't have no video equipment in this room,” General Boynton
said.
“You don't, but ten of us what visited the Daniels Ranch got three
invisible robo-cams on us around the clock for our protection,”
Bart backed up his master. “We can have a DVD of the whole thing
in your hand in thirty minutes,” he added.
“All the more reason to have you work for us. What do you think,
Son?” the General asked Bart.
“Master Gus?” Bart deferred to his master.
“We weren't going in that direction, General, but we will
certainly consider your offer. We must discuss it with my
Grand-nephew, Billy Daniels, and get back to you; or better yet,
you and your boy could come for the weekend and present the idea
to him yourself,” Hank said.
“Billy Daniels is your Grand-nephew, Hank?” Royce asked.
“Yes, sir, his Granddaddy was my twin brother. I was stolen from
my family when I was a baby, and it was never discovered until I
went to the Daniels Ranch. The proof was overwhelming and DNA
don't lie,” Hank said.
“That's why Bart calls you 'Master Gus' sometime, ain't it?” the
General asked.
“Yes, sir, Bart knows about it. I can't keep nothing from my
cowboy,” Hank said and blushed.
“What was your Daniels name, Hank?” Boynton asked.
“Oran Augustus Daniels,” Hank replied
* * * * * * *
Several of the Cowboy-Angels and Watcher-Protectors who responded
to Bart and Hank's call for help returned to the ranch and took
Admiral Ben with them. Bart promised he and the Colonel would join
him as soon as possible, but until then, for him to enjoy the
Daniels hospitality. They would look forward to spending some
quality time with him. Bart was really impressed with Master
Billy's protection platoon. They were no-nonsense professional
Warriors and made quick work of bagging up the alien-scum and
deodorizing the room. They transported back to the ranch shortly
after the other Cowboy-Angels and Watcher-Protectors. Alpha-Zed
and his mate returned in a couple of minutes and handed Bart a
DVD. “Per Master Bart's suggestion, our synthetic intelligence,
Seth, at the Daniels ranch, thought you gentlemen might need this
DVD. Seth compiled and handsomely edited your confrontation with
General Shylock and their transformation into Lizard aliens,”
Alpha-Zed said. Bart thanked him, and after more hugs and stolen
kisses, they departed.
“Here, General Boynton, this is for you to do with as you please.
It's a complete video coverage of what happened here this
afternoon,” Bart said.
“That's remarkable, Son. What are you men going to do for the rest
of the day? I know neither one of you worked up a sweat,” the
General asked and grinned.
“We're going back to my condo and emotionally collapse,” the
Colonel replied. Everyone laughed and agreed with Hank.
“We're in you men's debt,” Royce Boynton said quietly, “I don't
want to let go of you. We have to talk this out between us,” he
added.
“I'm sorry, General, I don't know the words to Kumbaya,” Bart said
and grinned wickedly. The men around the room laughed and
applauded for him.
“Okay! All right! I deserved that! I know when I'm licked. What
are you men doing for dinner?” he asked.
“No plans. We ain't even had time to shop for food. Why don't you
join us, and we'll take you to supper,” Hank replied, taking pity
on the big man.
“I'd be happy to. What time?” Royce asked.
“It's four o'clock now, and we eat early. How 'bout you follow us
to my condo, we'll relax, have a drink, and take you to an
authentic eating place where they serve the food family style. Do
you like Creole Cajun food?” Hank asked.
“I love Cajun food; the spicier the better,” the General replied.
Bart grinned. He knew Monday night was Creole-Cajun night in the
castle. He promised Admiral Ben they would check on him that
evening.
* * * * * * *
Since Hank exposed himself to this fellow officers, there was no
reason for him to pretend to be the wasting away crippled senior
citizen; he decided to drive them home. He did, however, the
Colonel allow Bart to push him in his wheelchair past the MPs so
they wouldn't be the wiser. Later, General Boynton shared with
them the MPs weren't none too sharp. They were more brawn than
brains. There was such a large gathering of the big brass, they
didn't even notice General Shylock and his men never left the
conference room.
It was about a thirty minute drive to the Colonel's condo and Hank
took it slow so the General wouldn't have a problem following him.
As they traveled up the freeway, Bart began to think, with
everything that happened, he hadn't heard from Lem in sometime.
“Has Lem been in touch with you, Master Gus?” Bart asked.
