by Mark Goodwin
“Low energy use and speed of verification will make the global mark easy to implement in a worldwide system.”
Lillian smiled. “I think I speak for most of the planet in asking that you please roll out this exciting new currency sooner rather than later. Can you tell us when we can expect it to go live?”
“The backbone of the system already exists within Omniscience. We have prototypes of the processors which will use biometric data so there’s no need for a card to be issued to account holders.
“We can integrate the new system with existing banking institutions as early as tomorrow and the Bank of International Settlement will be fostering backup databases as well as the hardware for storage available to developing countries who may not have access to local banks like you and I. All they’ll need is a phone and an internet connection.”
“An internet connection is a tall order on some parts of the planet,” Lillian said.
“It is now, but we’re already working to solve that. We have a fleet of drones, which will provide 5G service to the most underserved populations in the world. I and my colleagues from Silicon Valley will be footing the bill for that one. So no one can complain about having to pay for a service they don’t use. We believe access to knowledge is a human right and not just a privilege for a fortunate few.”
“Talk about riding in on a white horse.” Josh finished his coffee. “That sounded like an infomercial straight off QVC. I’ve never heard such a scripted interview in my life.”
“So that’s it?” Nicole sat next to Emilio on the couch. “Everything is going to get back to normal? Does that mean we can all go back to Tampa?”
“Oh, no,” Josh said. “Normal is gone forever.”
Stephanie shook her head. “I’m confused. When he started talking, he and some of his buddies had an idea of what could possibly fix our problem. By the time he reached the end of the interview, he was talking about a program that would begin implementation tomorrow.”
“If you feel confused, then the interview was a success,” Josh replied. “Anyway, this was a done deal long before the interview started.”
“Everyone is clambering for a solution, so no one is going to oppose him. People just want to get their lives back.” Emilio sat on the couch with his coffee cup.
Josh stood. “We should get going. We’ve got a lot of driving ahead of us.” He kissed Stephanie on the head. “You and Micah stay around the house today. By the time we get their vehicles, go to Shelbyville and get back, it might be late.”
She nodded. “I have a feeling that today is going to be a good day to watch the news.”
“You’re probably right. But try to read between the lines. This whole rollout is scripted. The idea that they’re making it up as they go along is a façade.”
“You mean like the Patriot Act?” Micah asked.
Josh lowered his brows. “What are you talking about?”
“Well, maybe not the actual law, but all the provisions of the law providing for domestic surveillance, they were all proposed under Reagan and Bush 41. Don’t you think it was kind of fast how they had it signed into law a month after the attacks? The government never moves that fast.”
“They were motivated to push it through,” said Josh.
Micah lifted his shoulders. “Or, it was already in a drawer somewhere, just waiting for the opportunity to nullify some of those pesky little privacy laws.”
“Follow me.” Josh waved for his son to come with him to the master bedroom.
“Am I in trouble for having an opinion?”
“Not at all.” Josh worked the combination on the gun safe. “You may actually be on to something with that.” He took out one of the new Glock 23 containers and a box of shells. “Show me how to load it.”
Micah smiled as he opened the black container and took out the new pistol. He quickly loaded one of the magazines to capacity, slapped it into the butt of the pistol, and racked the slide.
“What are the rules?” Josh asked.
Micah replied, “Don’t point it at anything you don’t want to shoot, know what’s beyond your target, and keep your finger off the trigger until you’re ready to use it.”
Josh handed him a holster. “Keep it with you around the house when I’m not here.”
Micah’s eyes grew wide. “It’s mine? To keep?”
“It’s yours. I’m going to give you the combination to the safe. Lock it up whenever you leave the house.”
“But that’s when I need it the most!”
“You shouldn’t be leaving the house unless you’re with me.”
“What if I have to go somewhere with Mom?”
“She has her concealed carry permit. Try to talk her into bringing it. But if she says no, don’t push it, and don’t carry. Locked up in jail is the last place you want to be when society is melting down.” Josh looked his son in the eyes. “I need you to promise me.”
Micah nodded and looked at his mother walking into the room.
“What are you guys doing?” she asked.
“I bought guns for you and Micah.”
“You bought a gun for Micah?” Her eyebrows snapped together, as if to show her displeasure at not being consulted on that decision.
“He needs it. So do you.”
“I already have a gun.”
“You have a .25. I wouldn’t trust that thing to stop a raccoon. You need something bigger.” Josh handed her the second black case.
She opened it and took out the pistol which was identical to Micah’s. “What am I supposed to do with this?”
“Keep it with you, especially when you leave the house.”
“This thing is humongous. It weighs a ton,” she objected.
“I tried to get you a smaller model, but they were sold out. Still, this isn’t the largest one either. Micah can’t carry when he leaves the house. I need to know that you’re protected when I’m not around. If a couple of drug addicts will jump me in a parking lot, what do you think they’ll do to you?”
The corners of her mouth turned down. “Can’t I just carry the small one?”
“No. You need something that will stop a man.”
