Beast Machine

by Brad McKinniss

  “Please don’t say faggot, though. It’s just unnecessary and offensive.” Jeffrey sipped his coffee quickly; McCarthy was rubbing him the wrong way with this talk. “How would you like it if I called you a geriatric slobber knocker?” Jeffrey wasn’t good at calling people names.

  “Well, first, I’d laugh,” replied McCarthy. He stuck his finger up in the air and then laughed heartily. He lowered his finger. “Then, I’d be over it already.”

  “That may be your take on it, but let’s cease this faggot talk? Not everyone is as thick-skinned as you.”

  “Hmm. Fine. Sure.” McCarthy removed his feet from the coffee table and looked about the room. “I’ll stop saying faggot if you listen to a few stories of mine. I haven’t talked to anyone about this before and I’m sure you’ll find some of it interesting or some pussy shit like that.” McCarthy decided he may as well take his chance with Chairman Obelis over The Flagship.

  “I’ve got time to kill, old man, so sure,” said Jeffrey. He crossed his legs and readied his listening skills. Eyes wide open and ears perked up.

  “Thank you, Jeffrey,” said McCarthy. He placed his feet back on the coffee table and leaned back on the couch into a comfortable position. “Before I begin, is there anything you’d like to know about me or about my past?”

  Without giving it a thought, Jeffrey said, “No, not really. I try not to think of you that often.”

  McCarthy scoffed, “Fine. I guess I’ll tell you about the big, spooky shadow group – The Flagship. They’re the big reason your lover – erm, boss – released me from my comatose state decades early.”

  “I’d actually love to hear about that organization, as Chairman Obelis rarely speaks about them. I’ve only heard bits and pieces about them; I’m not even sure if they’re still a functioning organization. Or even real.”

  “Oh, Jeffrey, they’re very real. Very real and obscenely powerful, at least they were powerful when I knew them.” McCarthy sneezed into his handkerchief, though zero slime came out this time. “They were the puppet masters; they were the true rulers of humanity. I’m pretty sure they still are pulling strings all over the world. In some capacity.”

  “How so? The history books would have had something on them. A secret organization doesn’t just escape modern history, or even verbal conspiracy theories. The Freemasons, the Illuminati, Mormons – you don’t just escape modern history like that, even when you get to write the history books, someone will blow the whistle on your organizations.”

  “But they’ve accomplished just that! They’ve done such an incredible job of keeping themselves unknown. I don’t know if I could identify them, if they’re still alive. The few permanent group members constantly change their appearance, their location and their occupation. I’d only be able to know who they were by paying attention to mannerisms.” McCarthy decided to not reveal to Jeffrey that every Flagship member had a permanent tattoo that properly identified them, regardless of their physical appearance.

  Jeffrey cut McCarthy off, “Whatever, old man, let’s hear about what this group has supposedly done. I don’t really care who the members are and how good they are at hide and seek. Tell me what makes them so powerful.”

  “Okay, okay. Now, you’ve heard about the World Wars, right?”

  “Obviously, I’m not a dunce.” Jeffrey was mildly offended at McCarthy’s innocuous question.

  “Just checking. Well, what if I told you The Flagship were the ones that helped start both of those wars?”

  “I’d say you’re crazy.”

  “Ha! I’ve always been a little ca-razy, Jeffrey,” laughed McCarthy. “It is known that the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand spurred the First World War, but it was The Flagship that truly set the war into motion many years beforehand. The Flagship killed the archduke’s cousin, Prince Rudolf, at a hunting lodge. It was made to look like a suicide. A very believable claim, as Prince Rudolf had known mental disorders and made a suicide pact with a mistress.

  “With Prince Rudolf dead, this left Franz’s father Karl Ludwig in line for the throne of Bohemia. The Flagship did nothing to Ludwig, as he died of typhoid fever several years later. They knew that Ludwig was bound to die of his own accord since he was rather clumsy and had horrible hygiene. Him dying too early may have caused complications too, so they just waited and let him die naturally.”

  McCarthy picked his nose and flung the resulting booger at the nearest window. A tiny splat could be heard and Jeffrey trembled with minor rage. He suppressed the rage as he wanted to hear more about The Flagship.