“Only once. I heard him laugh during your speech to that alien
piece of filth. Ain't heard from him since, Son,” Hank replied.
<< Lem! Lem! Are you there, Buddy? >> Bart
sent and kept his channel open so Hank could hear.
<< I'm here, Master Bart. You been busy, and I didn't
want to disturb you, but something's happening. I'm frightened,
>> Lem sent back.
<< What's happening, Little Brother. Tell me! >>
Bart sent with concern.
<< I don't know. The ice shelf is moving and making loud
rumbling sounds. I sensed a large jolt a few minutes ago. I
didn't say nothing because I didn't want you or the Colonel to
get upset or worry about me, >> Lem lamented.
<< We ain't upset, but we are concerned. It's part of
having family, Lem. Have you tried contacting Master Billy?
>> Bart asked.
<< No, I knew he was going to be busy most of the day
and to be honest I feel more comfortable with you and Master
Gus. The love you have for each other is like gorging my body on
a sinfully sweet treat and never being able to eat enough of it,
>> Lem lamented.
<< A secret between us? I feel the same way about Master
Gus, >> Bart sent and blushed. Hank got the biggest grin
on his face. << Tell you what, Little Brother, I'm gonna'
try to tickle Master Billy and see what he's got to say. I'll
keep your channel open so's you can hear our conversation,
>> Bart sent.
<< Thanks, Master Bart. I'd appreciate it. It's getting
worse, sir, >> Lem sent.
<< You still linked with me, Master Gus? >>
<< I am, Son, go for it, Tiger! >> Hank sent
back, and they heard Lem sigh.
<< You got Billy Daniels. Whoever you are, I'm busier
than a cat cover'n up shit right now. Make it quick!
>> they heard Billy.
<< Lem's frightened. He's been riding shotgun with me
and Master Gus this afternoon, he says the ice is shifting, it's
making loud groaning noises and rumbles, >> Bart sent.
<< Of course it is. We're coming after him. We're gonna'
cut him out of the ice. I'm on board one of the Golden Cock's
small ships and we're making a run on the ice shelf. Tell him
not to worry. We plan to extract a large chunk where he's
encased so's we can slowly let it melt. We don't wanna'
accidentally cut him in two or do any other damage to his frail
body. Tell him to stay linked with you and Uncle Gus, and once
he's safely on board, we'll let you know, >> Billy
sent.
<< Lem's linked with us. He heard you, Master Billy.
We'll continue to let him ride shotgun with us, sir,
>> Bart said.
<< Lem? I like that. It's a good name for him. Real
cowboys never have more'n two syllable names anyway. Tickle ya'
later, Brother. I wanna' hear about your day, >> Billy
returned and broke the connection.
Hank pulled his SUV up to the guard gate at his complex and called
the young attendant by name. “Howdy, Jerry, the SUV behind me is
my big boss. Please allow him to pass and his SUV might be parked
in the guest parking next to my condo for the night,” Hank said.
“Will do, Colonel. Ya'll have a good evening now, ya' hear?” Jerry
said cheerfully. Hank drove just a little ahead and waited for the
General. Jerry took down the General's license plate number and
handed him a large plastic covered card with 'Guest' written on it
with another number on it to set on his dashboard. When they were
finished the General followed, and Bart showed him where to park.
Boynton parked and locked his SUV, then went to the rear to gather
a small air-worthy case with civvies and a fine looking pair of
cowboy boots. The General was a native Texan, but he and his boy
live in Virginia to be close to Washington D.C. He set his case
down to close the hatch and Bart grabbed it to carry for him.
“I hope I can use your shower, Son. I reek of that god-awful Lizard
stench. Damnation them bastards stink!” Royce exclaimed with
disgust.
“Sure, our casa, su casa, General Amigo. The colonel's got a
collection of stink-waters to cover the scent and protect your
old-factory glans,” Bart assured him using an idiosyncratic
egg-corn.
“How should I dress, Son?” he asked.
“Western,” Bart replied.
“Good, I need to relax and let my hair down,” the General said.
They went inside and Bart made everyone a drink. After a little
conversation about their day among them, the General excused
himself to clean up and change. When he returned, he was the very
image of a West Texas cowboy, but he didn't bring a hat with him.
Hank went to his closet and got him one of his. It fit him
perfectly, and he looked really good. Both men were impressed.
