by Dina Rae
Everyone clapped. The general continued his speech.
“So we come together tonight to celebrate our existence. First order of business as you all know is the name of this new world. As Shakespeare once said, ‘What is in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet?’ We all love roses. And I hope we all love the new name. So, what are we going to call what is left of planet Earth? All of you who have been part of this transition voted when you first arrived. I have the ballots right here, counted out.” The general held up a golden goblet, the same goblet each guest at Jaxie’s table held. “I know, the suspense is killing you.” The audience chuckled. The general possessed a great deal of showmanship in his delivery.
I saw him hold up the goblet. He paused and then continued his speech. “All of the names for this planet were amazing. But we can only have one name, and that name will be…World of Peace.”
The applause was not as loud as they were previously. “It fits. As you all know, I call our new troops Peacekeepers. Those of you within the inner circle will be called Peace Elders. Which leaves us to our next course of business. Only one of us will be called Prince or Princess of Peace. There are no kings among us, only the king we bow down to, the king who guided us for centuries in arriving to this moment. Tonight we will decide who will rule the World of Peace…”
Jaxie whispered to the doctor, “I liked One World better.” He seemed to like her consolation.
“Even now, after everything we have been through, all that we solely and collectively lost, elections are still rigged,” whispered the doctor right into Jaxie’s hidden mic.
“Is this being televised?” Jaxie asked.
“Yes, but just the general’s speech. WBNX has two cameras. One pointed at us, so smile and continue looking beautiful. The other one is pointed at the general. It will air later tonight and tomorrow morning.”
“You didn’t tell me I was going to be on TV.”
“I’m a man of many secrets. Some I will share with you later,” the doctor said. I saw his hand reach for her thigh. My stomach soured as I watched, yet Jaxie played along.
Brick helped himself to another piece of pizza and shook his head. He then said, “The doctor doesn’t trust the general. This dynamic keeps on getting more interesting. C’mon, both of you. Eat more. We need a reason to stay here a little bit longer.”
Brick was right, but my stomach was about to explode. Camden and I took the remaining last two pieces of pizza. The waitress came by and asked if we wanted dessert. We all nodded. Each of us chose something different with intentions of sharing.
We listened in and passed around the tablet as the general finished up his speech. “Our Prince or Princess of Peace will be announced after our remarkable dinner. Without further ado, let’s feast in celebration.”
Jaxie’s dinner began as ours ended. The waitress plopped down a hunk of strawberry cheesecake for me, a brownie sundae for Camden, and a thick slice of tiramisu for Brick. Despite the uncomfortable bloat and my tightening waistband, I scarfed down my cheesecake plus a few hefty bites of Brick’s and Camden’s desserts.
The footage and the conversation at Jaxie’s party remained polite and superficial. Everyone spoke English, the chosen language for how these international titans communicated. Each of them praised the other for their achievements and social standing, but the blandishment rang hollow. Underneath the smiles and kind words these people had fangs. They might run in the same pack, but all of them wanted to be the alpha.
As much as I enjoyed my dinner, Jaxie’s dinner looked even better. Servers kept coming with soups, salads, side dishes, and main courses. The gigantic lobster tails especially made me drool despite my own humongous dinner. The food kept on coming. Jaxie was not a big eater, but she gorged herself as we just gorged ourselves.
Our waitress laid down the bill. Our little stakeout at Jake’s Pizza was about to expire. I snatched up the check and handed the waitress one of my many fake cards loaded with units. She ran it through a machine on her tray and had me punch in the tip. She then handed me back the card. Realistically, we had another ten or fifteen minutes of keeping our table before we would be given the bum’s rush. The place was packed and others sat at the bar, waiting for a table.
“So, now what?” Camden asked. We sat closer to each other, glued to the tablet.
“I’m dying to find out who will be Prince or Princess of Peace,” I answered. “We’ve got some time left before the waitress gets pesky.”
Camden and Brick nodded. I sensed their paranoia. We must have appeared to be quite odd to the waitress and any potential onlookers. Several more minutes went by, and the general finally got back up to the podium.
“The sweet table will be open all night. Our celebration has yet to truly begin. Now, as promised, I will announce who will be our Prince or Princess of Peace. As previously decided, this will be a rotating post. Power is limited and decisions will be made by the majority vote of the Peace Elders per the new Declaration. First, I can tell you who did not get selected. Me.” The audience was silence. “You were supposed to laugh. That was a feeble attempt at humor during this stoic moment. As you all correctly assumed, my control of the military and its weaponry canceled me out of the running immediately. No one likes the Prince of Peace to have a bomb.” There was a little bit of laughter, but it sounded more like nervous discomfort.
“Say it already,” Brick said in frustration to the tablet.
“We need a leader who is loved by all, not feared by all. We need a leader who is admired by the masses, a leader who has spent his life making this world better before the war, and now after. We need a leader who symbolizes peace and good will. That leader, our Prince of Peace, will be none other than Doctor Stephen Laurie. Please stand, Doctor.”
Doctor Stephen Laurie stood up and the crowd roared. I couldn’t see what he was doing, but the crowd quickly silenced.
