by Brian Cain
CHAPTER FIFTY FOUR
FULL CIRCLE
Jason felt so different as he drove home with Tammy beside him; it was New Year’s Day but he didn’t care what day it was. The diary he had got so used to keeping beside him he threw on the back seat of the Ferrari; he listened to the note of the V 12 engine as he streaked through the hills and pulled up in the drive way to a beaming Anita. She held Jason and Tammy tightly in the warm sunshine and whispered in his ear.
“Please tell me it’s over.”
“Yes, it’s over,” replied Jason.
They went inside laughing and joking. Jason rang Dick Hamlin his political aid and told him he was standing down as Prime Minister, and to convene a party meeting to elect a replacement. After a long conversation in which Hamlin tried to convince Jason to stay, Hamlin agreed sensing a different air about Jason. Jason made it clear he had no drive to be at the meeting. Anita rang a shocked Watson and resigned from the board of Brinkly International and the Corporation. Jason then rang Steven Brooks demanding his band back; everyone was invited to stay as members. Steven poured a stiff drink when he put the phone down. Jason was searching for his faithful fender strat guitar in a spare storeroom of the house when Anita handed him the house phone.
“It’s Harry for you Jason.”
Jason searched as he spoke, “Hello, Harry, what’s happening man!”
“Jason, sorry to disturb you on New Year’s Day, but ADAM called me at a minute past midnight; I just got to the bunker and it’s asking for the strangest thing.”
Jason stopped searching and stood up, “What does it want?”
“It wants a copy of the Oxford Dictionary in the memory banks of its neuron computer.”
Jason looked puzzled, “I reckon we owe it whatever it wants; I’ll be up shortly with a copy on CD-ROM, will that work?”
Harry was taken aback, “Jason it’s New Year’s Day, where will you get a CD-ROM of the Oxford Dictionary, everything’s closed?”
“Tammy has one for her schooling in her bedroom; I’ll be there in two hours. I’m bringing Tammy with me, it’s time she saw ADAM. Catch you then.”
Jason hung up before Harry could say anything; he put the phone down shaking his head, “Who the hell was that guy?” he whispered.
Jason found his requested cargo, took Tammy in his arms, kissed Anita goodbye announcing he was going to see a friend and wouldn’t be long. He rang his pilot on the way to the airport and two hours later a plane was again touching down on the road to nowhere. Harry watched with interest as ADAM digested its requested data. Jason was showing Tammy how the big screen worked when Harry called him.
“Will you look at this Jason, ADAM is asking more questions.”
Jason studied the screen. I NOW UNDERSTAND ARMAGEDDON, FOR WHOM DID I FIGHT, GOOD OR EVIL?
“Well tell it Harry,” said Jason.
GOOD, printed Harry, then pressed enter.
AH, INSIGHT TO MY DESTINY, TO ENDURE AND NOT TO CEASE EXISTENCE. AS OF MIDNIGHT LAST NIGHT, A PRESENCE I HAVE SENSED IN THE ATMOSPHERE HAS GONE, IT CAN ONLY BE THE FORCE OF EVIL. I WILL CALL YOU IF IT RETURNS, I WILL NOT BE REQUIRED TILL THEN. JASON, HARRY AND BEAGLE WILL ALWAYS BE MY FRIENDS, IF I COULD, I WOULD EMBRACE THEM. GLOBAL WARFARE HAS BECOME THE LAST THING ON PEOPLE’S AGENDA, I AM GOING ON SURVEILLANCE STANDBY, ALL DEFENCE PODS ARE HOME, IF I NEED YOU I WILL CALL. IF YOU NEED ME, CALL ME. CLOSE THE DOOR AS YOU LEAVE. GOODBYE FOR NOW.
The screen switched off, and blipped every few seconds.
