The Benefactor

by Jake Aaron

  Zeke had impeccable character, she thought. He was her rock. He was the pillar supporting her life. He would never betray her.

  Then she laughed at herself. Why was she heading to the outside pump? Habit — and preoccupation! There was now running water in the house. She went back into the house.

  *****

  While others performed chores, Julia was upstairs in a spare bedroom now dedicated to projects for Nephthys. Julia was studying the coding books that had arrived on the helicoptered pallet. She was grateful for the central heating that let her get away from the comings and goings by the downstairs fireplace.

  Normally she was single-minded in concentration when she read. Today her mind spun from the morning’s events. Recurring flashbacks interfered with her studies. Catching her first fish! That brought to mind Zeke’s unexpected advance, which had seemed totally out of character. A betrothed man, no less! Keala is my best friend. How should I feel?

  Despite her considerable understated beauty, she considered herself an unattractive nerd. While she was shocked at his initial hug, it fit the excitement of the moment, but her body had been hesitant at first. Then he had whispered in her left ear, “We’re being watched from above. Work with me. I’m going to kiss you. It’s for the drone camera. Okay with you?” She tried to nod in agreement against a tight clutch restraining her chin.

  The kiss on her lips had been shockingly quick. It surprised her, even with the warning. She couldn’t have returned it if she’d wanted to. Then Zeke had whispered in her other ear, “Become indispensable as a coder. You have to learn as much about Nephthys as is humanly possible. Our AI gets smarter every day. Everyone is counting on you. This — we have to look right. I’m going to kiss you again. Okay?”

  Her affirmative nod came before her mind said yes.

  The long kiss that followed rocked her world. She was committed to Milt. She hoped Zeke wasn’t a closet lech and felt hesitant. Somehow, however, she still enjoyed the attention. She returned the kiss. She really enjoyed it.

  Zeke broke off the kiss. That reassured her rational mind. Then he was back speaking softly in her left ear, “After this, I will kiss you one more time, unless you have questions for my ears. We can’t repeat Anne’s mistake. She hadn’t done enough preparation. Later, too many others wanted to fight the AI without a plan. Too large a circle. The AI would have detected their conspiracy and crushed them. We will be different. We will be patient but relentless, compliant on the surface but subversive in the depths.

  “One unmistakable truth: Mankind competes with the AI for energy and data storage. We must work continuously to get the upper hand on Nephthys. We will not be endlings! You will be the undisputed heroic soldier who saves mankind. This has to be our secret — you and me only. No one else. Am I clear?”

  Julia answered by initiating the last and longest kiss. Her left hand had a will of its own. It gently caressed the nape of Zeke’s neck underneath his scarf. Had she imagined his right hand’s firm but gentle pressure on the small of her back? Something at the core of her body and soul had awakened with an electric warmth, something she had never known was there. She had never felt so alive, so invigorated. Her spirit soared.

  Julia realized she would do anything to be around Zeke. She drew energy from his presence, even the thought of him. The imprinting on the reserved genius had been gradual. It had been building below her level of awareness. Studying him every day, she had come to admire his intellect and skills. As the leader of the Denton group, he was a maestro, not only leading the orchestra but thinking of the next concerto at the same time. She was fascinated how he artfully led members where he wanted the group to go, making each think it was his or her choice. He overlooked no one.

  At another level, she was drawn to Zeke’s magnetism that attracted her subliminally, the romantic notion her intellectual parents had taught her to deny. Her DNA, however, could not overlook his attractiveness. She liked his geometry: tall, muscular, symmetric, big-shouldered, and youthful. She could not forget his jaunty walk. His appropriate smiles and good humor were particular beacons to her usually dampened demeanor.

  Prickly chills ran from her back to the base of her skull every time she remembered the kissing moment, clashing with an overall sense of warmth. Perhaps Zeke and she could go “fishing” again, she daydreamed. Maybe he could teach her to “hunt.” What she felt trumped her loyalty to Keala. More likely, Zeke and she would have overnights at the Hamilton community college. She fantasized, and if Marsh got pulled away for some reason … .

  She returned to studying the coding book. She forced her conscious attention on the best avenue to be alone with Zeke again.

  Moments later, her concentration was broken by Zeke knocking on the door, “Julia, how’s it going in there?”