  “Apologies for that. Now that Prince Rudolf and Karl Ludwig were dead, Franz was now first in line for the throne of Bohemia! This is exactly what The Flagship wanted and they bided their time to get it. They’re very patient – waiting years, decades to strike. Anyhow, Franz was brash with his ideals, he was obnoxious around the other leaders of Bohemia, and he had a notoriously short temper that led to violent outbursts. Despite this, he was a man of the people, truly a common man’s man. He wanted his fellow man to truly succeed and prosper in life, something the other leaders did not want. The other Bohemian leaders could put up with a violent asshole because the violence was never taken out on them, but they would never want the average man rise up in the world – they were terrified of being associated with the average man.

  “This caused the other Bohemian leaders to hire an assassin, Gavrilo Princip, at the behest of The Flagship through many letters. The Bohemian leaders believed the information was from rebel Frenchmen that had ties to Bohemia, but it was just another ruse from The Flagship as they always disguised the information they sent.

  “Anyway, Princip was Serbian and one of the millions of Serbians that wanted out from under the Bohemian rule to create their own state. He was the perfect man to do the job, so they paid him handsomely – he did, however, give the money to his family. He may have been a dirty assassin, but he knew he’d hang once the world knew what he had done. It was smart to give the money to his family.

  “The day Princip assassinated Archduke Franz Ferdinand, and Franz’s wife Sophie, there were five other planned assassinations to disguise the motive of the leaders of Bohemia. The death of Franz caused quite the stir as his loyal supporters began to riot in the streets, looking for Serbs to kill to avenge his death once word traveled that the assassin was a Serbian man. The rioting and the assassinations caused neighboring Eastern European countries to intervene to help settle the violence, which eventually led to Germany entering the fray – exactly what The Flagship wanted! They always get their way!”

  McCarthy coughed loudly and readjusted his body on the couch.

  “The Flagship had wanted a major European player to join the ensuing battle and got their wish when Germany began to vie for control over the Bohemian region, effectively beginning the First World War. They helped with the rise of Adolph Hitler by keeping him safe during the First World War and preventing his entry into an art school, but that’s another story for another time.”

  Jeffrey, ensnared by the story, asked, “But weren’t the leaders found out? I can’t imagine people were likely to keep their mouths shut about something so tremendous.”

  “Ah, forgot that part ,” said McCarthy. “The Bohemian leaders, though idiotic in their plan that led to a World War, were smart enough to ask The Flagship to help find someone to blame. Thus, the blame was foisted upon a single man for planning all six assassinations. Danilo Ilić was the fall man, and the perfect one as he, like Princip, wanted a separate Serbian state, except Ilić wanted to do so peacefully. He was the perfect guy to blame as there was just enough evidence on him to warrant being the man behind the assassinations. He was killed by Bohemian forces shortly after the Archduke’s death, but that, obviously, didn’t stop the fighting.”

  Jeffrey was stunned at the story. He had so many questions but decided to ask the one that kept bouncing around his head. He asked, “How could one organization know this all would happen? Exactly like
that?”

  McCarthy raised his eyebrows, “They just knew, my friend, they just knew. They’re experts at understanding humans and how we’re going to react to certain situations. Plus, it was known that Franz was a loudmouth and hated many of his fellow rulers because of their disdain toward the common peoples. By putting Franz in a position of power, he was bound to cause some sort of large-scale battle – directly or indirectly – which is what The Flagship wanted to have happen. They have middlemen that they hire, and then later dispose of, that gather information from all regions in the world. Sometimes, though, the main members will do the dirty work themselves and they had incredible technology to do so, even back then.” McCarthy’s saggy face began to droop lower. “They may still be pulling heavy strings today, but I’d have no clue on what strings they were pulling, as there are so many conflicts happening today. They could be behind all of the conflicts, none of them, or only some of them. I do know they helped create many government spying agencies across the globe. The names of those agencies have changed over the years – I’d have to use that web box to look up the proper information.”

