THE GATE KEEPER

by JULES GABRIEL

  Before we could get a chance to head outside the station we come face to face with a group of men. A group of five lawmen stands before us and staring at us as if we were criminals. They all dress up in desert brown coat. The front man was an old man with a white hair and moustache. His eyes remain covers under the cowboy’s Stetson.

  ‘Philip, you’re not in a hurry aren’t you?’ The old man says to my saviour.

  ‘I am sheriff….unless you’re got something for me,’ Philip replied frowningly.

  ‘Yes we have, but I need to know where your friend got hurt?’ Sheriff suspiciously asked as he laid one of his hands on Philip’s chest.

  He stares at my injured leg as if examining the nature of my wound. With cold eyes he stares back through Philip’s eyes as if searching for the truth by examining his response.

  ‘Well! Can’t catch your tongue?’ The sheriff arrogantly pressurised Philip.

  ‘My friend fell down by accident. Is there a problem Sheriff?’

  ‘In fact there is something fishy going on here. Your friend bleeds too much for a simple fall,’ sheriff scowled as he spoke his mind.

  ‘Is there a law on how my friend should bleed after a fall?’ Philip sarcastically demanded as he tries to force his way by diverting the gang of lawmen.

  Sheriff stands in front of us, scold Philip firmly by his collar and says, ‘Pay great attention to what I’m about to tell you son. Your friend is bad news for all of us here. Message from the gate keepers is that you’re on your way to my town delivering a hot package. Nobody come into my town and get away with crimes. Both of you need to come with me for further interrogation at my station.’

  Philip put his head down. Weak and without energy I look at him while I wait for his reply. He stares at me and I produce a negative nod to him. Philip stares at the sheriff and kick the sheriff in his belly. He flows backwards into the arms of his four lawmen. They all catch him.

  He went for his gun which was hidden behind his coat in a holster as his men bring him to his feet. Immediately Philip went for his gun at his side and point at them.

  ‘Don’t you even dare to think about it!’ Philip harassed him in order to neutralise the threat.

  Sheriff was the only one with his weapon out but he did not have a chance to aim it. His men’s hands were behind their coat. Their face clearly defines numbness. Philip’s move had been unexpected.

  ‘Put the weapon on the floor and there’s no special treatment for your boys as well!’ Philip seriously barks out to the sheriff and his men.

  Sheriff stares at both of us with that cold look.

  ‘You hear the man, drop it.’ Sheriff said as he laid his gun on the floor.

  His men did the same.

  ‘Kick it towards us.’ I ordered with hardhead intent.

  They did as requested and Philip kick each one in the magnetic rail, still pointing his weapon at them. Cautiously we divert them without taking our eyes off them. Being afraid of losing their lives they slowly back off as we left for outside. A vehicle floating inches to the ground comes to life with a swishing sound. It moves for us and we both ride out of the train station.

  Still on autopilot Philip dictates, ‘Destination home.’

  The computer on board tails its owner’s vocal and a screen in the middle displays the upload. Our vehicle silently and quickly slips through the floating traffic as it climbs towards the sky. Down on the ground outside the blazing station, the sheriff and his deputies walk out and stares at the illuminating dark sky of traffic.

  The tiny robotic dragonfly had caught it all. It has tape the confrontation. It had move furtively above Philip and Phil. Outside it had a magnetic field which enable it to fix itself on the hovering air mobile. It laid in dormant mode as the vehicle hovered for the dark sky.

  16

  ‘I chose to live here close to this little town as it’s in the middle of nowhere. The best place to hide and as you can see most of us here are a fan of your work.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘In Texas we’re not a fan of the black gold. We simply do not entertain oil drilling and we all used the clean energy technology as you can see for yourself. Some are a bit outdated like those that depended on the sun and wind to move but your team had managed to modify it for those who are after cheaper vehicles.’

  I look through the window and enjoy the futuristic vehicles and machines passing by. They were of different forms, shapes and size. Some hovers off the ground but I was curious about their movements. They did not have any gravitational source of energy attach at their side.

  My curiosity forces me to call for science fact, ‘how do those without any sources of anti-gravitational machine managed to float around?’

  ‘Have you heard of the term anti-gravity propulsion mechanism?’

  ‘Isn’t that the same principles that scientist suggest that the unidentified flying objects spotted worldwide from 1948 and 2011 work?’

  ‘Switch on mind, you’ve got and indeed it is.’ He confirmed.

  We watch the passing hovering machines as they move around. Some even have the shape of the UFO design. The disc like object seems to be moving faster than the other vehicles. They operate at different heights.

  ‘This technology came into development during world war two by a German under the name of Nikola Tesla. After he passed away the prototype disappeared. Somehow the corporation manage to get their hands on it and suppress the information from us. For century, since 1948 they had kept us in the dark for too long. This technology mysteriously opposes the laws of dynamics. For the science community it’s just a slap in the face. They simply denied its existence and used the term science fiction to it.’

  There was a strange sound with our signal and the computer on board responds, ‘a locator signal at a low pitch is being spread within our region.’

  Philip looks at the screen and demands, ‘where is it from?’