“Doctor, a few words?” asked the general. I saw his arm motion the doctor up to the podium.
The doctor must have shook his head. The general then said, “We will wait with anticipation for your acceptance speech. But, as promised, a ceremony will be held to honor our prince. Let us all finish up our feast and move this party into our downstairs ballroom.”
We looked at each other inside of the pizza restaurant in disbelief. Brick was the first to speak. “So Jaxie is dating the Prince of the World?”
“Prince of Peace, Brick. Weren’t you listening? And it’s World of Peace, not the world. It’s almost like destiny. Listen, I would love to stay here, but the waitress has come by three times to see if there was anything else that we needed. It’s time to go. Got room for more food? Maybe there’s another restaurant nearby,” I said as I stood up and stretched.
We slowly put on our outside gear. My stomach felt more bloated than after a Thanksgiving Day feast. I felt my skin ice up as the night air dropped several degrees below zero. Our coats and hats were not warm enough to stay outside for any length of time. They were, however, a great way to hide our physical description. We walked slightly closer to the massive building. Armed Peacekeepers hadn’t moved. There were too many of them to risk getting any closer. The howl of the wind made it impossible to hear the conversation Jaxie and the doctor were having.
My eyes scanned our surroundings. There were no more open restaurants to camp out at. I led Camden and Brick to the alley that ran behind the old Boston Symphony building. We stood two blocks away. There were two armed soldiers a block closer to the building, but neither one of them seemed too alert. They both crossed their arms, and I assumed they were even colder than we were.
No guards were stationed on the other side of Saint Stephens Street. Ironic name, I thought, St. Stephens Street is where St. Stephen Laurie rules. A small vacant parking lot butted up to an old building as well as a dumpster. We ducked into an alcove to avoid the cutting wind. The walls’ protection helped block the wind, making the night almost tolerable. Camden tri
ed the run-down metal storm door. The large metal lock had lost its click. Only the pressure from the wind kept the door sealed tight.
“Oh, what luck!” Camden said. We were inside a tiny vestibule of doorbells and mailboxes. “Hope no one comes by. This is a pretty good spot.”
“Dad, check for cameras,” Brick whispered.
The young man continued to impress me. Sure enough, there was one camera mounted in the corner and aimed at the mailboxes, away from us. We dodged being seen on the security tape. I pointed to my shoulders and knelt down. Brick hopped up and disabled the camera like an old pro who once worked at a security firm.
Camden turned on his tablet and we continued our voyeurism into the life of Jaxie Nottingham, vigilante, super-heroine, and now the undercover girlfriend of the Prince of Peace. Chad would love this. This was his moment, not ours, not Jaxie’s. I wished he was with us. Maybe I should have brought him. He would have been high on all of the possibilities. I texted him as Camden and Brick continued to watch Jaxie on the tablet.
We got an in for your target. If things don’t go well, you know what to do. We need you to spread the word.
To my surprise, Chad texted me right back.
We know what to do. J is gone. We got your back.
I wasn’t exactly sure what he meant by that, but I assumed the worst. I looked up to the ceiling and silently said a prayer. Oh God, if you exist, we need Your help. George told me about You and You are all we got left. Help, SOS, save us! Amen!
Camden and Brick stopped eavesdropping on Jaxie for one moment and watched me.
“Prayer time?” Brick asked. I nodded. “Whatever you said, ditto. We need all of the help we can get!”
I tried to text Chad once more. What exactly did he mean by Jun gone? But my text wouldn’t go through. “Let me step out for a second, guys. I got some tech problems. Trying to communicate with Chad. This should be his moment.”
Camden and Brick nodded. None of us could hear a word of what was going on at the party, just garble of a few hundred conversations. We saw nothing through Jaxie’s lenses of the new room the party was now in. There were bright dots we assumed to be candlelight.
I stepped out and tried to send the text to Chad once again. This time the reception allowed it to go through. In the distance, I heard a clopping sound. Slowly, I stepped out of the building’s alcove, into the parking lot, and then down the street. I could see the corner of St. Stephen and Massachusetts in the distance. The clopping sound got louder. I wanted a closer look, but two guards were stationed at the corner. And then I saw it, some kind of four-legged animal, covered in a red velvet blanket, clopping down the street to the side entrance of Boston Symphony Hall.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Jaxie
Breathe. Calm down. Remember, one false move and I am dead. I must had told myself that at least one hundred times since stepping through the front door of the party. I was out with the Prince of Peace, or some would say the King of the World. He could and would do whatever he wanted with me. I assumed he’d want sex, and I would of course give it to him the best way that I knew how. What if there was more? Torture, S&M, maybe even sacrifice? The guest list of tonight’s gala scared the hell out of me. These were the mass murderers of World War III and I was with their leader. I needed to keep on flirting, stroking his ego, and whatever else he required. Maybe I could exit this party alive.
I continued to shift my purse and move my head so that Camden, Brick, and Raphael could see the creepy new room that we shifted into. The room was below both the lobby and the banquet room. The floor felt like concrete. Four large candelabras casted the only light in the immense space. With each step, I worried about tripping. I barely saw anything. Maybe that was the point. My heels hurt my feet and I wanted to sit down. The area seemed void of furniture. The Prince of Peace disappeared and left me alone to socialize.
