Future Furies (Endless Fire Book 1)

by R E Kearney

  She points at his burgeoning belly. “You can stand to lose about thirty to forty pounds there, big boy.”

  “Then what about water? At least you can give me some water.”

  “Why of course we have water. We make water in the morning so we drink water in the afternoon,” Nu answers with a wry smile and a wink, before disappearing back into the airplane’s galley.

  “What? Is she saying I am expected to drink my urine?”

  “No. It’ll probably be my urine,” Nu shouts from the galley. “As certain as we urinate in the morning, we drink recycled water in the afternoon.”

  “Then I’ll just go dry. By my God, you people really are heathens.”

  “Suit yourself, but you will become extremely hungry and thirsty eventually. It is the same on Venus as it is here. We call it our guaranteed weight loss plan for you fat Americans.”

  Robert chokes on his coffee as he attempts to stifle his laughter at Evoil. Evidently, the flight crew and Evoil have declared war.

  Evoil snaps his fingers and whistles, as if calling a pet. “Since, you have nothing for me to eat or drink, what do you have for my entertainment? Can I watch some American news, at least?”

  Nu sneers. “Oh, I am so sorry sir, but SPEA contracted transportation providers do not furnish news, especially that US propaganda you call Fox news. But, there are links to more than one hundred sporting contests available and there are movies, as well as live performances of plays, symphonies, operas and ballets. Please enjoy”

  “You people just never stop. Do you?”

  “Actually, it’s our normal passengers who never stop. Majority of them are scientists who use their flight time to think and research, so they only care about maintaining connections with their colleagues. A great deal of thinking occurs in here. You should really attempt it sometime…thinking that is.” Nu grins at Robert, as she celebrates her personal verbal victory.

  After several minutes of watching Robert consume the SPEA food and drink, Evoil stands and stretches. He keeps his legs spread. With a loud groan he steps toward Robert with his hand outstretched.

  “Hello. I am Society Security Deacon Mack Evoil,” he reaches out to shake hands. “You are?”

  “Robert Goodfellow…from Canada,” he quickly shakes and releases Evoil’s spongy, sweat-wet hand.

  “You’re not military? I expected that you would be military. I also expected that you would be a good, old American, not a Canuck. But that’s alright. I like you Canucks. You have good hunting up there. I killed a bear up there last year. Do you hunt?”

  “No. I don’t hunt. Too dangerous. Too many Americans running around with too many guns shooting at anything that moves. You guys make me nervous,” having already witnessed too many of Evoil’s argumentative and irrational outbursts, Robert decides to divulge as little as possible.

  “Too bad. Nothing beats the thrill of killing.”

  “I’ll take your word for it. But, unless that bear has a rifle too, it doesn’t seem like a fair fight.” Robert avoids getting too chummy. His aversion to large-mouthed Americans is intense. He returns his attention to eating and drinking.

  Grumbling, Evoil returns to his seat before adding, “You should pray. If you’re going to eat their unholy excuse for food, then you should pray.”

  Robert ignores him. But Nu, who has obviously been eavesdropping, does not. She storms into the cabin with a purpose. She may be slight in size, but her disgust with Evoil is gigantic.

  Furious, Nu stands nose to nose with the seated Evoil. “I have listened to you whine, moan, grunt and complain for more than eight hours and I have had enough. You’re self-centered, inconsiderate, insulting, ungrateful and rude. It’s because of your kind’s sanctimonious, self-righteousness strangling of America that SPEA escaped. And now we’re stuck saving you.”

  Most people will be humbled by such a vilification, but not Evoil. Nu’s condemnation only encourages him. His arrogance quickly explodes, “SPEA is a rebellious, blasphemous abode of sodomites! President Abaddon tried to save you, but you have forsaken him and his path to salvation. SPEA is headed for Hell.”

  “Your path to salvation is a road to perdition.” A red-faced Nu fervently shakes her finger in Evoil’s face. “I had a good job designing airplanes for Boeing, but when Abaddon stole the Presidency, armed thugs stormed our office and threatened everybody that they thought was an immigrant. I had to run for my life, just because my father is Vietnamese. Catholic Vietnamese! A Christian! Half of my engineering division scattered to other countries. Now Boeing is designing its airplanes in its China facility. Thanks to you and your fellow Gangsters Opposing Progress, or what you call the GOP, the US is now a society of antiquity, superstition, frustration and penury.”

