The Chardon Chronicles: Season One -- The Harvest Festival (11 page)

“Soul?” Tracy arched an eyebrow and looked at
Morgan. “When did
we
ever go to church?”

Morgan added, “yeah, I’m not the religious
type either.”

“Well, like I said, life’s weird and life’s
complicated. Churches and souls ain’t got a lot to do with each
other in my experience.”

The kids both nodded.

“And the idea that we’re just animated
meat--the materialist view of human life--is currently the dogma of
the Empire. It’s our modern mythology.”

“So what about The Rebels?” Morgan asked.

“So, just as there are men who attempt to
harness these entities to gain power, there are men and women, heck
even plants and animals, who fight to keep the planet free and try
to break the grip these beasts have on our world. Hell, some of
these entities are benign. The struggle’s been going for thousands
of years. I’m sad to say we’re not doing as well as I’d like.”

“You said fight--is it a war?” Morgan
wondered.

Robbie waggled his hand. “Most of the wars
have actually been struggles between these entities and their
servants. History’s full of Empires expanding, clashing, collapsing
and being replaced with yet another machine of dumb
domination--countless lives wasted and lived on behalf of
collective hallucinations. The rebels are a subtle group, a totally
disorganized set of people.”

“Well, if it was organized, how would it be
different than the Empire?” Tracy said. “Makes sense.”

“Bingo. We’re all over, even working in the
Empire from the inside, just poking holes, trying to get people
out
. There are writers, actors, people in TV, movies,
teachers, professors, engineers, philosophers, musicians all doing
their bit.”

“Wow.” Tracy said.

Robbie sensed she was overloaded. “Well, I
know it’s a lot to take in all at once, so let’s just leave it at
that for now.”

“It’s getting dark, I probably need to head
home. Could I get a lift?” Morgan said. He took his notes and his
bike and put everything in the back of Robbie’s truck. As they
pulled out of the driveway, a black helicopter flew overhead.

A bull-like private security guard was
standing at the gate to the observatory park. Two guards drove
through the park on four wheelers looking for any straggling
hikers. Guests began to arrive. The guard checked the plates on the
car and checked the guests’ ID against a list he had on a tablet
computer. He had to turn several park visitors away with a thick
southern drawl, “The parks’ closed, read the sign.”

As darkness fell, the parking lot lights came
on automatically, then were shut off to keep the event cloaked in
darkness. Groups of men stood around outside in the evening air,
and sipped mixed drinks, beers and wine. A soft reddish orange glow
emanated from LED bars that were positioned in a circle around the
gathering.

The attendees travelled from all over the
region. Almost all of the men had a day job, a front for their
activities in the Brotherhood and they only knew a handful of
others. The compartmentalization helped maintain secrecy, and
control from the top, and protected all the men from infighting and
preying upon each other. None of the men at lower levels knew who
their hidden superiors were.

There was an unofficial, unspoken but
extremely firm hierarchy in the Brotherhood. Currently, the core of
the leadership was stable and on good terms, but from time to time,
conflict broke out in a struggle for domination and control of a
multi-billion dollar network of industry, trade, and crime.
Sometimes the struggles manifested as war between nations, as
conflicts that drove enlisted common men and women to kill and die
for hallucinated causes.

Judge Ralph and the Sheriff mingled with the
crowd. Men from as far away as Indiana and Western New York were
present. “I guess this is the Great Lakes region?” Chuck said and
looked around. The crowd kept growing. All the men who
arrived--just men so far--were dressed in dark suits. The two
Israeli operatives recognized them and walked over.

Saul shook hands with the two. Yuri nodded
and sipped his drink. “There was a gathering like this in
Connecticut a few months ago, except on the grounds of a
huge
estate.” Saul offered. All of them felt an odd tension
between their natural human curiosity and the need to maintain a
healthy ignorance about the activities and structure of the
Brotherhood.

“I’ve never been to anything like this,”
Chuck offered.

“Me neither,” said Ralph.

A few men emerged from the observatory
building. They were holding microphones and were dressed in
colorful
deel
and held primitive looking musical
instruments. A wan spotlight illuminated them from above. The light
formed a faint cone in the dust and insects that occasionally flew
through. The ring of orange-red lights began to flicker slightly
like a campfire.

They began singing in an unusual style. Each
men could simultaneously produce multiple tones with his voice.
They stomped and played the instruments in time to a beat. They
sang a low growl as a bass line, and a rhythmic, horse-riding
melody floated from somewhere in their heads.

“Outstanding!” Ralph was beaming. Saul nodded
in agreement.

Chuck raised an eyebrow, “and weird.” Yuri
acknowledged him.

Three big flat screens behind the men started
showing images. The central screen was a live feed from the main
telescope. The unmistakable shape of the planet Saturn took up most
of the display. Unlike the spectacular images from the Hubble Space
Telescope, the live image was slightly blurred by the atmosphere
and the extreme magnification caused the image to vibrate from
minute tremors, and the only colors visible were greens and bright
whitish yellows.

Ralph put his hands up and swayed back and
forth at the image as did a few of the other men in the crowd. Saul
slapped him on the back and nodded and smiled at his enthusiasm.
The other screens were in sync with the musical performance. The
monitors were huge 4K displays and they showed a film of horses
thundering over the steppe. It was like gazing through a window to
the other side of the planet.

“Spectacoolar!” Saul laughed.

A distant rumble like thunder came from the
West. Spotlights that had been setup in the field erupted into the
sky and large work lights illuminated the ground with blue-white
light. Heavy thumping helicopter blades became discernable, then
the black form of the chopper could be seen against the dark sky.
The craft landed in the center of the big field.