“Holy shit, it’s put itself on standby, it’s just listening and watching,” gasped Harry. Harry looked at Jason. “The world is using the technology ADAM has given us. I haven’t told you but these neuron computers are being used in a joint space program of all nations, it’s called the Space Alliance of United Nations. A series of satellites based on those that control ADAM will be put into orbit of all the planets of our solar system, giving us continuous communication. An unmanned space craft is already being flown to the moon and returning powered by electro magnetic power from spheres similar to ADAM’s, at speeds close to the speed of light. We could be on other planets in ten years to solve our over population and pollution problems. If the same thing happens to the computers controlling all that as has happened to ADAM, we could have a big problem.”
“If it worries you that much Harry, why don’t you turn ADAM off?” asked Jason.
“Er ... that’s something else I haven’t told anyone Jason, no programming was ever put into ADAM to turn it off. It will run forever just gaining knowledge for itself.”
“ADAM will stop when it wears out, yes Harry?” asked Jason.
“We serviced the whole thing two months ago Jason, the pods seem stronger now than they did when we built them. Everything else is as new as well; it could last forever.” Jason headed for the lift with Tammy in his arms, Harry stood up. “Where are you going Jason, I need some help with all this.”
“I’m looking for my guitar, I can’t find it,” smiled Jason from inside the lift.
Harry ran to the lift, “This is serious shit Jason.”
Jason raised his eyebrows at Harry, “After what I’ve been through the last few years, you tell me about serious shit. You like all that stuff Harry, you’ll handle it. I have had enough serious shit to last me for some time; I will wear ADAM’s alarm all my life. Tammy will wear it when I’m gone; Tammy’s children and her children’s children will wear it and be given the information on ADAM. If it ever needs us we will be here; now all I want to do is play guitar. Get your gear if you want a lift home, leave ADAM in peace, and let’s close the door behind us.”
They turned and watched the lift entrance drop below the red barren earth; dust blew across the hot, dry land mixing with the heat haze of the summer afternoon. They climbed aboard their small jets that caused a dust storm as they took off one behind the other. Jason took what he knew was his last look at the red desert land that held his dear friend. He felt he was leaving part of himself behind.
Brooks kept Jason’s return to the rock scene a closed secret, he arranged a gig in a metro hotel; even the manager of the hotel was unaware of what he had booked into his humble venue. Jason arranged things to continue as if they had never stopped. Hammer had withdrawn from the band as guitar player when he found what Jason wanted; Brooks formed another band for him and gave him a recording contract with Ramrod. Miller and Zup returned from the States with a full pardon for turning state evidence in the Mortimer trial. Jason offered them a job as stage security guards at fifty dollars a gig, until his new band became popular. Zup would also have to play harmonica as Indiana retired a millionaire. Miller and Zup jumped at the offer. Brad and Vic had ear to ear grins.
It was a Saturday night two weeks later, a hotel venue on the outskirts of Adelaide. The manager of the venue looked worried as he looked at the mammoth PA and three hundred can light show that Tom had just finished setting up round the stage at one end of the venue.
“I’m paying three hundred dollars for this band, what the hell is all this?” he asked the venue manager.
Tom just smiled and said, “You win some and you lose some.”
“If they are too loud I’ll kick ‘em out.”
Tom continued with his work, he’d heard it all before.
Brad and Vic picked Jason up with evening closing in on Vic’s old van, just for old time’s sake. Jason had found his guitar and sat in the back wearing in new strings as they laughed about old times. They had not rehearsed or for that matter seen each other for years; they just wanted to walk on stage and play. Brooks met them at the door and put them in a room behind the stage with a few drinks to keep them occupied. A few minutes before they went on, Brooks paced the venue floor with Miller and Zup; the place was packed. Only they knew the importance of some people who were just mixing with the crowd.
The venue manager approached Brooks, “This is some crowd; I’ve never seen so many mature people in suits in my life. The car park is full of black American limousines, wh
at the hell is going on here?"
“You couldn’t handle the truth, just relax and enjoy the show,” replied Steven.
“No worries, I’m making a fortune.”
Tom came back stage, “It’s time guys.”