  “Get away from me, you Jezebel!” Evoil shoves Nu backward.

  “Yes! That’s exactly what I did. I got away from you and your hateful ignorance. I found a new life. A great life. Thanks to Dame Gutefrau and SPEA. And now you’re trying to destroy that.”

  “Even our lord Jesus Christ's mission and teachings were misunderstood by most of those who saw and heard him. Why should the righteous Reverend Abaddon and his dedicated disciples be any different?”

  “Enough!” the crewman shouts as he walks into the cabin. “Nu take over the controls. This discussion is over. In fact, there will be no more discussion.”

  The crewman shakes a piece of paper toward Evoil. “Listen up mister. I am going to read you the official SPEA policy on religion. You will shut up and follow it or I will personally throw you out of my airplane and into the ocean. Do you understand?”

  Evoil silently glares at him.

  The crewman crams a card into Evoil’s hand. “Read it. Remember it. Follow it.”

  “SPEA follows the ancient concept of cuius regio, eius religio meaning whose realm, his religion. The independent state of SPEA recognizes all of the world’s religions, by recognizing no religion. SPEA is a secular state recognizing no religion and allowing no display of religious articles or observation of religious holidays. SPEA’s leadership considers religion divisive and disruptive and the cause of discord and conflict and is thereby prohibited.”

  Evoil crushes the paper into a ball and tosses it onto the floor. He turns and stares out the airplane’s window. Robert listens. He thinks he can hear him mumbling something: a curse or possibly a prayer. Probably a prayer.

  “So Robert, want something more to drink? Perhaps some more protein bars?” The crewman asks loudly to ensure Evoil hears.

  “Yeah, I would. Both. Some coffee and protein bars would be great…uh…” Robert silently seeks his name.

  “Ehren. Ehren Mann. Ich komme ursprünglich aus Stuttgart Deutschland.“ He smiles and translates, “I am originally from Stuttgart Germany.“

  “Would you like to tour Nu’s and my brain child? We’re rather proud of this aircraft we designed and built together,” Ehren signals for Robert to follow him. “Come with me and I’ll fetch you some more coffee and food.”

  “I would definitely enjoy stretching my legs.” Robert rises from his seat and follows Ehren.

  Ehren points toward the cockpit’s instrument panel, which Nu, perched in the Pilot’s seat, is watching intently. “Usually we rely totally on this baby’s computerized, auto-pilot, GPS guidance system, but with all of the military aircraft crashes and commercial aircraft groundings we cannot set it and forget it. Since we aren’t a US or Russian aircraft we don’t expect a cyberattack, but we don’t want to take any chances either. Too many of their military aircraft have already dropped out of the sky for me to chance it. Heck, I hear that both the US and Russia ordered all aircraft – military and commercial - grounded because they fear a repeat of 9/11.”

  Ehren slips into the galley to prepare Robert’s coffee, while Nu monitors her aircraft’s instruments.

  “Well what do you think of Abaddon’s nephew?” She asks, seeking his reaction.

 
“Nephew? Evoil?”

  “Yes,” Nu jerks her thumb toward the cabin. “Evoil is Abaddon’s nephew. His administration is in such disarray and he is so paranoid that he no longer trusts anybody who is not family. He fears dying in a coup just like the one he executed to gain control. So, he has put Society Security totally in charge. Abaddon only trusts his SS. And the SS doesn’t trust anybody. Even themselves. I hear that it is so bad that the SS and the US military refuse to share any intelligence or cooperate in any action. Some say the military is in full blown mutiny against Abaddon. Abaddon is isolated in the White House and surrounded by an increasingly hostile population. If you ask me, the US has mutilated itself until it resembles the last days of Hitler’s Germany.”

  “Interesting. I believe Hitler committed suicide. Didn’t he?”

  “Yes, he did. But, don’t expect the same from Abaddon or his cronies. From what I’ve experienced, when Abaddon and his true believers are backed into a corner they lash out. When they’re cornered is when they are the most irrational and the most dangerous.”