They had one more drink and Hank announced they should be on their
way to supper.
“Since I'm parked outside you men want me to drive?” the General
asked.
“Naw, sir, it won't be necessary. It's within walking distance,
and it's a fine e'nin outside. Come with us, General. We'll exit
through the garage,” Bart urged him, and the men headed for the
garage.
They stood in the dark garage for a moment. “You want to do the
honors, Son?” Hank asked Bart.
“It would, indeed, be an honor, Master Gus,” Bart replied, waved
his hand and a large gate sprang up.
“Jump'n Jehosaphat! What the Hell is 'zat?” the General asked.
“It's a portal to West Central Texas, General. We're taking you to
the Daniels Ranch for supper, sir. Monday night is Cajun night in
the mess hall. Best damn Creole food you ever ate. We thought you
might like to meet Billy Daniels and his family. All you gotta' do
is walk through. It tickles a little,” Bart said, “Last one
through's a lazy old hound dog,” Bart added and laughed. He walked
through and disappeared.
“Jesus, I'll be more'n happy to settle for being your men's lazy
old hound dog, Hank, if you feed me good and pet me once't in a
while,” General Royce Boynton, the top military man in the country
declared. He turned and followed Bart through the gate and the
other man followed.
* * * * * * *
Earlier the same day ~
Billy returned from the Hill Country Grange Credit Union and Money
Management Facility, cleaned up, and got ready for lunch in the
dinning hall on the ship. The four wise-men ambassadors from the
entity on the Golden Ball ship were there. They were enthused
their master agreed with Billy and them it was time for him and
Master Daniels to meet. He would be pleased to have Billy come
aboard his ship by a gate which he would open for him when he
finished his lunch. Billy must come alone the first visit, and
then he could bring anyone he pleased the next time.
“Oh, yes, I almost forgot. He said you might bring Molly with you
if you like. He didn't explain further, but he's much like you in
some respects, Master Billy. Our host has a penchant for pretty
and intelligent small critters,” Doctor John Mack said.
The dogs were banned from the great dining hall because they were
the worst beggars, and it was difficult for everyone to say 'no'
to them; however, it wasn't doing their health any good. Doc Oatie
blew the whistle on them after their regular checkups, they gained
a lot of unnecessary weight, and they needed to exercise more and
eat less. Before they sat down to lunch, Billy sent one of his
favorite grooms, Thular Rhymer, through a gate to the big house to
gather Molly and bring her to the ship. Molly was thrilled Master
Billy called for her and was anxious to go with the handsome
halfling. She hadn't had a good adventure in a while. She was
becoming bored with her life, and she thought spending an
afternoon off the ranch with Master Billy might be just the ticket
to lift her spirits.
Thular arrived with Molly beside him, and she ran to Billy's arms.
Billy picked her up and made over her. He walked to Thular, gave
him a hug, and stole a kiss, “Thanks, Brother Rhymer, for
gathering Molly for me. I appreciate it,” Billy broke off their
embrace and hollered to the kitchen, “One of you fine cooks back
there, bring my brother, Thular Rhymer, another dessert!” he
hollered.
“Right away, Master Billy. It'll be a pleasure, sir!” they called
back.
“Gee, you didn't have to do that, Master Billy, but I love you for
your thoughtfulness. I hope you and Miss Molly have a great time
on the Golden Cock's ship. I only wish I was going along with you
and Molly,” he said.
<< Bring the halfling and bring me one of them desserts!
>> Billy heard unmistakably and recognized the voice.
<< By your command, Great Sire, >> Billy sent
and smiled.
When the cook brought Thular his extra dessert, Billy asked Kale,
the cook, if he would bring him another dessert in a to-go box as
a sweet gift for Master 7-Stars. “And one of them plastic forks.
I'm sure he must have utensils, but it's best to be prepared for
any circumstance,” Billy said.
“Of course, sir. Right away, Master Billy,” he said and left.
“Big Daddy 7-Stars just sent me a message and asked me to bring
you with us, Thular. Would you like to go?” Billy asked.
“I was serious, sir, I'd love to go with you and Molly. Here,
Molly, help me eat this,” he said and gave Molly a spoonful of the
wonderful dessert. Molly quickly ate it and licked her lips like
she really enjoyed the taste. By the time Thular finished, the
cook returned with the extra dessert in a small Styrofoam carton
with a plastic fork and a napkin in a white sack.
