Sentinels of the Cosmos Trilogy (11 page)

Joe’s workspace was undecorated containing only a
photo of Joe with his arms around an absolutely
enormous Saint Bernard and a small trophy under the
picture, shaped like a large dog. Although the cubicle
was the largest in a long line of cubicles it still was
incredible small. Behind his desk was a cabinet
covered with small models of trucks. One of them
was a larger model of a fire engine. Joe was middle
aged, bald in the front and white at the sides. He had a
large, protruding gut, but a rather nice looking round
face although somewhat pasty from never going
outside and the glare of the ruthlessly unflattering
fluorescent lights turned Joe an almost ghastly green.
Ivan tried to sit down. The room was very cramped
and Ivan’s knees butted up against the front of Joe’s
metal desk.
"Do you mind if I set these here?" Ivan asked trying
to set his briefcase in the chair next to his.
“That’s what chairs are for,” Joe responded.
“My name Ivan Kolinski.”
“Yes, you mentioned that, Hi, Ivan, is that Russian?”
Joe inquires.
“Yes,” Ivan returns. He appears very insecure and Joe
is somewhat surprised by his timidity.
"We have a lot of Russians in New York now," says
Joe, trying to put Ivan at ease.
Ivan smiles but says nothing and there is an
uncomfortable pause.
“What can I do for you?" asks Joe.
"Excuse me Joe, I very nervous," Ivan said.
"Am I your very first sales call?" Joe asked.
"Yes, I take sales job to sell envelopes," Ivan said.
"So let me see what you’ve got. I use a hell of a lot of
envelopes; who do you represent?" Joe asked.
There is suddenly the sound of a ringing phone. Joe
slightly taps the left side of his head and answers,
“Yes, I can’t talk right now, bye.” He then taps his
right temple.
Ivan is interested and confused; he stares at Joe
surprised.
“Ivan,” he says, “haven’t you seen this, it’s the latest
thing, an implanted phone. It’s the size of a pin head
and they install it right into your brain. It works great.
You tap the left temple to answer a call and you tap
the right temple to cancel the call. You bend your
head forward to turn off the phone completely. Look
at this manual.” He takes out a manual around two
inches thick, saying, “I got this off the Topple web
site, it’s really simple once you’ve got all the moves
down. I still have problems with the sounds in my
head - it's sometimes confusing with all of my turning
thoughts. I also hate the subliminal messages they
implant in my sleep. Sometimes I wake up with urge
to go out a buy a new car or I feel I need more
insurance.”
“Interesting,” Ivan responds, “Can you have it
removed?”
“Only after one year, that’s how long my service
contract is for,” says Joe.
“Very interesting, “Ivan says.
The phone rings again. Joe taps the wrong side of his
head “Oh, that’s so frustrating, I just killed the call.”
The phone rings again, still flustered, he taps the
wrong side of his temple again. “Damn piece of crap,
I just cut the phone call off
again
,” Joe continues,” It
really works much better than this Mr. Kolinski.”
Ivan is clearly amused, “I’m sure it does; American
technology.”
Joe is angered, “Are you making fun of us?”
Ivan quickly tries to correct the damage. “Oh no, I
think American’s very clever. You invent jazz music
which I like very much, and there is Walt Disney.”
Joe is somewhat pacified, “Well, let’s get down to it,
how can I help you?”
“I sorry, didn’t mean to offend,” Ivan says sheepishly.
“You must be very glad to be in the United States.”
“I am,” Ivan agrees.
Ivan's eye began to twitch. He wants to kill Joe. He
imagines in his mind what Joe would look like with
an ice pick protruding from one of his eyes. "I got out
just in time with wife and family," said Ivan forcing a
smile.
"Yeah, must have been rough living with those
commie bastards," says Joe.
Ivan's eye began twitching uncontrollably.
"Is something wrong with your eye?" Joe says.
"Yes I tortured by Russian Intelligence, eye very
sensitive to light, especially fluorescent light," Ivan
said, evoking sympathy.