  As he hands Robert his coffee and food, Ehren interjects, “According to our latest SPEA Intel, Abaddon is following Hitler’s example and is hunkered down and bunkered inside the White House. Reports are that he’s removed all of the trees and bushes from the White House lawn to eliminate any blind spots. Inside the fence, he’s surrounded the White House and Capitol Building with SS troops operating all types of robotic equipment and drones. Outside the fence, though, he’s installed six huge 3-D screens, so he can deliver sermons and speeches, just like he did at his mega-church.”

  “Is that God under the gun?” Robert joked. “You know, I believe I saw his SS troops moving into position, just before I joined you at the airport.”

  “You probably only saw a portion of them. He’s using the VP and NRA President’s killings to clamp down even harder on his opponents and consolidate his forces. DC is bristling with just about all of his SS troops.

  Nu climbs out of the pilot’s seat and stretches. “I believe he ordered those two killed, himself. That’s what he did to grab power and that’s what he’s doing to keep power. He creates consolidating conspiracy crises.”

  “You may be correct, but right now I am more concerned with the murders of twenty-one Cyber Defense Group personnel, and preventing at least two more...and possibly, my own as well.”

  “And just who do you think had your Cyber Defense Group friends killed?”

  “Let me guess. You believe it was Abaddon and his henchmen.”

  “No question in my mind,” Nu taps the side of her head. “He had your Cyber Defense Group partners killed as a way to infiltrate one of his accomplices into SPEA, so he can destroy it. He wants to eliminate SPEA almost as much as he wants to annihilate Russia. It’s personal. He hates Gutefrau. SPEA and Gutefrau are devouring his mind like brain cancer. Eating him alive.”

  As Ehren slides into his co-pilot seat, he adds his thoughts to Nu’s conspiracy theories. “SPEA is too successful. Almost every week another US corporation follows SPEA’s example and abandons the US. SPEA is leading a corporate, seasteading, independence movement that is sucking the US dry. It’s Economics. It’s all about money and that’s why it’s worse than having corporations just moving their headquarters to your Canada. Canadian headquartered corporations still pay taxes to the US. As an independent state, SPEA pays nothing. No taxes. So, each time another US corporation follows SPEA to seasteading independence, Abaddon sinks deeper and deeper into debt’s quicksand. He can’t publicly and openly attack SPEA. That would only enhance SPEA. So he must get somebody inside to corrupt it and extinguish it internally.”

  Robert raises his right eyebrow and smirks skeptically, “So according to your personal conspiracy theories, Abaddon is responsible for all of the murders in the US and Russia?”

  “Yes.”

  Incredulous, Robert continues, “And he murdered these people, including two of his closest and oldest political allies?”

  “Yes.”

  “Risking another bloody war with Russia?”

  “Just collateral damage.”

  “And possibly a civil war in the US?”

  “He and his vigilante groups have total control.”

  “Just to eliminate SPEA?”

  “Absolutely correct.”

  “And the best person he can find to infiltrate SPEA is his half-wit nephew Evoil?”

  “Evoil may appear to be a bumbling fool, and in many ways he is, but that is what makes him so dangerous. He wants you to let down your guard. He wants you to think he’s harmless, your friend, your colleague and your confidant. Never trust him. Do not ever turn your back on him.” Lowering his voice, Ehren warns Robert, “You’re safe here with us. But out in the field, he is Cain and you, unfortunately, could become his Abel.”

  “I will be vigilant. Ever vigilant.” Robert rubs his chin and cynically shakes his head, as he walks back into the cabin.

  He silently worries. Obviously, the Russians are not his only problem. Now he must constantly watch Evoil too. Everybody has a dog in this fight. Robert considers all that he has been told and realizes that he can believe no one completely. He can trust no one completely. I believe I may be all alone in this one. I am swimming in some deep, troubled water here. Deep water. And I’m not a good swimmer.

  Chapter 12.

  Venus

  “Rise and shine! Venus on the horizon.”

  Robert slowly opens his eyes to Nu’s calling voice. Although he fought hard to keep his eyes open and watching Evoil, he fell asleep. With a quick glance, he discovers that Evoil is sleeping soundly in his seat, as well. Some crumbs riding his chest tells Robert that hunger and thirst finally overwhelmed Evoil’s religious objections.

