Kingdom of Gods

by F Stone

  Dr. Duncan glanced up incredulously at Sam. “I’m going in to do an exploratory. I don’t have the equipment here to rule out internal bleeding, and I’m almost certain that’s what’s happening.”

  Sidney held the towel to her chest and struggled to sit up. “You mean surgery? No, absolutely not. I’m not bleeding. There’s no need for surgery. No!”

  Dr. Duncan grabbed Sidney to get her to settle back down onto the bed.

  “Be quiet,” he demanded.

  “Doctor, let her go. She’s fine. Lorna said it herself — she’s had a busy day and took on too much too fast. If she says no to surgery, then we won’t do any surgery on her. Understood?”

  Dr. Duncan looked at Sam in disbelief. He let go of Sidney’s shoulders. “Captain … ”

  “We’ll talk about this later,” Sam said. “Right now, I’ve got to take this ship out to sea.”

  He disappeared through the doorway and out of the infirmary, but in Sidney’s mind, much of Sam’s presence remained in the room. She didn’t know what to think exactly. This man, who’d eventually carry out her execution and who seldom showed a hint of any emotion whatsoever, was considerate of her dignity and then came to her defense. She’d never known anyone quite so bizarre.

  Lorna fastened Sidney’s pajama top and coaxed her to relax. “Get some rest. Old Lorna’ll make sure no one gets any scalpels heated up.”

  The doctor shook his head and asked Lorna to keep him updated on her vitals. Then he stomped out of the room.

  Lorna followed him into his office. “Doc, since when have you been in such a fired up rush to cut someone open? That’s not your style. What gives?”

  Dr. Duncan tossed about some papers on his desk in frustration. “I’ve got my reasons.”

  “I think you’re just too curious to see what she looks like on the inside.” She chuckled and left the office with her head held high and a wiggle of her hips.

  Shortly after her supper tray was removed, Sam appeared at Sidney’s doorway in his usual indifferent manner. “You’ve recovered from this afternoon’s incident?”

  She thought it would be appropriate for her to stand to greet him. “Yes, Captain. I want to thank — ”

  His raised his hand in the air as he interrupted her. “No need. Stay on your bed, please. All your responses to the next several questions are being recorded. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Sam was confident she saw him as an ally. He’d defended her and displayed respect for her needs. He’d get all the damn questions answered, and he was certain the mystery would have a rational explanation.

  “It’s time you received formal notice of the charges laid against you.” His serious expression didn’t betray hostility or any other emotion. He was simply attending to business.

  Sidney would’ve preferred to stand, thinking that might take away a little of his dominance, but since he’d requested she stay on her bed, she sat up on her heels, raising herself to above his eye level.

  “Captain Butchart advised me briefly of what I was accused of.”

  Sam stood almost at attention and read his dissertation as if a judge was present. “Admiral Garland has charged you with sabotage and spying. You’ve been transferred to the USS Nonnah for interrogation. I’ll be carrying out the interrogation sessions. Up to three sessions each day. Is that understood?”

  “Yes. I already said I’d tell you what you want to know, at least what I remember.”

  “I expect your full cooperation. Do you understand the consequences if you’re found guilty of these charges?”

  The muscles in Sidney’s stomach tightened. She took one deep breath and looked back at Sam. “I recall mention of an execution, Captain.”

  “Correct. I have orders from Admiral Garland to carry out your execution. It will take place within twenty-four hours of confirming your guilt. Two shots at close range to the head with a pistol is the method of the execution. Death is instantaneous. Do you have any questions?”

  Sidney’s throat tightened and a chill penetrated to her core. She wanted to ask if he’d have the pleasure of personally carrying out those orders. Instead, she held her tongue and looked toward the porthole.

  “About a dozen, but I don’t think I’m ready for the answers yet. My head still feels like it’s in a fog.”

  Sam paused momentarily. Instead of following a drill, he mentally sorted files and strategy.

  “Do you admit that you defused the nuclear missiles on the New Seattle Naval Base?”

  Sidney thought for a moment. “I do remember being in a room with the missiles and that my intent was to defuse them. I believe I was successful.”

  “I’ll take that as a yes to my question. Did you have any assistance during the sabotage to gain access to secured facilities?”

  “No. No one helped me. I was on my own at all times.”

  “How did you gain access to the secured areas, such as the missile room?”

  “There was no lock on the missile room’s door.”

  “You accessed the subbasement tunnels from the administration building’s stairway. Is that correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “The door to the tunnels in the subbasement has a sophisticated locking mechanism. How did you open that door?”

  Sidney had to decide if there would be any harm in telling her interrogator of her Guardian telekinetic skills.

  “Captain, I can’t answer that.”

  “Why not?” he demanded.

  She squared her shoulders and made an attempt to show she could equal his tenacity. “Anything connected with my people is off limits.”

  “I don’t understand. How are your people connected with you getting a locked door open? Did they provide the knowledge on how to open it?”

  Sidney respected the captain’s intelligence. He refrained from emotional reactions and focused only on the facts and logic. She quickly came to the conclusion that she had to be more careful.

  “No, Captain. My people don’t have information about that door or its locking mechanism.”