  “I’m flabbergasted at this, Joe,” Jeffrey said meekly. He cupped his head with his hands as if this story had begun the process of brain implosion. “It just seems so implausible, but so does reviving a guy from the 1950’s! Ugh! I don’t know what to believe.”

  “They missed on their main goal, however,” said McCarthy darkly. “I guess I misspoke when I said they always get their way.”

  “How did they miss? They got all the major countries involved in a war. That’s a direct hit, Joe!”

  “The Flagship wanted the United States to join the conflict immediately, but on the side of the Germans. Not the allied powers.”

  “So these Flagship people wanted us to join the Nazis?”

  “No,” said McCarthy, “They weren’t Nazis yet; don’t you know your history?”

  Jeffrey, still shell shocked from this conversation, shook his head slowly to his left then slowly to his right telling McCarthy, “No. Apparently not.”

  “They were hoping the United States, where an overwhelming amount of people were German or had German heritage lived, would join with the German Reich. German-Americans and white Americans in general had a lot in common with German ideals back then. It would’ve changed human history so drastically; it’s hard to even comprehend how different the world would be had that happened. The United States could have helped Germany take over most of Europe, if not most of the world. Or the United States could have lost miserably with Germany and we would have been under occupation by some other country.”

  “But why did they want the United States to join Germany? Why would they want that?” said Jeffrey quietly.

  “I don’t think you’d be able to hear that truth at the moment,” laughed McCarthy. “You’re already shaking quite a bit, Jeffrey.”

  “You’re right. Damn, I’m… I’m gonna go for now, that’s a lot to take in, Joe,” said Jeffrey, stumbling over his words. He wasn’t sure if the coffee affected the seriousness of the conversation or if his brain actually was imploding from learning this new information. Either way, Jeffrey was filled to the brim with conspiratorial information from a Senator from the 1950s and he needed to lie down. His nausea was too damn high to be talking about serious matters.

  “Ha! I’m glad we had this talk, let’s do it again in a few days?”

  “Sure… sure. I would like that, I think.” Jeffrey repressed some vomit and gagged loudly.

  Chapter 31

  Shallow Grave

  “I want all the Aryan boys – Aryan German Boys – gathered up and put into a youth camp of sorts,” said a man. He wore a suave military uniform that looked ready for a military hearing, not battle. He was issuing instructions to multiple men, but only one man was recording the message.

  “What would the name be?” said a smaller man, writing down what his apparent leader was saying. He was to give the instructions to military leaders not present at the meeting.

  “It will be called the Hitler Youth,” smiled Adolf Hitler. “It will be a military camp for our young boys. A place where they can learn how to become men, learn how to survive in the wild, learn to appreciate the military leadership, learn how to shoot properly, learn about Germany’s rich and powerful history, and, most importantly, learn how to hate our enemies.”

  “Well done, sir, well done,” said the smaller man. His writing turned to unintelligible scribbles that only he would be able to read. “Is there anything else I would need to relay to the men?”

  “You have the gist of how a camp for our young Germans would be run, yes?”

  “Yes, sir, I do,” said the smaller man. “I imagine it like a youth bootcamp for our young men before they enter the military.”

  “Good,” said Hitler. “Give each boy a dog, a shepherd dog.”

  “Sir?” said the smaller man. The few other men and the smaller man looked at each other in confusion. “Why a shepherd dog?”

  “Give each boy a shepherd dog. They will grow a strong bond and will both train as soldiers to fight against any incoming threats! It will be a wonderful bond,” said Adolf Hitler. A grim, sadistic smile began to grow on his face, a look that the other men were used to seeing during the crucial moments of the war. “Then after the boys and their dogs have been put through all the tests and finished all the necessary Hitler Youth requirements, I want the boys to kill their own dog.”

  “Sir? Could you repeat that last part?” said the smaller man; each of the other men were equally appalled but tried to stay emotionless toward the statement. No one wanted to disappoint the leader.

  Hitler’s grim smile faded and pursed lips of displeasure surfaced. He stood and contemplated the small man’s life, but decided to let the man off easy, as this information needed to be sent out immediately to begin the Hitler Youth program.