“You could carry both,” said Micah. “Then if we get in a scrape, you can take the small one and hand off the big one to me.”
“Don’t push it!” She looked at her son with scolding eyes.
“That’s actually not a bad idea,” said Josh.
“I’ll carry the big gun if we go out.” Her voice sounded reluctant.
“Good. I’ve gotta go.” Josh took out his M-4 before closing the safe.
“You got more rifles?” Micah looked inside before the door shut. “Is one of those for me?”
“We’ll talk about it when I get home.”
“Josh!” Stephanie protested.
He kissed her and smiled. “We’ll talk about it when I get back.”
She huffed and walked toward the bathroom. “I thought we were supposed to be moving to Kentucky to be safe.”
“It’s still safer than Tampa. Ask Nicole what it was like when she left.” He carried his rifle out to the living room where Emilio was ready and waiting. “Where’s my sister?”
“Getting ready.” He motioned toward the guest room.
Josh knocked on the bedroom door. “We’re going to a gas station and then to pick up the vehicles. I doubt the paparazzi are going to spot you on this particular road trip.”
“Ten minutes,” she called from the other side of the door.
“Make it five,” Josh replied.
CHAPTER 14
Beware of false prophets, which come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly they are ravening wolves.
Mathew 7:15
Josh looked at his sister. “We’ll go get your car first, then stop by and get Emilio’s truck on the way back through. That way, we can conserve fuel and all stay together in a convoy.”
“That’s fine,” she said.
Josh pulled up to a pump sout
h of Lawrenceburg, Kentucky. He strategically parked in such a way to block the view of the attendant so he wouldn’t see Josh filling gallon water jugs with fuel.
“Cash only.” Nicole read the handwritten sign taped to the pump.
Emilio took out a roll of hundred dollar bills. He handed five of them to Josh. “Here you go.”
Josh shook his head. “I’ve got it.” He opened the door and exited the pickup.
“It’s $14 a gallon. By the time you fill up your truck and the jugs, you’ll be well over $500. I insist.” Emilio shook the bills at him.
“I said I’ve got it.”
“Thank you,” said Nicole.
Josh closed the door of the truck and walked inside. An older man wearing overalls and a John Deere cap watched Fox News on a small television. Josh placed six hundred dollars on the counter. “I’ve got some cans in the truck. It’s good to see a filling station with gas.”
The old man didn’t look up from the television but took the money off the counter. “It’s good to see a customer with cash.”
“Is there a problem with the credit card processing network or something?”
“I don’t reckon.” The man glanced over at Josh. “But this fella is about to usher in the mark of the beast.”
“Mark of the beast?” Josh remembered that the head of DHS had said the new system would be characterized as such.
“Yep. I ain’t havin’ nothin’ to do with it. You won’t either if you know what’s good for you. I’ll sell the rest of the stock I have for cash, then I’m closin’ the doors. I’ve had this station since 1998, but all good things must come to an end.”
“The mark of the beast is like a chip implanted on your hand or forehead, isn’t it?” The church Josh used to attend in Tampa never talked about end-times events, so the only knowledge he had concerning them was from the occasional references he’d heard here and there, mostly from secular sources.
“Maybe it is and maybe it ain’t. But this here is a one-world cashless currency. They’re even calling it the mark. I bet this devil, Lucius Alexander, is the son of perdition himself.”
“Son of perdition?” Josh was unfamiliar with the term.
“The anti-Christ,” the old man clarified.
It sounded over the top to Josh, but so did most everything else he’d heard since the DHS briefing a little over a week prior. “Okay. I’ll be back for my change when I’m done.”
Josh couldn’t shake the eerie notion brought into his mind by the old man’s comments. He pumped gas absentmindedly into the tank of the truck until it was full. He then began filling the 20 one-gallon jugs feeling confident that the old man was far too preoccupied with the news to give him any flack about using inappropriate fuel receptacles. The total came to $588. He went back inside to collect the change which the owner already had counted out and waiting for him.
“Thank you. We’ve got a road trip and would like to stop by on the way back. What time do you close?”
“Eight o’clock, or when I run out of gas. Whichever comes first.”
Josh hated the thought of losing the relatively-nearby resource. “You know, I’d imagine plenty of other people are thinking the way you are. If you still have credit or cash in the bank that you can’t access, keeping the station going a little longer might allow you to siphon more resources out.”
“Maybe so, but ain’t hardly nobody around here got no more cash. Even if they do, they can’t afford $14 a gallon.” The man seemed irritated at the situation.
“Have you considered bartering? You’ll need other things besides cash to get by.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know, bullets, food, whatever.”
The old man stared at Josh for a while. “You might be on to something.”
“You’d be providing a valuable service. Perhaps even when you eventually can’t get gas without going through the new system, you’d be established as a trading post.”