“Thanks again, Kale. Much appreciated,” Billy said.
“Anytime, Master Billy. It was a pleasure, sir,” Kale replied.
They walked to the dungeon area where they usually opened gates
and were accompanied by the four wise-men to see them off. The
gate was already there waiting for them. It was not just your
regular average utility gate to get from one place to another.
This gate was made of solid gold and intricately carved with many
strange but wonderful creatures. It looked like something you
would find in a collection of Catherine the Great's furnishings.
It was ornate to the max with little cherubs and unicorns; satyrs
and centaurs; Bacchus and Pan; twining ivy and grapes growing on
vines; two small naked men blowing trumpets at the top. It was
like something you'd see on a Hollywood movie set for the fall of
Marie Antoinette. The three sojourners stood before it in awe.
Dr. Mack came to their rescue. “Don't feel intimidated, Master
Billy, we all experienced a good amount of culture shock the first
time we saw one of his transportation devices, sir. It is a bit
over-the-top and sort of ruins the mental image of the 'pearly
gates,' wouldn't you agree?” Dr. Mack asked quietly.
“No, Dr. Mack, as long as it works, the design makes little
difference. Are you ready for an adventure friends?” Billy asked
Thular and Molly.
“We're ready, Master Billy,” they answered in unison.
“Come, follow me. We're off to see the Wizard,” Billy said firmly
and the three friends walked through the golden baroque-rococo
gate together.
They found themselves in a giant hall where everything was painted
a hunter green with gold ornate figures and furnishings. Then it
came to Billy, it was a copy of the set from the Wizard Of Oz when
Dorothy and her posse first met the Wizard. Suddenly gas flames
shot up about fifteen feet in the air and startled them. The same
picture of a mean-ass man with a bald head with sharp teeth and
fangs came on the screen. Molly almost jumped out of her skin, and
Thular moved closer to Master Billy. Billy reached down, and
picked up Molly to comfort her.
“Who dares to seek an audience with the great Golden Cock?” the
horrible looking man in the video boomed out.
“Molly, Darling, don't be afraid. This is all a big joke. Be a
brave little girl and go over there where that green curtain is
and pull it back to expose the man behind it making all that
dreadful noise,” Billy said.
“Okay, Master Billy,” she replied.
Billy no sooner put her down, and she ran full out to the green
curtain, grabbed hold of it with her little mouth, and pulled it
to the side to reveal a big, older cowboy behind it yelling,“Pay
no attention to the cowboy behind the green curtain!” he yelled
into the microphone. Then he laughed.
“Shame on you for being such a bully. You liked to scared me to
death,” Molly yelled at him and Billy walked over with Thular
close behind.
“Save me, Master Billy! Save me from Miss Molly's wrath!” the big
cowboy said with a look of horror on his face and a big grin.
“Granddad?” Billy asked.
“No, I ain't chore' Granddad. I just copied him so's you might
feel more comfortable with me. I'm sorry, Miss Molly, please
forgive me. All this was meant as a joke,” he said, “Master Billy
knew from the beginning it was a joke,” he added.
“More like a bad nightmare,” Billy said and grinned. He got a
laugh out of Thular, too.
“And to think, we brought you a wonderful dessert. We shouldn't
give it to you now,” Molly said.
“Now, Molly, remember your manners,” Billy chastised her.
“Will you help me eat it, Miss Molly?” he asked.
“Well, I might have a taste if you care to share it with me, but
just to prove to you it ain't poisoned,” she replied and the faux
wizard smiled.
“I suppose one can never be too careful. Genghis Khan was poisoned
by one of his many wives on their wedding night,” Big Daddy
7-Stars said. He waved his hand and another gate sprang up, but
this one was a plain more utilitarian gate than the one they
walked through to board the great ship.
“Come, my honored guests. We will retire to my quarters to talk,”
he invited.
His private quarters were completely different. It was rather
Spartan but comfortable. There was a great window in the room
where they sat around a table while the faux-wizard ate his sweet
treat they brought him. There was a great panoramic view of earth
from several miles above. “Is that our world down there, Master
Billy?” Molly asked.
“It is, Miss Molly. It's still quite beautiful even after the many
bad things we've done to her,” Billy lamented.