  “The best view is from our cockpit. So come on up here,” Ehren hollers.

  Robert finds Ehren and Nu sitting in the pilot and copilot seats. Peering over their shoulders, he spies an emerald green sparkle in the distance, perched at the edge of an incredibly beautiful blue ocean. During his active service with the Canadian military, he traveled through the three oceans and several seas. But at this moment, he realizes that he has never experienced an ocean so crystal-clear, so pristine - so pure blue - that it swallows you. His heart beats faster, spellbound by the stunning spectacle.

  For several minutes, Robert swims the enchanting water with his eyes. Until, as they fly closer, he notices five naval ships. Two of the ships fly US flags and three of the ships fly Russian flags. The ships do not appear to be moving.

  Ehren points toward the ships. “I don’t think they are making way. They appear dead-in-the-water. I wonder if Russian and US military ships have been shut down like their military aircraft.”

  “I wouldn’t think so. When our Canadian ships operate with the US Navy, they practice operating completely independent of externalities. I suspect that they are shut down for silent surveillance.”

  Nu scrutinizes her instrument panel. “You’re right. I think they’re scanning us now, in fact.

  “Nobody, but us SPEA citizens up here boys. Just flying home.” Ehren leans toward the window and waves. “Glad Evoil’s bio-tracker is blocked. Wouldn’t want to upset the Russians.”

  “My guess is that they’re just watching and waiting…” Robert offers.

  “Waiting for what?” Nu asks, concerned.

  “…for somebody to make the wrong move. They don’t trust each other and neither of them trust you. They’re like two gunfighters with itchy trigger fingers. Right now, both of their nations are under attack and they don’t know from where or by whom. They’re nervous, very nervous, and that makes me nervous, and should make you nervous, too,” Robert presses his face closer to the window for a better look.

  “Look there.” Nu directs Robert’s attention to a cylindrical dark blue shadow sliding through the seawater. “I think that’s one of our sub-drones. SPEA keeps four of them patrolling the edge of our
twelve mile limit continuously with two in reserve. Israelis built six of them for us. If you ask me, those ladies should make them even more nervous.”

  Robert scans the ocean. He spies two more dark blue cylindrical shadows gliding through the azure water. They can easily be mistaken for gigantic Great White sharks. Which may be SPEA’s and the Israelis’ intent. He wonders if the sub-drones are LAWS that can kill on their own or if somebody inside Venus keeps them on an electronic leash. He speculates that the Russian and American ships are sitting-on-station tracking SPEA’s sub-drones in a cat and mouse game.

  Then, he notices other shadows. Scrutinizing intently, he finally discerns SPEA’s camouflaged aero-drones patrolling. Robert recognizes the Chameleon fabrics comprising the drones’ skins. Their textile-like plastic sheets embedded with light-emitting diodes replicate the colors and patterns of their surrounding environment rendering the aero-drones practically invisible to his human eyes. Only their shadows moving across the water reveal them, and only when seen from above. From below, they disappear into the sky. He counts six shadows guarding this sector of SPEA’s skies. Robert wonders if the two Navies can identify them with radar or infrared or if Israeli engineers eliminated those signatures, too.

  “How many Israelis are stationed on Venus to operate all of this high tech hardware?”

  “None.” Nu shakes her head. “The Israelis operate our security systems from a secure location in the Negev. So, there’s nobody here for anybody to attack. Israel’s become a worldwide home security provider. Everybody uses them. They’re the great equalizer. They’ve designed and installed, and now operate robotic and drone national security systems for numerous small states and large corporations around the globe.”

  Proudly, Nu continues describing Venus’ defenses. “Besides, the Israelis actually don’t need to be near here. They programmed all of our defenses with a cooperative approach known as swarm robotics that enables a swarm of intelligent robots to operate together in a real-world environment. Using Darwinian learning, the robots are designed to teach themselves how to cooperate in carrying out a task. Each robot is equipped with a neural network that mimics the operations of a living brain. So each robot can decide for itself how to carry out the mission, and coordinate with its neighbors."