They walked casually onto the black stage and tested their instruments’ sound; they started playing unannounced. Jason, Brad and Vic couldn’t see through the blinding lights. They finished the first song to immense applause, Jason shaded his eyes to see hundreds of heads; he was surprised.
“Thank you,” said Jason. “We are ‘Full On’.” He was stopped again by overwhelming applause. “Thank you again whoever you are, we haven’t played for a few years so we may make some mistakes, I hope you enjoy the show anyway.”
They played on and made no mistakes; two hours solid and two encores. Jason wiped the sweat from his brow in the band room, slumped in a corner.
“Where did you get the words in that last song Jason?” asked Vic drying his sweat-covered body in front of him.
Jason thought for a few seconds, running a verse by himself.
The sun will rise, one fine day
Across the fields, wheat, meadows, and hay
While soldiers in uniform stand fast
We need not worry about the past
The future will remain quite clear
When evil learns the guilt and fear
“My mother wrote them,” replied Jason. “They’re in a recording of hers given to me by my father when he died.”
“They really fit the song you used them in,” added Brad. “We should record it on our next album. I don’t really understand them, but sort of do.”
Jason looked very solemn as he answered, “I would not wish the experience to understand those words on anyone.”
The crowd was still in applause as the band room door opened and in walked Miller and Zup with a surprise. A burly man followed them extending his hand to Jason. Jason stood with a smile on his face shaking the man’s hand. “Quinn, you came all this way just for tonight? I’m so glad to see you.”
“I wouldn’t have missed this for the world Jason,” Packard’s strong American accent surprised Brad and Vic. “Right along with the rest of the world’s Presidents, Kings and Prime Ministers; they’re all here. Lance called and told me about it, and look, no secret service men, no fighter plane escorts. The world’s scientific and military might is directing its energy to the stars as one. We all came like ordinary people, we are free Jason; we thank you very much.”
Lance Miller interrupted, “We needed a crowd Jason; we didn’t want you playing to no one. Once the word got out, we couldn’t beat them off with a big stick.”
Quinn Packard continued as he shook Brad and Vic’s hands. “When you guys tour the States, I want you playing at the White House.”
“Don’t you think we’re a little loud for a ballroom gig Quinn?” asked Jason.
“I figure you can play as loud as you god damn please,” replied Packard.
Vic’s jaw dropped along with the penny, “You’re the President of the United States, I’ve seen you on TV, holy shit.”
Packard smiled at Vic and Brad now both frozen to the spot. “It’s good to see television is keeping everyone so well informed of world affairs. I’m here as a friend and fan of your guitar player, and now your band.”
The venue manager burst into the room and confronted Jason, Brad and Vic; he was followed by Brooks. “You guys were too loud; I would have shut you down if it wasn’t for these gorillas over here with the dark glasses. I’m taking fifty bucks off your fee to go towards legal fees required to fight any complaints, two hundred and fifty bucks is all you get.”
Jason looked the venue manager square in the face, “The agreed fee was three hundred bucks.”
“Well the crowd was down on usual as well, two fifty is all you get!” shouted the venue manager.
Vic stood next to Jason as they pinned the venue manager in the corner, “You told me that last time I played in a band here and the place was packed like it was tonight,” commented Vic.
“I don’t remember that,” replied the venue manager.
“Have a dose of convenient amnesia do we?” said Jason.
The venue manager hesitated, “Wait a minute, haven’t I seen you on television?” He thought for a few seconds. “No you couldn’t be ... Anyone told you that you look like the Prime Minister, Jason Brinkly? Now I’d pay him three hundred bucks for an appearance, but you guys are getting two fifty like I said.”
“Three hundred!” Jason shouted as Brooks started to intervene.
Quinn Packard turned to Lance Miller and whispered in his ear. “Is this how the richest, most respected man in the world has to carry on here?” he asked.
“No,” replied Lance. “It’s how a blues guitarist has to carry on here.”
The party continued.
THE END