“You mean our Earth is a lady?” Molly asked innocently.
“In a manner of speaking, Molly. Every critter on our planet came
from down there. Some think on the Earth as our mother, and that
would make her a lady,” Billy explained.
“Mother Earth...” Molly pondered, “Makes sense to me,” she
declared.
“What shall we call you, sir?” Billy asked turning his attention
back to the copy of his granddad.
“I'm known by so many names, I don't know what to tell you, Son.
Call me whatever you like – whatever you're most comfortable
with,” he replied.
“You look so much like my granddad. His name was Daws Butler
Daniels. I got me a fine Grand-uncle now with the Colonel;
however, I suppose I could use me another Granddad. But I don't
yet know you that well,” Billy said, “Let me think. We know very
little about you – almost nothing – zero. Zero means Nemo. There
was a wonderful novel by a French writer named Jules Vern I read
when I was a kid, “Twenty-thousand Leagues Under The Sea.' It was
about a submarine and living under the ocean. The captain was
named Captain Nemo. That's what I'll call you.
“It's fine with me,” he said as he offered a bite of his dessert
to Molly. She quickly ate it and remembered to thank him. “You're
welcome pretty lady,” he replied.
“Do you consider yourself a deity, Captain Nemo?” Billy asked.
“I toyed with the idea eons ago, but failed miserably being
humanoid creature's big boss. I don't no more. I'm more of a
caretaker of souls. I gather those whom I consider to have lived
good lives and keep their essence alive. I find I do my best work
when I stay out of the religion or god-part of peoples lives and
try to help when I can. Most of the time, I try to help folks like
you who are idealistic and know how to love, give and take in
equal proportion. Most times it's too difficult for a large group
of people to understand. It's easier to choose one side or the
other; conservative or liberal,” he explained, “Sometimes I can
help and other times I can't. An individual must want and need
help, and then understand how to be gracious if it comes his way.
So far, you and those you gather unto you seem to have the
qualities I most admire, and if I can give you a hand, you may
count on me,” he said.
They talked, non-stop, except for a pee break or walking around
together to stretch their legs. Billy learned volumes from the old
man about his home world and what he was up against. Thular and
Molly curled up on a large divan and went to sleep.
“Do you have a electronic brain on board your ship with this
wisdom you've shared with me this afternoon, Captain?” Bart asked.
“You mean artificial intelligence?” he asked.
“I hate to use that analogy because, Seth, our brain on Captain
Nick's ship might get his feelings hurt. I think he's developed to
a stage he could stand alone as a rather complete and empathetic
entity,” Billy replied.
“Yes, we do have a magnificent silicone based synthetic-entity who
would also cringe and correct you if you referred to him as an
artificial intelligence. He would remind you if something is
intelligent, can reason and compute, it ain't artificial.
Fortunately, he's never applied for citizenship,” Captain Nemo
said.
“Would you allow Seth to download files you approved concerning
these matters we've talked about?” Billy asked.
“Certainly, and in trade, would you agree to allow Seth to upload
the information for the theory and creation behind your
cloud-learning chambers?” he asked.
“Of course! Certainly, but I'm a bit stunned you don't already
have such a handy tool or something similar,” Billy said
surprised.
“You see, for all our advances, we still have our shortcomings.
It's a remarkable advance for your people, and I know it will be
for mine,” Captain Nemo said.
“Are you a monarch, president, or a dictator to your people?”
Billy asked.
“Some might be offended by that question, and if they are, it's
probably because they're deceitful no matter the appellation they
pick. I like to think on myself as a benevolent monarch, but my
people don't work for me nor are they taxed or asked to pay
tithes. They can do pretty much what they damn well please within
socially acceptable norms. There are a few exceptions for better
social understanding, but you're smart enough to understand the
basics of do unto others as you would have them do unto you. That
pretty well covers the lot,” he explained. “To know for sure, you
must come and live among my people for a month or so and decide
for yourself if they're happy. I can arrange it so the time
dilation is the same as Earth to Retikki Prime. You would be gone
from Earth for about thirty minutes to an hour. We have learned
how to bend time and space,” the Captain said.
About that time, one of Captain Nemo's men came into the room.
“It's Emanuel, Boss. The ice shelf containing him is becoming
unstable,” he said.
“You up for a rescue this afternoon, Son?” he asked.