"Let me see what you've got, Ivan?"
Ivan handed him an envelope, saying, "How would
you like an envelope that your customers would look
forward to licking, something that would make them
pay their bill as soon as they got it? Just lick the
envelope I gave you."
Joe licks the envelope and then licks it again and
says, "It tastes and smells just like fried chicken," he
says, licking his lips.
"Pretty good eh? We make paying your bills culinary
experience," Ivan boasts.
"It’s terrific, Ivan."
Ivan hands Joe another envelope and he licks it
eagerly.
"This tastes like a Burrito," Joe says, almost drooling.
"So Joe, you get big point, and you order any flavor
from our list of thirty flavors." Ivan boasts.
Joe appears excited and says, "Yes, we can offer
different flavors to different areas of town. In Spanish
Harlem we can offer taco flavor and the upper east
side we can offer lobster bisque," Joe speaks as if it
was a revelation.
"Exactly; how intelligent of you to see potential
immediately,” says Ivan. You know Joe; all I want is
test, just one district so you can see it works. We
don't have to start real big; maybe just 2 zip codes to
prove people would look forward to paying bills.
They never know what flavor would be next."
Joe has been getting progressively more excited and
says, "Great idea!"
Ivan goes for the close, saying, "You know we
provide all envelopes for test free. Here is price list
and brochure from Culinary Enterprises; please, you
think about and I call you tomorrow. Here are few
extra envelopes if you need them to show around
office."
"It looks good Ivan, let me run it past my boss; you
know just respect and all that; he eats out of my
hand."
Joe gets up from his desk, looks down the hall and
checks to see if anyone is listening outside of his
cubicle and says, "Let me ask you, would your
company be interested in buying a couple of
pedigreed dogs from me personally?"
Ivan is again amused "dogs? You sell me dogs, what
kind of dog, eh?"
"They are very good dogs, Yorkshire terriers with
papers and everything. Let's say $1500 per dog." You
could see the greed in Joe's eyes, and Ivan could only
see his eyes dripping blood."
"I no need dog!" Ivan exclaims.
"Sure you do Ivan, if you want to make this sale; you
want three dogs, the best!" Joe said as if questioned.
"Alright, I take dogs, and we have test, just like
Russia."
Joe is very excited and says, "Call me tomorrow and
we’ll arrange everything."
Joe shook Ivan’s hand as Ivan's eye twitched again
and his smile turned slowly to a sneer from ear to ear.
The phone rings in Joe’s head again; Joe taps the
correct side this time saying, “Hello, I’m sorry, I’m
having trouble with this new phone.” He loses the
call, the phone rings again, “Shit, Oh, not you, I don’t
know how to use call waiting, damn, I think that’s my
arm.” Joe flexes his arm and says, “Hello – can I call
you right back?” He taps his temple again. “Hello, oh
damn, I lost everybody. Ivan I’ll talk to you later, I
have to deal with this phone issue.”

*****
Ivan left and returned to EOJ headquarters. Charles
was pacing in his office as Ivan entered and said,
"Ivan, we have real problems, Sam is alive, and I
want him dead!"

“OK, I take ca
re of it - you never told me you wanted
him dead, you said, ‘scare him a little.’ I scared him a
little, scared is scared and dead is dead,” replied Ivan.
“I told you to pop the bastard,” Charles is angry.
“You didn’t!” Ivan insists.

“I most certainly did
, Charles pauses a moment
saying, “Well maybe I didn't, I can't remember,” and
he snickers to himself.
Ivan was not happy with what Charles had said or the
way he said it. He had killed men for lesser insults in
his military days, but he knew he was in a new
country and he had to work himself into a higher
political position; then he could kill whomever he
wished. He liked the United States; he immediately
understood that politicians had to be corrupt and what
they had to sacrifice to get the positions they held.
They were criminals with idealistic personalities.
That doesn't mean they couldn't do good. The
problem has always been ‘good according to whom?’
He understood this and he planned to take full
advantage of it.
