To Wake the Living (The Time Stone Trilogy Book 2)

by Robert F Hays

  “Why unfortunately?”

  “That V Phone system is a pain in the rear. The day it opened we received thousands of calls from all over the galaxy from individuals claiming to be reincarnations of people we knew. It appears they just picked our names at random from the directory and called.”

  “Oh yes,” Jim said. “That reincarnation craze has increased in the last couple of years. Just get your system to filter out those calls.”

  “Already have,” Matt said as they walked through the front door. “But they keep finding ways to get around the system by not mentioning certain words.”

  * * *

  Jim looked along a solid granite wall three meters high and one meter wide as they walked from the public parking lot toward the capitol buildings. “Were these their intended outer defenses?”

  “Yep,” Matt said. “According to the Stutchmans original plans it was to circle their entire residence and grounds. They had contacted a security firm on Ploschard to supply a particularly nasty system to run along the top. No warning or alert, it just incinerated anyone trying to climb the wall. What we were mad at was the time and effort taken to build this section. It could have been used to put up a dozen houses.”

  “Did they complete the wall?”

  “No, just this one side. It runs in a straight line for a kilometer so you can judge the area they wanted to enclose for their own personal uses. Stories are still surfacing of the many things they had intended. We interrupted them before they could start most of them. One engineer said that Ben went into a rage when he was told that they couldn’t build him a beach house for at least a hundred years.”

  “Ah, yes, methane clouds.”

  “Could you explain that? In the past year and a half I’ve had so much to learn that there are things I haven’t gotten around to yet.”

  “It was the same on Hebram when I was there. The bacteria that converted the atmosphere is now a sludge at the bottom of the ocean. Methane from decomposition frequently bubbles to the surface and has to be ignited before it travels across land. Any one living next to the ocean would be eventually either suffocated by the gas or incinerated by the explosion. That’s why they won’t be able to put an old fashioned ship on the seas for another hundred years. The sudden upwelling of gas bubbles makes the water less dense and a ship would sink.”

  They walked through a large gap in the wall that looked as if it was originally designed to accommodate a fortified gate. Beyond, a wide path led to the government buildings in the distance. Paralleling the path were the foundations of what Jim knew to be a moving sidewalk. Once completed, visitors to the capitol building wouldn’t have to walk the distance from the vast parking lot.

  “Won’t all that released gas eventually revert the planet’s atmosphere back to the way it was?”

  “No, the bacteria was a temporary measure to quickly clear the atmosphere for habitation. The next stage is a massive growth of vegetation everywhere. A couple of your continents would now be rapidly turning into jungles. They have to remove the carbon as it appears and deposit it.”

  “Is that what those compost valleys are?”

  “I believe that’s the term. Deep valleys where they grow another genetically engineered plant that builds up to a depth of over a kilometer. Then they cover it with rock and earth. Gasses of decomposition vented through pipes are used to burn for power. The rest turns to peat and in a few million years will be coal.”

  “That means carbon dioxide still gets back into the atmosphere. Will this be a never ending cycle?”

  “Something like that. I have seen flow diagrams for what they are going to have to do for the next ten thousand years. It looks like a map of the old Los Angeles freeway system. One good thing about it is that energy into the system comes from the planet’s sun and plant growth. Energy out can be used for power. In converting the planet you have a ready supply for the next ten thousand years.”

  Small quartz crystals glittered from the reddish granite walls of the capitol building as Matt and Jim climbed the basalt steps leading to the giant ornately carved doors at the building’s front. Jim was familiar with the technique of using local rock and fusing it with tremendous heat to form the one piece walls of a structure. It was said that the pseudo metamorphic material would last a thousand years, but none of them had been in existence long enough to test the boast.

  The central building sat on spacious grounds that were obviously planned to accommodate expansion as the population grew and government became more complex. The colonists seemed to have adopted the general galactic attitude that one should plan hundreds of years in advance when laying out civilization as it is now.

  Gardens of the newer genetically engineered flowers mixed with more traditional Earth varieties decorated the grounds and adjacent park. Jim turned to see the giant lake before entering with a group of well dressed citizens. Small foil boats, copies of ones he had seen on Brougham’s Folly, sailed the still surface.

  “It’s built on the foundations of the Stutchman mansion,” Matt said. “They’d already leveled the land and melted one hell of a solid block, so we didn’t want to waste it.”

  “I like it. It’s easily the equal to any capitol I’ve seen on any planet.”

  They entered a giant anteroom centered by a fountain and walked toward a second set of doors at the other end. The sounds of a moderately heated argument came from beyond.

  “Hey there,” Sam said as he approached Jim and gripped his hand. “I’d like ta thank ya fer a commin’ ta ma weddin’ next week.”

  “When I got the invitation you couldn’t keep me away.”

  “Ah’m out here ‘cause ah couldn’t stands much more of them bone heads in there a arguin’. Strong central government, weak central government, no central government. Ah cain’t understand most of it. They’re into general comments from the floor at the moment.”

  “Shall we go in and see?” Matt said.

  “Why not?” Jim said, walking toward the door.

  “...there must be some form of recourse if the head of government is found incompetent,” a man standing in the middle of the giant room said.