“Absolutely, we're looking forward to having him come live with
us. I think he's already found a home, sir,” Billy said.
“Gus and Bart?” he asked.
“Yes, sir, I don't think they're aware yet, but I'm almost sure
they're in the process of bonding as family,” Billy said and
smiled.
“They would be good for him," Nemo allowed, and turned to his
messenger, "Rangle, ask Penelope to come sit with our sleeping
guests, and if they wake while we're away, serve them refreshments
and show them where to relieve themselves,” he ordered his
messenger.
Billy followed Captain Nemo to the bridge of the huge craft, and
it was most impressive.
“You got any ideas how we can get him out in one piece without
harming what's left, Son,” he asked.
“I know'd you got them smaller ships. Deploy four to laser cut a
block of ice with him inside. Bring the block on board and let it
begin to melt. You can accelerate it if you wish. It probably
would be best to get him out as soon as possible so's we can
restore and refurbish him as quickly as possible. Do your smaller
ships have lasers?” Billy asked.
“Yes, strong ones, so be careful on the ship you pilot,” he
replied.
“You would trust me with one of your ships, Captain?” Billy asked.
“If you can't trust your cowboy buddy, who can you trust?” he
asked and grinned. At that very moment, Billy could swear Captain
Nemo was channeling his real granddad.
The Captain sent out five of the small ships. Four would do the
actual cutting of the ice and the fifth would level the cut to
make the block of ice small enough for the grappling beam from the
big ship to grab and lift it into its docking bay. Billy was
piloting the fifth ship along with four other experienced pilots.
The instruments were a bit different from the ones on Nick's ship,
but not so much he couldn't handle it. Everything went like
clockwork until it came time for Billy's ship to make the final
cut, and when it was made, rather than the cut block of ice
bobbing to the surface for the main ship to latch onto and bring
it on board with a grappling ray, it began to sink below the ice
shelf. There was no more ice beneath it to catch it or slow its
descent. Billy checked before he left the big ship if the smaller
ships were seaworthy, and he was assured they were.
He piloted his small ship outside the shelf and dived into the
water to chase the ice block as it slowly sank deeper and deeper.
Billy finally managed to maneuver his small craft underneath the
large block of ice. He managed an easy contact and parked the hull
of his small ship against the bottom of the ice block. As soon as
he made contact Billy started to push it to the surface, but one
of his shipmates pointed out it would probably be like trying to
thread a needle to get it through the same small hole it was cut
from. Billy ask his copilot where the closest open water was, and
he replied about half a mile. Billy called for a second ship to
push the block to open water as they added the buoyancy to keep it
moving upward. Billy was surprise when his co-pilot told him all
four ships were on the leeward side making contact, and on his
command, they would push the block to open water. They worked as a
finely tuned instrument and managed to get the block to open
water. Billy's ship continue pushing it to the surface but the
others joined him, and it surfaced in no time.
The main ship zapped the large block of ice with a powerfully
strong grappling beam and slowly raised it into the cargo bay. The
five ships returned safely to the docking bay, and when the crews
disembarked from their ships, they ran cheering to Billy to give
him a big hug and many stolen kisses for his heroic piloting. He
assured them they were just as heroic as he was, he couldn't have
done it without their cooperation, but they were hearing none of
it. He was their hero for the moment, and they sang his praises to
their master, Captain Nemo. The old man was proud of his pilots,
but he was even more proud of Billy. He knew he picked a winner to
support.
It hardly took any time to melt the block of ice and remove Lem.
Billy immediately placed his hand on the small boy's head and
disconnected all pain routes to his small frail body. He put Lem
in a twilight sleep as they wheeled him into a sterile operating
theater. Both Billy and Captain Nemo removed their clothes and
went through the sterilizing rays to clean them of any possible
contagious bacteria or viruses. They slowly and painstakingly cut
the rags from Lem's frail body and when they were done, they
carefully bathed him with another sterilizing bath so they could
work on him without fear of contamination of any kind.
They worked on him for several hours, and he began to respond
quicker and better than anyone imagined. Captain Nemo provided the
equivalent of the healing rays of the ethos Billy's posse of
Cowboy-Angels usually provided for him, but these rays were much
more concentrated and powerful, and the healing, refurbishing, and
reconstruction took considerably less time. It finally came down
to Lem's face and how he would look. “I think his body has
produced enough blood you might taste a small sample to read his
DNA to recreate his face in his own image,” Captain Nemo said.