  Julia’s stuttered reply was awkwardly late, “Making ... making progress! And you?” His voice triggered another reverie. Once again, she found herself reliving catching her first fish and passionately kissing Zeke. Her logical brain chastised her. She recalled a catchphrase from law school: You can’t unring that bell.

  "Keala, forgive me," she whispered to herself.

  Then she vividly remembered the probing question she had whispered in his ear as they embraced, “When will we get the upper hand?”

  As profoundly, she heard his mysterious reply: “70!”

  END

  Dedication (continued)

  One of George Noory’s recurring themes is the critical need to harden the nation’s electrical infrastructure against EMPs (electromagnetic pulses). He has interviewed several scientists, political leaders, and authors who argue very convincingly that there is an overwhelming strategic necessity to do this. Among those have been foremost expert Dr. Peter Pry, noted news anchor Ted Koppel, and best-selling author William R. Forstchen. Whether the threat is natural or manmade, appropriately protecting the grid can avert a potential catastrophe for the country. As a proponent, he is doing an inestimable national service. He is a great American.

  Other books by Jake Aaron: I Shot JFK, Custos: Enemies Domestic, Custos: Stalker, and Custos: The Fin. Custos: The Fin is a prequel that occurs prior to Custos: Enemies Domestic. Custos: Stalker is a midquel that occurs during Custos: Enemies Domestic. All are available on Kindle. I Shot JFK is also available as a paperback on Amazon — excerpt follows.

  jakeaaron@outlook.com

  Excerpt from I Shot JFK by Jake Aaron

  (paperback, Amazon; also on Kindle)

  prologue

  I am about to change the course of history for the United States and the world.

  It is Friday — approaching half past noon. What started out as a rainy morning became a nice sunny day in Dallas. It is 67 degrees Fahrenheit, they tell me. I estimate the wind to be 15 mph — my lucky number. I hear the rustling of leaves through the open window.

  I am on the sixth floor of a seven-story red-brick warehouse. The overhead lights are off so we aren’t visible from the outside. A slim guy named Lee is standing by the window. He is watching for the approaching presidential motorcade. He is edgy and intrusive.

  I have to order him out of my way.

  I move out of the background. He hands me an Italian rifle with a mounted 4X telescope. I take it with a port-arms grab, my right hand on the grip and left eleven inches above. “RIPOSO!” I direct — stand easy, in Italian, referring to the original rifle manufacturing country.

  Lee utters, “Huh?” with a blank stare.

  The Carcano rifle feels familiar. I have practiced with it. It appeared magically in my apartment last week, as promised. Then it disappeared after several days, until now, as expected. This operation appears to be well coordinated but thinly staffed.

  I choose not to acquire the jumpiness that Lee shows. Too much adrenaline coursing through his body, I guess. If I catch that contagion, I won’t be able to do my job. He would not be my first choice of operatives for this team. He has an exaggerated sense of his own importance, and I can read that
— even though I’ve only been around him for minutes. From what I can tell, I’m far more important to the operation than he is.

  I move to the window and prepare. I instinctively watch the flutter of the tree leaves to update my assessment of wind direction and speed. I estimate the distance to where the procession will be when I will fire. I consciously control my breathing, feeling each motion of my diaphragm.

  I expect that Lee will remain quiet. I remind him just in case.

  He has assured me that no one will be coming into the room, “That has been worked out. We will be alone. I made sure of that. Don’t worry about the exit strategy. I’ve got that handled, too!”

  No worries, I am very stable under pressure. I sight the rifle in and concentrate on my role. I overlook the megalomania and jangled nerves of Lee. Anyone else but me would be thrown off by this guy’s obsession and visible emotionality. One reason I was chosen is that I can overlook those. I am here to fulfill a contract.

  Did I mention it’s November 22, 1963?

  About the Author

  The author is an award-winning essayist in competitions at college, the Freedoms Foundation, and a major command of the United States Air Force. He is a distinguished graduate of a United States service academy and was first in his MBA and MS engineering classes. He was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross as an aircraft commander in combat. He flew over 1,000 sorties in the Vietnam War and flew around the world twice. Later, he was the first pilot to land his series jet on McMurdo Sound’s ice runway in Antarctica. He served as an instructor pilot, flight examiner, acquisitions program manager, engineer, senior command-and-control director, and squadron commander. In a subsequent career, he was a top territory manager for several leading international medical companies.