The ground crew opened the doors. Four men in
military garb jumped out. They had M-16 rifles draped over their
arms so the barrels were pointed at the ground. A small contingent
of the Brothers took it upon themselves to form a greeting
committee and walked out to the field. Jerry was one of the men.
They waited for an overly long time, until a tall, slightly bent
man carefully walked down the chopper steps one by one. He walked
on a cane and stopped briefly to chat with the contingent. He shook
hands with each.

His hand was slight and he didn’t grip at
all. His hair was thin and white and slicked back from his bony
forehead. His face was long and angular. His suit was deep red
almost black, and the pupils of his light gray eyes were dark and
large.

“Welcome to Ohio,” Jerry said. The man just
looked through him. Jerry involuntarily sniffed in angry response
at being ignored. The man’s gaze focused on him briefly, then he
looked away and smiled slightly and made a small gesture with his
hand. The men with the guns stepped between him and the greeting
contingent and the group started to walk slowly toward the
Brothers.

The entire gathering fell quiet as the old
man made his way across the field. He stopped to look at
wildflowers that lined the path. He noticed a king snake among the
stems of blackeyed susans and he poked his cane at it. The snake
slithered off into the field. He plucked one of the flowers and put
it in his lapel.

The Brothers watched in silence as the tall
man walked through the gathering. Any glad handing brothers who
attempted to get close were waved off by his guards. The man
stopped under the television and gazed at the Saturn display for a
long time. He turned around and began to address the crowd. Rather
than speak through the microphone, he talked in a quiet measured
tone of voice.

His voice was smooth and polished, an accent
all its own, though a Brooklyn twang occasionally tinged his words.
The gathered men strained to hear him as if each word was gold they
were panning from the background noise of leaves rustling and geese
calling out from a distant pond. The men at the back of the crowd
could not hear him at all.

“How fitting to visit Ohio. Cleveland was so
important to the Brotherhood, so very important. In many ways its
like the Cuyahoga River is a tap root of this vast tree,” he
gestured to the crowd, “The headwaters are so close.”

“I’m paying a visit because
this
body,” he motioned to himself, “is reaching its limit. In past
generations, unplanned successions caused chaos. At best, that’s
bad for business, and at worst, it could mean the end of all
things. He fingered the black eyed susan in his lapel.” and walked
around.

Judge Ralph had a front row place. He was
resisting a strong urge to throw himself to the ground and bow.
Saul’s eyes were like saucers. He was rigid and resisted a display
of any reaction. To the old man, the crowd was just a blur of dark
suits and staring faces.

“Many of you are involved in the succession
plans, but of course you don’t know it. And you should not wonder
if you are. All the work we do is important.The smallest task
conducted for the Brotherhood might be the very lynchpin the very
key to make it happen...” he slowly shook his finger. He was
finished with his speech and gestured to the guards.

They led him into the observatory building
and he disappeared. A red glow slowly grew in intensity and
illuminated the door. A piano player started playing some American
standards, and women wearing sleek dresses walked out and started
mingling with the crowd.

“Well boys, it’s time to get some!” Ralph
smiled as a lovely young Asian girl took him by the arm.

The gathering turned into a drunken bash. The
old man remained out of sight for hours. As things wound down one
of the guards caught Jerry’s arm and said, “You can talk to him if
you’d like. If so, go over there.” he pointed to the chopper.

As Jerry walked away from the crowd, he
tucked his shirt back into his slacks and straightened his tie.
When he was alone, he said out loud, “I knew this was coming.” He
felt the same rush he had when he was first selected for the
Brotherhood. “Life’s one long interview for the next job...” he
said to the sky.

The guards were waiting for him by the
helicopter. “In there.” One of the guards pointed. Jerry bounded up
the steps. The guard followed him in. The spotlights on the ground
relit as the engine spun up. He stood in the entryway. It was
spacious for a helicopter, but he still had to stoop awkwardly. The
two guards onboard were inscrutable. Jerry started to step for the
main cabin. “Wait.” the man stopped him with a solid shove to the
chest.

“Ouch, alright.” Jerry grabbed a strap that
was attached to the wall as the chopper wobbled into the air. It
climbed steeply up and around the field in an ascending spiral,
then returned to hovering over high above the lit landing pad. The
spotlight bathed the interior of the cabin in light. “Aren’t you
gonna close the door?” he pointed out.

One of the guards grabbed Jerry’s hand from
the strap by the thumb and twisted his arm behind his back. The
guard shoved Jerry toward the door before he could even process
what was happening. As adrenaline rushed he grabbed for the door
frame, but only managed to slap at it as he sailed out. His knee
struck the staircase and he started flipping end over end as he
accelerated toward the center of the field far below. The spotlight
illuminated him as he fell, cartwheeling and grabbing at the air
for 1500 feet. He only had about 10 seconds to come to terms with
his life and his fate until he hit the ground at over 100 miles per
hour. The chopper swooped back into a descent. The old man walked
past the mangled corpse, boarded and left.

The men who were outside to witness the event
were stunned. As the chopper roared away the silence of the country
night returned. Chuck murmured, “Fuck me.” They all looked at each
other with new suspicion. They contemplated all the small
indiscretions they made in recent months, and thought about any
missteps and tracks left uncovered. The guards collected the body
and cleaned up the scene as the crowd dispersed.

When Sunday rolled around, Keith got out of
bed feeling sore from the run. Chloe was already awake. He had a
puzzled look on his face for a few seconds as he wondered why she
was up.

“Oh, new car girl gets up early, but no car
girl sleeps like a vampire…” he smiled.

“Yes, sir. Whole new world of
possibilities.”

“No doubt about it, but before you explore in
depth, we’ll go do some quick driving lessons.”