  Comfortable chairs in rows, theater style, faced a low dias on which sat nine men and women behind small desks. A male in his mid-forties rose from the dais to rebut the first speaker’s comment.

  “We cannot have a government that swings this way and that on the fads and whims of the general masses. That would be totally counterproductive. An executive term of eight standard years would give them a chance at seeing things through instead of having one way scrapped to accommodate the thinking of another government. The extra time would allow work to be accomplished, rather than half done then changed.”

  The dark man with greying temples spoke with eloquence and precision. His mellow voice was that of an orator and he used it to advantage.

  The three found seats together and watched as the man returned to his own seat.

  “Damn Stutchman,” a heckler called.

  The man on the dais jumped to his feet again with a furious expression. “We are not insane,” he said, enunciating each word. “It’s pure logic. We need a strong central government that doesn’t have to contend with the erratic mood swings of public opinion. That stupid system where people vote over the 3V on any issue is just that, stupid. We are not like those other people in the galaxy. We have a different background. It was Thomas Jefferson that said, ‘I am thoroughly convinced that man left to his own devices cannot govern himself.’ In our precarious position it’s necessary to vote a professional government into office then leave them alone to do their job.”

  Jim leaned toward Sam. “I take it that ‘Stutchman’ is a derogatory term for the politically right wing?”

  “Yep. That’s William Darlison, ah calls his group the know nothin’s, and ah have called them that in public too.”

  “Next speaker,” said the woman occupying the center seat on the dais.

  A short dark woman ros
e from her seat in the audience and cleared her throat. Matt pointed to the arm of the chair where several labeled touch pads and a light were conveniently placed. “You request to speak with this control and when selected the light lights up.”

  “My subject is on the immigration policy. Mr. Carpenter, I don’t see how your attitude of an open door policy can possibly benefit the Earth born population. These people have the advantages of education and experience we don’t have. They’ll take over our industries, our economy and our land. One family in my area has already got an unfair proportion of the retail business. Eventually Earth borns will be relegated to a lower class enslaved by these galactic creeps.”

  A general low applause from many present acknowledged the woman as she retook her seat. A tall blond man on the far left of the dais stood to reply.

  “Madam, you underestimate the abilities of us Earthies. We can learn from...”

  “We can do that on 3V!” a heckler yelled.

  “That we can also do, but...”

  “Carpenter, you suck Batalavian cock!” another man yelled.

  “Now we have to keep things civil,” Carpenter pleaded.

  “Yack the civil shit!” the same man yelled. “I don’t want my business taken over by money grubbing assholes. They’ve all been genetically altered to give them an advantage. We all know they are no longer human. Keep them off this planet. We’re the only humans left. Their ancestors came from a test tube.”

  Shouts of agreement sounded from various parts of the room. Jim watched as uniformed police officers rushed from the entrance in the direction of the agitator. They walked slowly and deliberately while glancing left and right obviously concerned about a possible trouble from other directions.

  Carpenter wiped the growing sweat from his forehead. “You know that isn’t true.”

  “Bull, what have those genetic freaks promised you in exchange for our human planet you traitor!”

  The two officers worked their way along the rows toward the man just as the woman in the center of the dais stood. “Young man, you’re out of order!” the woman yelled.

  An officer seized the man by the arm and started to drag him toward the aisle. “Shit, he’s got a gun!” a nearby woman yelled as the second officer jumped the back of a seat and attempted to wrestle the man down.

  People sitting nearby leapt to their feet and jumped the backs of chairs to clear the area. Out of the corner of one eye, Jim saw another woman suddenly stand and punch the man sitting next to her in the face.

  “Out of the Commonwealth!” the protester yelled as he was dragged down the aisle and toward the main doors. Others took up the call. As Jim looked around, fights were breaking out everywhere.

  “Here we go again,” Matt said as he grabbed Jim’s sleeve and started toward the door. “Time to leave; you can get your honors later. This is why I asked you not to bring Carol. Last time a non-earthborn attended the meeting a small group beat the hell out of him. The police were so slow in responding it seemed like they wanted to see him injured.”

  A crowd of the noncombatants fought its way through the exits as the room filled with screaming and yelling. Struggling through the swirling masses, it took the threesome ten minutes to gain the safety of open space.

  “Mr. Young,” said a newsman backed by a camera crew as Jim walked in the direction of the parking lot. “May I have a couple of minutes of your time?”

  Jim looked around to see if the violence was following. “If you make it quick,”

  The cameraman swung his 3V camera screen around and nodded to the newsman.

  “Mr. Young, you were in the council meeting when the trouble broke out, what is your opinion...”

  “Hey,” a man said while walking past, “you’re that newsman from Regis, aren’t you?”

  “Yes I am, can I ask you to...”

  “Go home you mutant Regisian freak!” the man interrupted as he took a wild swing which connected with the newsman’s jaw.

  Jim jumped between them and gently pushed the man away as Matt reached for the fallen newsman.

  “You’re that turncoat Young!” the man yelled in Jim’s face. “You married one of them genetic nightmares. Tell me, are your kids going to have two heads or three?”