“No, I don't want him looking like he did. If I am to accept
responsibility for this boy, and I have used my skills to make
sure he survives, I have the right to claim him as one of my
family. I will be his surrogate godfather and see to his
upbringing. He will become a part of my Grand-uncle's family. I
have both my Uncle Gus and Bart's DNA on file in my body. It will
be the first time I ever attempted something like this, but I plan
to mix them together to achieve an approximate image of what Lem
would look like if he was the product of their union,” Billy said.
“A bold but worthy undertaking, Son. It's also a damn good idea,
and I agree, since you have accepted the responsibility, you have
the right to guide his life. A similar appearance will surely
strengthen the bond between the boy and the men, and probably
cause Bart and your Uncle Gus to bond even stronger,” he said.
“I don't know how them two could bond any tighter, Captain, but
it's worth a try,” Billy said, and they shared a laugh.
They were finished by about five in the afternoon, but they
actually spent much more time due to a dilation exchange. Lem came
around, and they let him sit up on the side of the operating
table. For a ten year old he was tiny. His skin was almost
translucent. He was as white as fine porcelain, but little Lem had
the most piercing blue eyes; the same color as his new brother,
Bart Langstrom. Billy was sure Randy was much taller than Lem, and
he knew his halfling, Thular, was twice his size. Captain Nemo
said he thought there might have been some natural protective
mechanism which automatically shrank his tissue to preserve the
boy's inner core more successfully. Lem threw his little arms
around Billy's neck and sobbed his heart out. He was not cold
anymore, he was alive, and his hero was standing before him,
holding him like he was the most important thing in his life. Lem
was ready to start living again.
“Can I take him home with me this e'nin, Captain?” Billy asked.
“Absolutely! I expected you would. You might have to carry him. I
think it will take him a while to learn to walk again, but with
your family, he'll have more help than he can imagine,” Captain
Nemo declared.
“I think we might need a diaper or two until he gets control of
this body,” Billy said.
“We'll get him covered, Son,” the Captain said, “He will have to
learn to talk again, too,” he added.
“That's all right. There's no hurry. We can communicate mind to
mind with him,” Billy said.
Billy felt a tickle and watched Lem smile for the first time,
<< Thank you men for saving my life. I feel like I been
born again, >> he sent to the men.
“We'll take it slow, Son. You'll be fine from now on,” Billy said.
After they diapered Lem, Billy picked him up and carried him to
the room were Thular and Molly were still asleep. He woke them and
told them about their new family member. They were supportive and
welcomed Lem. Lem was stunned by Molly's beauty, she could talk to
him, and he could hear her in his mind. He never saw the likes of
her before, and he was thrilled. He fell in love with Molly.
They said their goodbyes, thanked Captain Nemo for his
hospitality, walked through the gate and were back in the dungeon
in the castle on board Captain Nick's ship. Everyone came to meet
them and Lem was overwhelmed by the variety of shapes and sizes of
the good folks living aboard Captain Nick's ship. He recognized
Bart and the Colonel immediately, and held out his little arms for
Bart to take him. Bart gently took him from Billy and was amazed
at how light he was. He weighed almost nothing. Hank got a big
grin on his face when General Royce Boynton leaned over and
whispered, “Congratulations, Daddy. It's the boy you always
wanted. From the looks of him, if I didn't know better, I'd bet
three months salary he was the product of you men's genetic
information,” the General said and grinned.
“I wouldn't take that bet, General. You have no idea what these
men can do,” Hank replied.
“That may be, but I know one damn thing for sure – I can't let go
of you men. I knew there was some reason I kept in contact with
Langstrom all them years, and it weren't out of gratitude or pity.
I sensed a greatness in him and you, too, Hank, what's undeniable.
Your lives have come together to create something much greater
than the sum of your parts, and that alone is formidable. Me and
my boy must become a part of you and your new family,” he said.
“We'd be glad to have you and Roy join us, General,” Hank replied.
“When I'm in civvies, call me 'Royce,' Hank,” the General said.
“As you wish, sir, and thank you,” Hank replied.
End of Chapter 92 ~ Seek Him What Made Them Seven Stars
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08/15/2015
01/16/2017