  ‘Still unknown for the moment but like usual it holds undetectable information,’ the computer rectifies.

  Riddle with question I ask, ‘what’s a locator signal.’

  ‘An information signal unleashed to locate a certain target. It’s usually used by the secret forces for them to locate the opposition. It contains information vital for their enemies but at the same time the data is used as a bait to trace the intended target.’ Philip expressed as he glanced at the night sky of traffic.

  Curiously I ask, ‘can’t we listen to it?’

  ‘Like I said it shall be a suicidal to try and do so. Unless….’

  ‘Unless what?’

  ‘Unless I ask the computer to deliver the message for fourteen seconds before we’re spotted. Note that after decrypting the vital message we’ve got fifteen seconds to assimilate and knock off the air. If we corrupt their signal as we open their file it shall lend us another fifteen minutes. Each time they think that they have found us they shall end up with a bogy. We shall be everywhere in another country or states. Otherwise they shall found us and pin triggered an electronic magnetic field. Once this hit our vehicle we shall head down without power. Hitting the ground from this height?’ He says joyfully and carries on, ‘well we’re doom, suffering from the crash, mutilation and burn alive.’

  I glance at him and have to admit, ‘fourteen seconds of learning about my future is still worth the risk.’

  ‘Computer decrypts the locator signal, corrupt their signal and cut it off two seconds before their computer find us.’ Philip explained.

  Mute the computer performs the instructed operation. We could hear the noise of the signal being decrypted as the screen displays lines of frequencies against the search frequency. Immediately it found it and a three dimensional image of a man well dress in a black suit appears.

  The hologram image says, ‘greetings gentlemen to where ever you are. I assumed you already know who I am. Hand over yourselves is the only alternative you’ve both got. Beside we won’t get rid of you as you must have known that you�
�re too vital for our history. Erasing you from the equation is simply tempering with our past and affecting our present and future at the same time. There’s no chance of you who they call the saviour shall ever win. Take a look at us in your time. We’re everywhere in everything you buy and consume. Do not allow us to waist our resources to find you as we shall not be merciful.’

  ‘Twenty eight seconds,’ the computer warned. The warning which allowed us to know exactly how much time we got left before they can track and lock our position.

  Philip glances at me and says, ‘done!’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘The honour is mine.’ Philip responded as he smiles at me.

  Our vehicle hovers in the dark arid land. The screen displays night vision mode imagery. It splits into two, one displaying the back and while the other shows the front. I stare at it while I rest in agony. We ride out in the open desert. Out of nowhere a port from the ground open and we ride in it. We descend underground while the door above us close and the lights on the side wall switches on.

  Tiredness and thirst beyond recognition got hold of my body. I could no longer control myself as hallucinating image overrun what I was truly seeing. My head becomes heavy as the light fades with blurry vision. Blackness takes over and I pass out.

  I was awoken. Only in mind as my consciousness struggle to cope with reality. Yet I was unable to locate where I was. I felt weightless as if floating. My skin senses the presence of an unknown. The air I was taking in felt fresh and warm.

  My mind was exposed to multiple flashes of foreign images I had never seen before. The old man responds but I could not yet hear him. A reflection of my old self stood before me in a brown fatherhood robe. He appears distort at first and then it all merge back to life.

  Then his old face change into Philip’s face. A transformation into a face I was accustomed with.

  Philip says, ‘Phil sorry we had to meet like this. We were supposed to meet face to face but you collapsed and fell into a coma due to heavy loss of blood. We’re trying to fix you. You don’t have to worry. You’re in good hands and I shall make sure that you wake up healed. You, our old self and I are one. We call ourselves the trinity.’

  Philip drives both hands underneath his collar. He sticks his fingers underneath his synthetic skin, stretch it outward and upward. The elastic skin breaks and rips. He peels it off his face. Rub the bits which were still stick to his face. He submerged his face in a basin of what appears to be water.

  He dried his face with a towel from nearby wall mounted stand. He removes the towel and stares at me. Incredible, his face was a reflection of me. He was neither too young nor too old. The background behind him changes. He was in the middle of an industrial estate.

  Buildings which I assume were of massive company releases gas into the day sky. Their tall chimneys turn the area into a smoky waste land. The background moved further from him and he was exposed to the waste land. Trees that appear dry and rotten with abnormal texture of colour fell apart.

  ‘Yes Phil, before we start you can see that you’re staring at yourself. I couldn’t tell you before as I didn’t want to freak you out. I am a clone. Your old self made me from a lab and allow a surrogate mother to volunteer to allow nature to take its course. He thought me everything I needed to know and he was like a father to me. I’m gonna pass the knowledge to you. We’re Important for the history of man-kind and together we’re going to break the corporation down. I’m going to educate you on a need to know basis of what you may call the future’s knowledge.’

  The image of my clone walking in the vast arid land extends. He carries on, ‘as you can see the earth is slowly dying due to the corporation accelerating need and greed for profit. They cleverly hide behind colourful motto known as Corporate Social Responsibility. This in fact is just a strategic matter to attract potential investors and customers in relation to how they react to their environment. In reality when it comes to money saving the environment are never taken into consideration.’

