Beast Machine (7 page)

“
Their names were,”
sniffled Ethel, “Aster Granzella, Sylvester Heston, Florence Larke,
and Isaac Po. That Po is, I assume, the same Po Julius relayed
information to...” Ethel struggled to pronounce the names but
Caroline knew the names. She knew the names for over four years.
The strange names had not affected her for the past four years but
began to dig into her heart.

Caroline closed her eyes
tightly. “Get your kids to safety and contact that friend of yours
now. I need to get my boys to safety before anyone comes for us. I
was told to immediately get the boys out of New York if any other
person uttered those names.”

Ethel stood up, wiped her
face clean with her sleeve and said, “I’m right on it, Caroline. I
will see you in a few hours.”

The two hugged each other
with little emotion, save the tears running down their cheeks. They
knew that their lives were over, but still had work to do to save
the lives of a few others that they loved.

---

“
That’s the last night I
saw my mother,” said the man. He licked his lips and finished off
the brown liquid in his wooden cup. “That’s the last I saw of Ethel
Rosenberg as well, in person at least. I relive that night of
eavesdropping every night and in every dream. I just can’t shake
that conversation from my mind. It reverberates through me at all
times.”

“
What happened to the
Rosenbergs? Grandpa Wendell? Grandma Caroline?” the son asked with
tears welling in his eyes. His perfect teeth were nearly piercing
through his bottom lip causing a rough bruising.

“
The Rosenbergs were
electrocuted years after Julius returned from the war,” said the
man grimly. His kind eyes became dull like his mothers did that
life changing day. “They were given a trial, but they were dead the
minute Julius began spying for the Soviets – the military always
knew he was a spy, yet let him spy for years. I didn’t understand
why until years later. The entire trial was to keep everyone in the
country in check about communism, even though the U.S. government
and military didn’t have a legitimate problem with communism. They
just wanted Americans to have an enemy. I doubt the Soviets had a
problem with democracy, either, but both governments used these
differences as reasons to hate one another; to inspire hate in
their citizens; to inspire loyalty; to inspire more war with one
another. It was as if they were colluding to have war. But I
digress about that point.

“
Ethel’s own brother,
David, ratted her and Julius out in order to save himself, though
he was never in any true danger like Ethel and Julius. David had
been offered the same deal by the strange man, but was too
terrified to pursue any spying. David was a cowardly person and let
the government – and any agents of The Flagship – off the hook from
the public eye. I can never forgive him for his cowardly acts.” The
man balled his fist and gently tapped the arm of his
chair.

“
The pictures of their
deaths are burned into my mind like a terrible, festering
cattle-brand. It stings so much, son. Their bodies were still
smoking hours after their deaths and it was said that it took over
three tries for Ethel to die.” The man rubbed a few tears from his
eyes. “Why are humans so barbaric to one another?”

The son stood up and
consoled his father. “I’m sorry you had to go through that torture.
When will mankind learn to love one another?”

“
My mother and father were
killed as well but weren’t even granted a trial,” said the man
through tears. “They were found dead in their home about a week
after my brother and I left. We were told it was just an unlucky
accident by a gun-happy criminal looking for a score but I knew it
had something to do with the man with the syringe on his neck. He,
or one of his cronies, killed my parents.”

The man scratched furiously
at his neck where the syringe tattoo supposedly laid on the man
that visited the Rosenbergs many years ago. His neck had scars from
the furious scratches laid upon him during times of steep
frustration, depression and desperation.

For a second time, the son
brought a new bottle of brown liquor over to his father. This time
without the man asking to do so.

“
Thank you, Gaston,” the
man said. “Are you ready to begin your journey to seek revenge on
those that have wronged your family?”

The son stood there
emotionless for some time. He was processing everything his father
had just told him about his grandparents, the Rosenbergs and this
man with a syringe tattoo on his neck. It was difficult to
understand it all.

“
What do you mean?”
questioned the son.

“
I want you to find those
monsters and end what they’ve done to mankind,” said the father.
His tears had dried and his emotions had dropped; his voice was
somber and firm.

“
How am I supposed to find
this man, find that group? I’m just a kid!” said the son. “What are
they even called?”

“
The Flagship.”

“
Yes, The Flagship. How am
I supposed to find them?”

The boy began to look
around at the quaint home his father and he had been in for many
years. There were few luxuries provided but the boy loved it as
much as he loved his father. They would build furniture together,
tend to the garden together, and read to each other every day. This
revelation by his father shocked the boy to his core.

“
I’ve written many notes
during my time trying to scour the country for that man but have
only found information on a few of The Flagship members. I want you
to take these notes of leads, instructions and drawings, and finish
my work. Destroy these animals with the same amount of mercy that
they had for my parents. The guilt has been building – it has
become unendurable. Do it for me, do it for your grandparents,”
said the man firmly. “Do it for humanity. These monsters want to
control humans like rats. You may be the last hope humanity has to
save itself.”

The man’s eyes widened like
his mother’s once did in a moment of terror and sorrow.

“
Why can’t we do this
together?” said the son as tears dribbled down his cheeks. “Why are
you telling me this so abruptly?”

“
They have keyed in on me
and I am weak. Once all the safehouses I’ve propped up around the
country have been searched, they will come here. It will only be a
matter of days. I don’t want them to get you too. My only source of
information has confirmed that The Flagship will come for me and he
has refused to relay information to me. Completely cut me off. My
time is dwindling and nearly done.”

The smoke billowing out of
the broken stack was slowly falling to the ground, surrounding the
house in a fog of misery.

“
No! I am staying here!”
screamed the son. “How can you do this to me? How is this fair to
my life?”