  “Ah, that door. Is it fair to say they have information on how to open a variety of locking mechanisms?”

  “Yes.”

  “Therefore, your people are connected to your ability to open that door. They’re responsible for you gaining access to the tunnels.”

  Sidney stared at Sam. He’d successfully cornered her. “Touché, Captain Waterhouse. I’ll give you that one. But they have nothing to do with me being on the base.”

  “Okay, for now, I’ll accept that you were able to unlock that door because of whatever training you’ve received. I’ll also assume that you were trained to defuse the missiles using a similar method. They both operate by electronic devices. As a result, your technique on one would work on the other. Is that correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m curious to learn what that method is. For now, we’ll move on to other questions. Number one, why did you defuse the missiles?”

  “I was hired to defuse them. That’s all. What difference does it make why?”

  “The motive for defusing the missiles is important. For example, if you were doing something illegal to save a life, that would result in a different outcome. If you were defusing the missiles to put the United States of America at a disadvantage in defending Americans or American allies, that’s considered an act of war. Therefore, it’s important that I understand, without any doubts, your motives. Who hired you?”

  “Someone concerned about the future of this planet. That’s all I’ll say.”

  The captain frowned. “I’ll accept that for now. But I doubt your employer was interested in some mothballed missiles. That was a diversion. What was your primary mission?”

  Sidney endeavored not to change her posture, not so much as to even blink. “You have my confession. You have enough to carry out your execution, do you not?”

  “It’s not my execution. It’s the U.S. Naval Command’s directive.”


  Sidney began to tire but was not going to let this opportunity slide by. She quickly got off the bed and stood close to the captain.

  Her eyes narrowed. “I have serious doubts the U.S. Naval Command has any knowledge of me or what I did or that I’m on this ship about to be executed under the U.S. Naval Command’s authority at the direction of Frank Butchart. Do you understand that, Captain Waterhouse?” She maintained eye contact with Sam for a moment, and then, before her knees gave out on her again, climbed back up onto her bed and sat in her lotus position. “No disrespect intended, sir.”

  Sam paused. “None taken.” He stood silent for some time and made a mental note of her statement. She’d referred to Butchart — someone she shouldn’t know — in the familiar as “Frank Butchart.” He found that very odd. He shifted his position away from Sidney and studied the scanner above her bed. It had been turned off.

  “I should have figured you were feisty. No one goes through what you have and survives without being rather … spirited.”

  Sidney was becoming increasingly frustrated with her inability to maintain her mental focus and physical strength. Her body didn’t respond as well to her draw of the healing energy as it had usually done. It felt as though a stronger force was sedating her mind. She shook her head, trying to refocus.

  “I’m sorry, Captain. I shouldn’t take out my anger on you. You’ve been a gentleman. It’s Captain Butchart with whom I have a bone to pick.” She began to tremble and leaned forward over her knees, resting her head in her hands.

  “You do?”

  She immediately regretted revealing that there was more to her story. She had to be more careful. She laid her head down on the pillow.

  “I’m sorry. Just too dizzy to sit up. I guess I haven’t got the right to ask if we can continue with this interrogation tomorrow.”

  “You do have rights. I thought by now you’d realize that I’ll protect your rights as well as I protect the rights of my staff and superiors. Tomorrow we’ll both have clearer heads on our shoulders.”

  “Captain, I remember something odd about the first night I arrived on the ship. There was someone sitting here beside me on the bed. He was holding my hand. No one else was in here. Just one officer. Do you know who that was?”

  “You were in a coma. You must be mixed up from a dream or a hallucination.”

  “No, Captain. I’m certain. I remember it very clearly. I wish I knew who that was.”

  Sam looked away and fidgeted with his hat. “Why?”

  “Because he’s probably the reason I survived. He should know that his simple act of compassion perhaps performed a miracle. All these medical gadgets here in this room will sustain the body for a while. But they won’t keep body and soul together. Only something deeper can do that.”

  “I’ll check into who was here and pass along your gratitude to him. Will that be sufficient? People in the military get rather uncomfortable with receiving overt affection. You understand?”

  Sidney understood. She also noticed the hat Sam had in his hands — just like the one from her memory of that night.

  “Yes, thank you, Captain. Just let him know that perhaps I can return the favor one day.”

  Sidney pulled the bed covers up to her chin. Staring off into the distance, she spoke almost as if to herself.

  “It’s seems a little strange. Why would he take the time to sit with me, a prisoner?”

  Sam cleared his throat. “In my experience, when one is faced with death, those kinds of issues have little significance. When faced with death, people, even military men, do things they normally wouldn’t do.”

  Sidney didn’t respond. He put his hat on and headed for the door, but stopped.

  “Miss, do you know Captain Butchart?”

  She appeared to have already dozed off, but he saw her head briefly nod and utter a barely audible, “Uh huh.”

  Sam considered it odd for any civilian to know Butchart. For a short while, he stepped out of his captain’s mindset. He became just Sam. His expression softened, and his voice was caring.

  “I’ll open the porthole. The fresh air will help.”