  Jim cocked his fist as he desperately tried to control his temper. While he paused to decide a course of action Sam landed a solid right to the side of the man’s face taking the decision from him. He staggered back and fell into a bed of blue and yellow flowers.

  “Ya dern fool!” Sam yelled. “Y’all ‘bout as smart as ma old mule back in Georgia.”

  The three turned and continued down the path. A young woman, who had witnessed the event, stepped aside.

  “Mr. Young,” the woman said, “only a small, noisy, ignorant minority think that way. I’ve seen your wife on 3V and she’s a lovely lady. Don’t pay any attention to those idiots.”

  “Thank you and I won’t,” Jim said with a smile and nod as they walked past.

  “Them people that thainks the rest of the folks in the galaxy are different are the ones ah calls ‘Know Nothin’s’. Ah have called them that on the 3V. Darlison don’t like me much fer that. He says they changed theirselves after they left Earth.”

  “Are you sure they are a minority? There was a lot in there.”

  “Yep, they’re the ones that shows up,” Sam said. “They keeps a runnin’ off anyone that disagrees with them.”

  Just short of the parking lot the path widened. A circular bench seat stood in the middle of a large round rest area. Standing on the seat was a familiar face. His arms raised and outstretched as he talked to all passing the spot. It was Ben Stutchman, his face had grown thin and haggard and his clothes were dirty and badly in need of repair.

  “My people!” he shouted. “The time is growing near when I, the eleventh horn, will lead you out into the universe to fulfill our destiny. I, Abaddon, have used the key and opened the bottomless pit and released pain and confusion on man. The leopard that was the French Empire and the De Poulet fowl that rode its back is gone. I will witness the destruction of two thirds of man. I am your King, your Emperor, beloved by all that do not have the mark.”

  “You were right,” Jim said as they hurried past, “he’s nuttier than ever.”

  * * *

  Earl stood as they entered the room. “That was a good solid right Sam. I saw it all happen on 3V.”

  “Well, that there fellah had it a comin’”

  Matt walked to an armchair and sat while beckoning the rest to do the same. “It’s mostly the people from the second ship that cause the problems. They left Earth five years after we did and tend to be a rougher lot. It seems that things completely disintegrated during that time and they’re accustomed to a continual fight for survival. I’ve heard stories of mass murder, cannibalism and all sorts of nasty things.”

  “Nasty things?” Laura commented. “Your terminology’s too mild for what happened. Remember the story we heard about the family with four children who were rostered to go and then dropped because there wasn’t enough room for the kids. They killed the family that was to take their place then killed two of their own children.”

  “We’re not all that bad,” said an attractive dark haired lady in her early forties as she entered the room. “Sam, I don’t think that guy you popped in the mouth is going to forget you for a while.”

  Sam reached out and gave the woman a long hug. “Well ah saw that Jim was about ta hit him anyhow and ah didn’t wants them know nothin’s mad at him too. We’ve got enough trouble as it is, and they knows ah have already bumped a few heads together.”

  The woman walked over and gave Jim and Carol a hug. “Nice to see you two in person for a change.”

  Sam’s fiancée, Joan, had spoken to Jim and Carol on a number of occasions in the past six months over the V phone system. She was an extremely friendly woman with a personality that triggered an instant trust with the majority of people she met.

  “We
saw Ben on the way back,” Matt said.

  Laura smiled. “Is he still raving about being the Emperor?”

  “Oh yes, and now he’s going to lead us out to fulfill our destiny. This time he had another name for himself. It was Abaddan or something.”

  “Abaddon,” Jim said. “I did quite an extensive bit of research when I got back to Batalavia. The Fifth Angel that Karla referred to when she released the Stutchmans has another name, it’s Abaddon....”

  “Extensive research?” Carol interrupted in a sarcastic tone. “Remember I was there when you picked up a data pad, tapped into the university’s encyclopedia, and entered the words ‘The Fifth Angel’. It told you all about it without you having to leave your chair.”

  “Would you be quiet,” Jim snapped. “I’m trying to promote the image that I’m intelligent and you’re ruining things.”

  “So what did it say?” Earl asked.

  “It’s biblical, as the term angel implies, a prophecy from Revelations. Abaddon unlocks the door to the bottomless pit and releases a plague on man. Abaddon, or the Fifth Angel, not only releases, but commands the plagues as their king.”

  “What sort of plague?” Matt asked.

  “People have been trying to figure that out for centuries. It’s described as locusts with the faces of men and hair of women and something about golden crowns. There is also mention of iron breast plates and the sound of chariots racing into battle.”

  “Yep,” Sam said. “Ah learned ta read from the Bible. That there horn thaing he was a talkin’ ‘bout ah thaink is from the Old Testament. Somethin’ ‘bout one king a takin’ over.”

  Joan jumped for the pad by the side of her chair and enthusiastically started to make entries.

  “So,” Earl said, “did that give you any information as to who Karla thought Charles was?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well?... Are you going to tell us?”

  “No.”

  “He won’t even tell me,” Carol said.

  “How did you figure it out?” Matt said.

  “I put together the bits and pieces. She came from 1969, she once lived in a commune in the Mojave desert, the fifth angel…”