“
You’re going to my
brother’s home in Arkansas and will be raised there with his
children and family. He never wanted to help me with this endeavor
but I can’t blame him.”

The son sat down on the
floor and covered his face with his hands. He cried silently into
his hands. His simple life in his simple home was over. The boy
knew he would have to transform his childish ways into a stern
manhood quickly – unfairly as it was for his father to do this to
him he knew this would be his life until this mission was
accomplished.

“
Please, don’t do this,”
whimpered the boy in a last ditch effort. “I love you,
father.”

“
Please keep those notes
safe, and read from it daily,” said the father, crying with his
son. “Once you get to my brother’s home you will assume his changed
last name.” The man knelt down and put his hand on his child’s
back. “I love you so much, son.”

The two left the rickety
house at dawn the next day. They travelled by foot to the nearby
town, roughly an hour away, where the man’s brother would be
waiting. No words were spoken, just deep sighs and heartbreak. Once
in the town, they sat on a bench next to the only stoplight. None
of the residents of the town were awake just yet.

A brown sedan pulled up to
the stoplight and honked three times. Gaston looked at his father
one last time and his father nodded.

Gaston quickly walked over
to the brown sedan and entered it. The driver drove off as soon as
the door slammed shut. Gaston took his final look at his broken
father sitting on a bench.

The driver quickly uttered
to Gaston, “You will no longer go by Gaston. You will now be known
as Huxley Obelis. No more talking.”

Chapter 7

She’s Daunting

“Hitbear, what continent do
you believe we should make our moves on first?” asked Gora as she
slid off-brand wheat bread into her mouth. No butter, no jam – just
bread. The lack of a topping mildly repulsed Hitbear, a beast that
often splattered his meals all over his furry chest even when
trying to be delicate. Crumbs fell all over Gora’s body.

“
Well, considering we’re
already in North America, we should begin here,” stated Hitbear
while still intensely studying the maps. Gora tried to introduce
digital maps to her strategist but he broke the computer screen
when he placed a thumbtack into a location. Even with information
uploaded into Hitbear during his creation in the Beast Machine, the
application of that information proved more difficult.

“
I won’t break another
screen I promise!” said Hitbear after breaking the screen, but Gora
wouldn’t let him touch any parts of the computer for some
time.

“
No computer until you
learn to fully control your body,” relayed Gora.

Owlbert had the same
troubles with technology. Gora gave the owl an electronic tablet to
look through various libraries to find books that he may need to
read, but Gora neglected to think about how an owl with sharp
talons would even begin to meddle with an electronic tablet. The
tablet’s screen was scratched to bits and Owlbert threw it at
Hitbear’s head, resulting in another tussle between the
beasts.

“
But shouldn’t North
America be last since we will definitely have a place to hide out
once it is all over?” questioned Gora, now with several pieces of
topping-less wheat bread in her mouth. Crumbs were piling up on her
shirt and in any crevices on her face. Hitbear
shuddered.

“
Only one scientist on my
kill list for North America works for the military making new
weapons; though he may already be close to death because he is in
his late 70s. I hope he’s not dead because that shithead needs to
die painfully. His cruel words about me and lack of conscience are
bothersome.” Her mumblings with food in her mouth began to slightly
irritate Hitbear as well. Irritate him like an itch he couldn’t
scratch. “He has been known to do the new weapon tests on refugee
children. That’s only a rumor I’ve heard. I have never been able to
find out much about him outside of conferences and
lectures.”

“
I understand why you would
want to begin with that tactic, but by beginning here, one of the
toughest continents militarily in the world, we can surprise them
since the military will undoubtedly be on high alert after the
first or second deaths of high-profile scientists, no? Or the
military won’t give a rat’s ass because they’re just scientists,
not politicians or foreign heads of state – that are in their
control.”

“
Ahh. I will leave the
strategy to you, Hitbear,” as Gora finally swallowed enough wheat
bread to last her the week. “It’s what I created you for, after
all!” She smiled approvingly. Gora stood up and all the crumbs from
her bread snack fell to the ground.

“
Thank you, creator,” said
Hitbear as he returned to strategizing which city the group should
go to first. “Thank God, she finished her meal,” he
thought.

Gora slowly stepped over to
her other sentient creation, who was on the other side of the
laboratory. Owlbert, like Hitbear, was intensely studying but with
books instead of maps. These books were found in Gora’s personal
library, and they were all uniquely informational and downright
bizarre. Books with exhausting titles:
Aztecs: How the Jaguar Warriors Are like Today’s Mixed Martial
Arts Fighters
by Jennifer Stipen,
Beautifully Unique Sparkleponies
by Chris Kluwe
, Genghis
Khan: Did You Know He’s Related to Kublai Khan?
by David de Jan,
The Native Americans:
How A Sports League Tried To Promote Racism
by Daniela Snively
, Changing The Way
We Look At Eachother: How Blind People Are Better Than You
by Misty McDaniel,
Sojourner Truth: Baddest Lady Ever
by
Michelle Oblinoski,
Flushing the Pain Away:
How the Toilet Saved Mankind
by Kameron
Mo’Tube
, Where Art Thou: Finding Amelia
Earhart
by Pricilla Pointer, and
Jimmy Hoffa: Champion of Hide and Seek
by Jimmy Hoffa.

The books had very little
to do with science and more to do with the current cultural
perceptions that Americans, and other nationals, held. Owlbert
wanted to know how humans, specifically Americans considering he
was in the United States of America, perceived the current world.
He was also deeply interested in history, hence the books on the
Aztecs and Genghis Khan.