"Do you want me to take charge of it personally?"
Ivan asks.
"Yes, of course," Charles replied.
Charles saw the devil himself in Ivan, a man with no
conscience about killing and at moments brilliant. He
was a dangerous weapon and he didn't like using him,
but he needed to move quickly for his plans to work.
"Did you handle the sales job?" Charles asked.
"Of course, I am good American salesman, we will
have test, I sure of it," Ivan boasted, “plus three
dogs.”
Charles asks quizzically, “dogs?” Then he sees Ivan’s
big smile and continues, "Good, Sam doesn't know
what we’re up to and he won't do anything stupid.
He's going to try and make a deal with me for himself
and Chase. He knows it's the only chance they have.
So we'll wait, and when they come you'll kill them,
kill them both."
"Good, killing them make me feel better, killing help
me relax," Ivan reflected.
"I'm so happy for you," Charles put a large cigar in
his mouth and lit it up saying, “Every man needs a
hobby.”
Ivan and Charles were heading to the microbiology
lab having a conversation. At that moment Sam was
about to come around the corner and face them. He
heard Charles and Ivan talking. He stopped and edged
along the wall until he was within earshot, and
listened.

“He must not leave this building alive. He must not
reach Beneizen or Chase,” Charles hisses to Ivan.
“I understand, you know I have too much to do. Kill
Sam, kill a few million people in New York City,
assume new responsibilities here, train new Guards,
maybe I need assistant, maybe I need raise,” Ivan
grins slyly.
Charles smiles, saying, “You want an assistant killer,
maybe a mother who needs a part time job? Maybe
the job is too much for you, maybe I need someone
else.”
Ivan replies, “Charles you look grim, you need
vacation, you are wreck, and maybe you get off my
case, maybe you program one of Guards to do some
of this work for me, eh?”
“I can’t, Guard actions leave a trace; they were built
to leave a trace. Just kill him before he leaves the
building and finish your test,” Charles walks away
down the hall.
Sam does not move. He is no more than a few feet
from Ivan. Ivan stands in the hall for a moment. They
somehow feel each other’s presence. Ivan does not
move and he listens. Sam then moves out into the
hallway to confront Ivan.
“What are you doing Ivan?” Sam says.
“I just carry out orders,” Ivan replies, “I’m glad it’s
like this, I love confrontation.”
“What are you planning to do in New York?” Sam
asks.
“You were at meeting, you know most of what I’m
going do, you just don’t know how, when, or where,
and it doesn’t much matter, because I'm going to kill
you,” Ivan says as he takes out a switch blade ice
pick, presses the button and it opens with a snap.
Ivan lunges at Sam who easily moves to the side,
asking, “Are you going to use Bumba?”
“Maybe!” Ivan says as he lunges again.
“You should think again about killing me especially
here, are you sure this is the place for it?” chides
Sam.
Ivan lunges again and misses badly. Sam quickly gets
out of the way and says, “What unholy alliances have
you and Charles formed?”
Ivan slashes at Sam again, “What alliance, I hate fat
pig?”
“You know Ivan you are rather stupid, as a matter of
fact you are dangerously stupid. I built this place, and
you and Charles think you can just walk in and take it
over, this is my home.” says Sam.
Ivan instantly throws the ice pick at Sam who catches
it in midair just before it plunges into his eye. “You
missed Ivan,” he says with a smile.
“You think so” Ivan replies and out of his wrist flies a
small dart that hits Sam in the arm.
“You’re dead,” Ivan snarls.
Sam sees the small dart sticking into the shirt in his
arm and immediately takes it out. He looks up at Ivan
and then falls to his knees. Ivan looks on amused.
“I thought it would be harder to kill you, bye - bye
Sam, I have a city to kill,” Ivan walks away.