I had a chance to look at the other guests, most of whom I did not know. I recognized the celebrities, politicians, tycoons, and athletes who were sprinkled among the crowd.
My boss Max was by far the most famous American at the party. He was even more famous than Doctor Laurie. Before he turned thirty, Fogle emerged as the biggest tech company in the world, and Max became the richest man in the world. His number one spot slipped from time to time, but he remained in the top ten list of the world’s wealthiest people for over a decade. Wonder Boy was his nickname, and I used to worship him. I spent my entire adulthood climbing up the ladder at Fogle so that I could have a seat at his table. Ironically, I got what I always wanted, but not as an equal. I was the Prince of Peace’s new whore. The staunch feminism within me coiled at the thought. How angry Max must have been. This was one of the few times he ever lost at anything.
I stood by the wall and squinted in dark room, watching the guests interact. These were the beautiful people, the who’s who, the movers, the ones who counted. I smiled to myself. They’d be the ones who I would destroy. I couldn’t help but notice through the glare of sequins and jewels that this inner circle of world citizens was awkward. Conversation was forced. No one was comfortable. These people were acquaintances at best, not friends. I thought of the Vice President, the King of England, the Prime Minister of Japan, and so many other powerful people who did not survive. Were they part of this? Or did they find out about this cabal before it was too late?
Hoot! Hoot!
Aaaahhhh! I turned around to see where the noise came from. There was an aviary of owls set along the same wall I stood against. Someone lit two more candelabras. We could now see the owls. The noise chilled me to the core. A presence of evil filled the room, and I wanted to run. My confidence was gone.
“Camden, Brick, Raph?” I whispered.
“Jaxie, we’re across the street, two blocks away. It’s as close as we can get. The place is crawling with Peacekeepers. Not getting the best visual right now. Can’t really hear very well either. Your voice sounds so far away. You moved from the banquet room,” Camden said into the mic.
“Yes, I am in the basement. The only lighting is coming from a few candles. Everyone is waiting for something. There’s a bunch of owls in here. Fucking owls! They are in a cage. Oh, God, I’m scared. The doctor ditched me. I’m sensing that he is expected to make some kind of speech or something. I am by myself. The rest of the party is making small talk.”
Raphael said, “Hold on. Don’t lose your nerve now. The owls aren’t the only animals invited to the party. A few soldiers just brought in a big four-legged animal. Maybe a horse? They entered the side entrance. There must be some kind of a show planned for the evening.”
The sound of several drums silenced the room. “Got to go,” I whispered. Within seconds, the chatter ceased and twelve men dressed in dark robes, twisted rope belts with tassels, and shaved heads stood in a line at the side of the room farthest from the entrance. They each drummed off of snare drums draped around their necks by thick leather bands. After several minutes, the drumming calmed my nerves and put me into a relaxed state.
The dim light kept me from clearly seeing their faces or even the colors they wore. Another man dressed like the drummers walked out from the same door. He waved a single chain thurible as he walked the perimeter of the room. A white, smoky haze wafted up towards the ceiling. I smelled a slightly burnt scent of flowers and bakery. My head lightened, and I felt relaxed, dreamy.
“Jaxie?” Raphael yelled in my ear mic.
“Ah?”
“Can’t see a damn thing. Shift your purse?” Raphael asked.
“Ah, no. Not now.”
“What’s going on? We hear drums. You sound weird,” Brick said.
“I don’t know. I’ll turn,” I whispered. Maybe the camera lens from my hair comb would show them the drummers. As I turned, a few nearby people smiled at me. Everyone had a glaze in their eyes.
“Thanks,” Camden said. “Can barely see the entertainment. We only see smoke.”
“Yeah. Think we’ve all been drugged
,” I said and then giggled. Although I was talking to my Patriots via mic, a man and a woman in back of me nodded in response to my comment. Why were we being drugged? I was almost too high to care.
Two more men dressed in dark robes rolled out a large, gray table made of stone. The base of the table was etched in an elaborate design. I squinted for a better look, but it was so dark. The table was pushed in the center of the room.
The same two men left and then came back, carrying ornate stools with golden legs. I counted eleven. They lined up the stools along one side of the table. One of them yelled in the deepest voice I had ever heard, “Gather around in a circle.” The large group shifted its positioning and formed a standing circle.
The two robed men disappeared behind the same door, and returned again, this time carrying a twelfth seat. It wasn’t a stool, but a large chair with golden backing. A real throne? Was all of this pomp and circumstance the beginning of a coronation? I whispered my thoughts into the microphone.
Raphael was the first to respond. “Maybe that’s what the animal is for. Sounds like you’ll get to see a ritual. We are recording this, and it will make great propaganda for our cause. We got a plan if things get hairy.”
The drummers wouldn’t stop drumming. My head was as light as a feather. I felt weightless, almost in a state of ecstasy. Another distinctive smell entered the room. The horse Raphael saw? I instantly thought of a farm I once visited when I was in school on a class field trip. I saw two horns on the animal’s head as it clomped through the double doors of the elevator on the far side of the room.