  After he opened the porthole, he stood at the foot of the bed for a few minutes, studying his prisoner. He hit the comlink on his shirt and gave the command for the recording to end. Quietly, he left her room.

  10. Sidney’s Escape

  Early Morning, Sunday, July 7: The sound of voices outside Sidney’s porthole woke her. The loud banter was in Spanish. Except for small indicator lights blinking on equipment in the main room, the entire infirmary was dark. Quietly, Sidney slid out of her bed and listened more carefully at her porthole. The voices gradually disappeared into the night, and all was quiet again. Something else caught her attention — the ship was still anchored at a dock.

  The lights of the port shone into the water and traced the shoreline with their shimmering eyes. They winked at Sidney. Do I dare? she thought. Without taking any time to plan, she began her escape. She realized she was wearing pajamas and had no currency. Small matter. Getting off this boat will be half the battle. I’ll deal with the rest later.

  Peeking through the windows of her room into the infirmary, she saw no one. She figured someone must be nearby; there always was at least one medical assistant around. She slowly opened her door and checked to see if anyone was resting on the beds — all three were vacant. Her heart beat rapidly. Surely someone’s just outside the infirmary.

  Ever so silently, she opened the infirmary’s door and looked down the corridor. It was completely void of any people, and the lights had been dimmed, inviting her to slip through the doorway. She heard muffled footsteps. This was no time to hesitate. She sprang down the hallway.

  She quickly but silently trotted through passages and up stairways. She had to use her intuition to find the deck with the gangplank leading down to the dock. She wondered if anyone had spotted her on the security videos and dared to stop momentarily to listen for footsteps of guards in pursuit. She heard only the sound of her pounding heartbeat. The thought of soon being free was exhilarating. Her weak body received a massive surge of adrenaline, and she sprinted to a doorway through which she could see the harbor lights.

  Opening the door just a fraction, she felt a rush of the cool night air. Again she heard no sound of people. The ship was almost motionless, as if waiting for her to make her move. Just beyond the door, she saw the wide expanse of the ship’s main deck. She passed through the door and clung to a wall as she scanned for a ramp, inching her way toward the bow until she saw it. She heard voices, the same Spanish speaking ones that had woken her. The men were amusing themselves in some game — perhaps cards, she thought. Between her current position and the ramp, there was no cover to conceal her movement. Still, she had to chance it.

  But first, if she were to fool the men, she had to look like she belonged — give them the impression she’d been a “visitor” and was leaving before the sun rose. She rolled up her pajama sleeves and legs in an attempt to make it look like a funky kind of sun outfit. She tied the shirttails of the top into a knot and undid most of the snaps, hoping the men might simply admire her body and not notice the navy insignia on the material. It was her only chance. Finally, she raced to the ramp.

  She could see that the men at the bottom weren’t concerned with watch duty. They were seated at a card table several feet away from the ramp, and their cheerful banter went on as poker chips were scooped up by the winner. She could have waved at them and she doubted they’d have noticed.

  The ramp was long and sturdy. As she stepped onto it, she stood up straight and took in a deep breath. Slowly, she descended. In her mind, she rehearsed the Spanish she’d learned. She casually played with her hair as if she was relaxed and simply attempting to tame it in the breeze.

  Then, to her surprise, Seamus appeared before her. Sidney was shocked. Never had he ever shown himself to her in this dimension.

  Seamus, is something wrong? she mentally asked.r />
  Her spirit guide remained several feet away from her. His blue tartan cloak and dark hair waved in the night air with the breeze’s taunting.

  “My precious, there is only the higher good. Your struggle to survive has turned your focus inward to the self. The higher good is beyond the self. Reach for the higher good, Sidney.”

  Sidney reached for him. The closer she came, the more his form evaporated into the night until she could no longer see him.

  Seamus, I want to go home.

  “You may go home, Sidney. But you may never be free of this ship and its people. Do you remember how the admiral’s secrets followed you?”

  Yes. I’d become a part of those secrets. Knowledge of the admiral’s plans tormented me at times, like a song that keeps playing in my head.

  “So, can you go home and not wonder if your disappearance created hardship, perhaps even death?”

  Seamus, I’d never … Sidney suddenly saw the consequences of her escape. You mean, the admiral would blame, maybe even accuse the ship’s officers of … oh no. I couldn’t live with that. But, Seamus, oh, please. I want to go home!

  Seamus appeared again briefly and winked. “You were home just the other day, Sidney — with me. Forget not your true home, my precious. Listen to your heart. Know with every beat that’s where you’ll find me … and your home. Your heart will guide you to see choices which lead to the higher good.”

  As he vanished again, he swept over her body, touching her heart with his love. Sidney stood silent in the night, a statue on the ramp. Unable to move in either direction, up or down, she felt frozen in her mind. Either way, she’d experience pain and regret.

  The sound of footsteps approaching from the ship’s deck brought her out of her trance. She crouched down against the walls and braced herself for an attack. She glanced up to the top of the ramp. It was Sam.

  He was wearing his jogging clothes and was focused only on the deck in front of him. When he neared the ramp, he stopped and grabbed onto the ship’s railing. Seeing the guards at the bottom, he called to them greeting them and asking how they’d been.