Sam pulls up his shirt and tries to find the puncture
mark. He looks at his arm carefully and sure enough,
very near the elbow is a small pin prick. He places his
finger just before the small hole and presses very
hard. He then rises and limps into the microbiology
lab, goes over to a small refrigerator, opens it, and
looks for a small bottle. He finds it and quickly
injects himself with the fluid. He sits down in a chair
and slumps back. Slowly he falls into a deep sleep.
Ivan walks down the hall with a jaunt in his step back
towards Charles’ office to give him the news. Charles
is sitting at the end of his desk talking with Senator
Lee.
“Excuse me, I not know you busy,” Ivan opens.
“No problem, I was just updating Senator Lee. He’s
very much in favor of our little test,” Charles
responds cheerfully.
“I just want you know, that little problem has been
taken care of,” Ivan smiles gleefully.
“Good Ivan, thank you for letting me know,” he
responds.
“You welcome,” said Ivan as he leaves... He is happy;
he can’t help his need for praise. It’s what motivates
him; as much as he hates Charles he needs him for
validation.
After Ivan leaves, Senator Lee says, “I have only one
question for you Charles.”
“And what would that be?” Charles asks.
“Who is giving us our directives, is it the President?”
“Yes, that’s right,” Charles responds.
“And who is giving the directives to the President?”
Lee asks.
“The world committee, you know all that?” Charles is
growing impatient.
“I‘ve heard rumors that the President is a Guard
Charles, and I know he has not met with the world
committee in months, all I want to know is what's
going on,” Lee probes.
“Are you insane? That’s impossible, ridiculous,”
Charles responds incredulously.
“I’m glad to hear that Charles.” Lee says. “Thank for
your time, oh, just one last thing, why are we testing
this virus in the United States first?” Lee asks.
“I don’t know for sure, but I suspect that if we lead
the way other countries will be willing to support
doing the same thing in their countries. Also, if it
happens in the United States first, the world could not
blame us when the technique is applied in other
countries; you know it’s important to have a
scapegoat. Also, it allows us to get rid of a little
trash,” replies Charles.
“I thought this was to look like an accident,” Lee
says.
“It doesn't matter what it looks like as long as it
happens. The conspiracy theories will go on for
decades. No one is interested in the truth, everyone
wants to make money. The press will make a fortune.
Books will be written and it might even inspire a
movie, but you always have to have the downside
covered, always!” Charles boasts.
“What if you don’t have the downside covered?” Lee
is concerned.
“Lee, I’ve been doing this for 20 years, and it always
looks like an accident, or someone else’s fault, you
never get caught or admit wrong. I learned that in
business. We will ‘spin it’ as we see fit. We have
marvelous marketing and PR departments. We have
the best government that money can buy,” Charles
says cynically, adding, “You know, Lee we all spend
50% of the time covering up the 50% of the time we
screwed up. Just leave it to me, Robert. It all works
beautifully.”
Lee laughs, “Very true, I’m glad you’re in charge,
Charles, I don’t have your lack of conscience, and
you need that to be really successful in politics, but
just one more question for a slow-witted, aging
senator like myself. What's to stop someone from
discovering the virus on the envelopes after this has
all happened; what if someone tests the envelopes?”
Charles laughs, “Because of technology. This is a
smart virus, like smart phones or TV. You can
program it with Wi-Fi. We can turn it on and off.
This is just a very small test. It's the latest and
greatest! I expect it to kill less than 100,000 people.
We'll blame it on the water pipes. I know they’re
doing a lot of work in those areas. We'll plant
something for the press. You know someone pushed
the wrong button. Robert, I like you, but you’re too
smart for your own good, someday that could get you
in a heap of trouble. I have to go now.”
Charles shakes hands with Senator Lee, and waddles
off down the hall. Lee stands for a moment and
watches him. He was truly bothered by the
conversation and he was unable to shake off a feeling
that something had happened to EOJ. Lee’s family
had been in America from before the Revolutionary
War and was raised to deeply appreciate liberty and
freedom and the Constitution of the United States,
which he considered the greatest piece of literature in
the history of mankind. He knew Charles was up to
no good but, he just didn’t have the power to stop it.