“Okay. Yeah. I’ll mull that over.” The man nodded. “I tell you what, if you come back through here and the shop’s closed up, come back around in a few days. Even if I put in an order now, it might be five days before the truck shows up. They’re all on backorder. We ain’t getting’ nothin from them Arabs right now. Only gas we got comin’ in is from US and Canadian oil fields. And they can’t keep up, even at $14 a gallon.”
“Okay, I’ll see you when I see you.” Josh waved and returned to the truck.
Once back on the road, he asked his sister, “Can you try to find a new station on the radio?”
“Sure.” She scanned through the channels until she landed on the local WNN radio affiliate. “Is this one okay?”
“Yeah, that’s fine.” Josh kept his attention on the road.
The announcer said, “Up next after the break, from San Francisco megachurch Faith Fellowship, Pastor Carl Jacobs will be joining us to talk about his new book as well as provide some insightful commentary about the ongoing global crisis. Stay with us, and I’ll be right back.”
“That’s not news.” Emilio reached over to change the station.
Nicole interlaced her fingers with his to circumvent his action. “Can’t we listen? Please? I like this guy. I read his last book, Be the Best You.”
“I’m good with it if Josh is,” Emilio withdrew his hand.
“Yeah, sure. But don’t think this guy is a pastor. I’ve heard him speak. He’s a motivational guru who keeps more of the profits by having a 501c3. Plus, Tony Robbins would have a hard time getting everyone who attends his seminar to pony up 10% of their paycheck week after week.”
Nicole sounded defensive. “Yeah, well, I’d go to his church. At least it’s inspiring, not like that place you and Stephanie used to drag me to.”
“That guy taught the truth.” Josh glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “You’d go to Carl Jacobs’ church because you know you wouldn’t have to worry about him getting on your case about living with your boyfriend.”
“Ouch!” Emilio leaned forward to look past Nicole.
She turned to Emilio. “Don’t mind him. He’s been passive-aggressive since we were kids.” She turned back to Josh. “That old guy might have taught the truth, but his delivery was so boring that you didn’t bother to keep going either, did you?”
Josh frowned. “We got busy. Stephanie opened up the juice bar, Micah had a lot of Saturday night games that ran late, life just gets overwhelming sometimes.”
“Anyway, like I said, we’re not living together.” Nicole pouted. “The interview is starting, can we just listen?”
“Be my guest.” Josh waved his hand at the radio.
“Pastor Jacobs, welcome to the Tyler White Show.”
“Tyler, it’s so good to be here, but please, call me Carl. That’s what everyone else calls me.”
“Sure thing. First of all, thank you for making time for us. You were on The View this morning, and that was right after the announcement of the new global economic system. That’s a tough act to follow. Your publicist must be in meltdown mode. But you’ve just started the whirlwind tour to promote your new book. I believe you’re on the Today Show tomorrow, and GMA the day after that—you’ll be on Oprah this week.”
“Yes, it has been crazy, Tyler. But I’m not the slightest bit disappointed. You know, one of the key principles I write about in my new book, Enter Faith, is that everything happens for a reason.
“And let me clarify real quick since we’re on the radio, the book title is Enter Faith, as in enter into a state of belief. It’s a play on words, which is obvious to folks looking at the cover on a television interview, but perhaps less so on radio. Certainly, the idea of interfaith worship, interfaith with an I, is a central theme of the book, but I also focus on the pathways these various belief systems utilize to bring devotees closer to their understanding of God.
“But back to what I was saying, the world is reeling from all the chaos. What better time for a book that will come alongside and hel
p people make sense of it all? Even in the wake of this morning’s announcement, people who should be joyous and filled with excitement, are instead finding themselves fearful and afraid.”
Tyler White commented, “I can only speak to some of the things I’ve read on Twitter and Facebook, but you’re right. Many people seem petrified by change. Allow me to play the devil’s advocate if you will. One of the things I’ve read on Twitter is that people think the new global currency fulfills some kind of biblical prophecy. I’ve even read such slanderous remarks as to imply that Lucius Alexander is the anti-Christ. Now, here’s a man who quite possibly has the key to getting us through this mess, yet he’s having his name smeared by these people whom I can’t describe any other way than to call them lunatics. What is going on in these people’s minds?”
“I understand your frustration, Tyler, but I want you to understand that these people, most of them anyway, are looking through a clouded lens. They’ve had this idea of some boogeyman who is going to take over the world and bring about the end of days. Many of them have been taught this nonsense by their pastors who have cut and pasted parts of the Bible. They have interpreted sections of Scripture very literally which were never intended to be.
“Let’s take your show, for example. I could cut and paste words from your program and play back a recording of you talking absolute nonsense. I could string together words and phrases to the point where I’d have you saying things like chocolate milk comes from brown cows, and the moon is made out of cheese.”
“Wait, are you telling me those things aren’t true?”
The host and guest both laughed at the corny joke. Carl Jacobs continued, “My point is, I’ve been to seminary, I’ve studied the Scriptures, and Lucius Alexander is doing God’s work. Take it from someone who knows about these things. Don’t get caught up in all the lies. Sit back and allow yourself to feel joy over this occasion.”