  Philip’s environment changes and this time he was near a river. The water did not run down colourless but in a slushy and creamy green. Biological life seizes to exist as their carcasses fill the river. Including those that drink the water, they lay still, near it and rotten. Flies, crows and scavengers fought for possession of the carcass.

  ‘Some products when they are made toxic waste are produced. Radio active’s energy is a perfect example of such a source of energy in this nature. It provides great electrical energy for an immense area. Its waste got to be on the move as it can’t be buried. It can damage an area where it’s dump for one to two centuries. Maintaining the waste is a cost to the corporation.’

  Behind Philip the scenery changes according to what he was talking about. Trucks from my time sprayed with the international sign that indicate the towed tank is loaded with radioactive waste followed each other. The sky quickly transforms from night to day time. The drivers of the radioactive tankers rest for twelve hours, waiting for the night and then move on. Security must have been an issue and it comes at a cost.

  The angle of the scenery changes into a bird’s eye view and heading away turning all of them smaller. The convoy was long. United States was displays as a whole with yellow dots separating the rural and urban area as the night sky shadows the country. Moving red dots were all over the country and the scenery quickly pin point on them.

  Amazingly they all turn out to be convoys of the same nature of volatile substance. Vast land of industrial pumps appears behind him. Farther I could see the sea with an oil rig at the horizon.

  Philip turns towards it and says, ‘Oil pumping is another trade mark of the corporation which had replenished their wealth beyond recognition. Sometimes pumping oil where not enough so the corporation would dump the oil purposefully. When you think that they shall be losing money in fact they are making it.’

  Now he stands outside of the New York stock exchange. The money making machine of our economy. Rushing images goes through the stairs of the building and inside the trade centre. Brokers agitate as they furiously monitors and bought shares at the market.

  Philip glances at me and says, ‘In here it’s where it all takes place. Stockholders who knew about it sell their shares first. A cleaning corporation affiliated with the oil pumping corporation bought insurance. Then the oil is deliberately thrown in the sea as they fail to react due to the lack of emergency reaction drill. The leasing oil rig is engulfed and perished under the explosion of oil on fire. The cleaning corporation gain millions in the cleaning contract while the oil pumping corporation and oil rig owner’s corporation benefited from the insurance.’

  The background changes to an exploding oil rig on fire to a plane flying over the oil spill and releasing chemical agent to break down the oil.

  ‘The chemical used to break down the oil is not safe to breath and harmful for the environment. After witnessing those corporate crimes I come to terms of how unethical the corporation are to the society. I had to do something. I wanted to push those green ideas ahead but they join forces and rebel against me. At first they try to put dirt on me while they skilfully plan for my suicide attempt. Most of their opponents commit suicide and the case closed. Well I decided that the only option to make this place a better place is to hide. For now they have won the war.’

  There was a pause.

  ‘One more thing, the weapon system of our time is a bit different from those used in your time and bullets are slowly being phase out. Nowadays most of them improvised a deadly technology at its infant stage in your time. We call it anti-matter. It may release more energy and allow one person to gain control of a gang.’

  My consciousness assimilates all the fields that I was being thought. Once the telepathic information came to an end it all went dull. It all went silent as if someone has unplugged it. Philip was no longer there but an unknown mercenary appears. He points a weapon at me and press the trigger. It all went blank and dark.

  17
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  I open my eyes and see myself submerge in transparent yellowish substance. Attach to my face was an underwater mask. The cylindrical container has a pair of oval structured light inside, suspends in the middle. Suddenly a small camera from the ceiling moves on my body and examine every inches.

  Then the substance flushes out of the container through drainage in between my foot. Trap I had no way out of it. Leaning to the cylindrical glass I could not see the cylindrical coffin as I was surrounded by a cylindrical black wall. Then there were movements. Driven upwards I wonder where the next stop shall end. Unable to stop the cylindrical container I try to remain calm.

  The cylindrical pitch black wall seems to moves downward as the container quickly ascends into a forty five degrees angle. I reach the surface and the lights of an unknown room penetrate inside. The container moves slowly and then stops. I was no longer in agony. My body has recovered drastically.

  The container open from atop and I free myself. The room was turn upside down. Everything was toss to the ground in an inappropriate manner. I grab a towel from the floor and dry myself. The only dress I had on me was a sport’s tight skin short.

  I heard a sound as if rocks were tearing and spreading apart. I stare at the wall but there was no movement. The sound becomes louder and it leads to the wall in front of me. At a closer look I saw dust falling off the wall. Suddenly uneven crack which separate the cement and the wall stretches from the ceiling to the floor. It mysteriously squeezes outward. Inside it becomes brighter as I head towards it.

  ‘Welcome Phil!’ A voice from inside said.

  I quietly made my moves to identify the stranger who was calling me. To my surprise I found nobody inside. The room was empty and enclose with four walls painted in white. On the floor there was a design of a pair of Japanese sai merging together to form an X.

  In the middle, where the two painted sword meet, lays an eye. The painting was in dark brown. I observe it carefully while I wonder where the voice came from.