  “I said, ‘I want the boys to kill their own dog.’ I want them to slit their own dog’s throat like he is an enemy. There should be no empathy found in these boys after they are finished in the Hitler Youth. I will not repeat myself again.”

  The smaller man gulped loudly before saying, “One last thing, sir.”

  Hitler turned to the man with a look of annoyance. He nearly gave the signal to dispose of the man, before the man spoke.

  “Do our benefactors, I know you do not want us to say their name, know about this? The Hitler Youth program?”

  Hitler laughed. “Of course they do!” Hitler grabbed the smaller man’s cheeks and laughed loudly, “They’re the ones that actually came up with the idea for the kids to kill their dogs!”

  -----

  “HITBEAR! WAKE UP! WAKE UP!” yelled Tubman. She slapped the bear hard and repeatedly with her paws. Bop-bop-bop, bop-bop-bop, bop-bop-bop. “WAKE UP, HITBEAR!” Bop-bop-bop, bop-bop-bop, bop-bop-bop.

  She looked up at Owlbert and shouted, “He’s not waking up. Is there anything you can do, Owlbert?”

  Owlbert was flying over forty feet above the two mammals, still searching the area for any humans that might foil their plan. He had only seen other wildlife in the area. The sun was setting so Owlbert felt safe enough from any outsiders to fly down to his companions. “Ja, ein moment!” he replied. The barn owl beast dove down near Tubman and Hitbear, coming close to crashing into the earth, but landed safely on his two feet just beyond the unconscious Hitbear and the fist-frenzied Tubman.

  Bop-bop-bop, bop-bop-bop, bop-bop-bop her fists went once more, ignoring the graceful landing by Owlbert.

  “Vas seems to be ein problem, frau?” Owlbert peered over Hitbear’s face and leaned his beak into Hitbear’s mouth and then into his nose. Owlbert was looking for any items that could be blocking the bear’s airways, but found nothing and realized Hitbear was breathing perfectly fine. He removed his beak from the bear’s nostrils and shook his head viciously to remove any bear snot that had accumulated on his beak.

  “Well, he’s still breathing
, so that was completely unnecessary. He’s just not conscious. He fell over after he furiously began to dig this… this giant hole…” Tubman glared about the area that was supposed to only have one hole to dump Doctor Borehole’s body, but there wasn’t a human sized hole – there was a crater.

  Hitbear had dug so furiously after taking a short water break that he had made a crater. He had made a crater so large that it could be confused for a resting spot for a fallen space rock or the result of an earthquake.

  Tubman had not noticed Hitbear digging furiously until he dug through her dig site, obliterating any semblance of a balanced hole. Tubman watched Hitbear continue to obliterate the dirt of the open grassland until he suddenly had stopped and collapsed.

  He was now unconscious in the middle of the crater with his two beast companions trying to desperately awaken him before Gora, or another human, got to them. The mission of trying to kill then bury Doctor Borehole was the last thing on their minds. They didn’t want to be seized by anyone and become separated from Gora.

  “Ja, this ist not gut,” Owlbert hopped around Hitbear’s lifeless body. “Have du done much other than hit zee poor fellow?” He looked on at Tubman; she had continued to once again pummel Hitbear with her paws. Bop-bop-bop, bop-bop-bop, bop-bop-bop.

  “Well, no, but,” said Tubman, still hitting the bear. Bop-bop-bop, bop-bop-bop, bop-bop-bop.

  “Du enjoying this, ja?” laughed Owlbert.

  “No! It’s just; I can’t think of anything else!” she said loudly. Bop-bop-bop, bop-bop-bop, bop-bop-bop. “I hit things when I panic! And I’m panicked, damn it!” Bop-bop-bop, bop-bop-bop, bop-bop-bop.

  “Ah, I have ein plan; step back!” Tubman leapt off Hitbear and stood roughly six feet away. Owlbert nodded at Tubman and then dropped his beak deep into the hairy crevice known as Hitbear’s crotch. Owlbert’s beak found, after some rummaging into the hairy abyss, one of Hitbear’s testicles. He gingerly placed his beak around the testicle.