The Quixotic Faction: (Above Top Secret Edition)

by T. D. Kohler

  Chavez and his partner, Green, take to a crouching run to surround the stranger. Officer Jared, standing next to the chief, draws his gun as he takes a few steps away from his supervisor. The stranger sets the briefcase on the hood of his car and adjusts the thumb locks.

  Chavez sees this and yells out, “Step away from the briefcase!”

  The stranger remains calm and takes a couple steps back, raising his hands in the air. He can see facial twitches on Chavez and Green and he affords himself a subtle smile.

  Officer Green begins to walk towards the stranger when his partner grabs him at the top of his Kevlar vest, sending him flying backwards into a nearby car. “What are you doing? Are you trying to get yourself killed?” Chavez screams.

  After landing against the car and breaking the driver’s side window, Green recovers and gets up into his partners face. “He’s unarmed and calm! Wait, you want to take all the glory and be the one to arrest him.”

  Chavez pushes his partner away from him. “What the hell are you talking about? I’m trying not to get us killed. That briefcase could be a bomb.”

  “Yeah, right.” Getting back up into his partner’s face, he inadvertently points his gun at him. “Now who’s being stupid. If it was a bomb, do you really think he would be just standing there?”

  Dodging the gun, Chavez grabs his partner’s vest and throws him to the ground. “Idiot! You don’t wave your gun at me!” Not realizing it, he was doing the same thing.

  On the other side Jared steps closer to the stranger as the chief’s attention is towards his officers trying to kill themselves. “Will you two stay focused and stop trying to kill each other!”

  The chief realizes what Jared was attempting to do. “What are you doing? Did I say approach him?”

  Dropping his gun and looking frustrated, Jared turns his back to the stranger and walks back towards the Chief, who is stunned, as his two officers fight among themselves instead of apprehending the suspect.

  Seeing Jared taking on a defeated posture, he yells, “Jesus Christ, man! What is wrong with you? Why are you dropping your weapon?”

  “Stop yelling at me,” Jared scoffs in frustration, “and will you make up your mind!”

  “I am surrounded by idiots,” the chief mumbles out loud as he rubs his temple with his free hand.

  Gaining some gumption, Jared stiffens. “Why are we idiots?” He waves his arm in the air and dramatizes. “You are the one that tells us to think for ourselves and then yells at us for not waiting for your instructions!”

  With complete disbelief, the chief drops his weapon. “What? Where is this coming from? Have you all gone mad?”

  Jared stares at the chief with complete resolve. Slowly, he raising his gun and points it at him.

  The chief readies his gun at the young officer. “Don’t do this. You do not want to do this.”

  Taking slow steps towards his chief, Jared tells him, “There you go. About to lose your life and you are still telling people what they want to do.”

  The chief recognizes a facial twitch he has seen many times with men are about to fire their weapon. Pulling the trigger of his gun just as the young officer pulls his. Both men fall limp to the ground as both weapons hit their mark, leaving blood and brain matter blown across the pavement.

  At the sound of the gunfire, Chavez and Green cover their heads and turn to where the shots came from. Chavez runs towards the bodies when he sees his partner getting back up and heading towards the stranger, who seems amused by the tragedy.

  “Green, stop! Get back!” Chavez yells out as he watches his partner turn towards him with his gun leading the way. Chavez fires first, sending the bullet through his friend’s shoulder. Running over to him to see if he is okay, he yells at the stranger, “Don’t move!” The stranger just tilts his head and looks at the approaching police officer.

  Just as he gets to the feet of his partner, Green turns and fires, Chavez is sent flying back onto the pavement, convulsing as arterial blood from his throat squirts across the sidewalk.

  The stranger walks to his briefcase, and as he is adjusting the dials, Officer Green turns his gun on him. “Step away from the briefcase!”

  With the briefcase readjusted the stranger turns and tilts his head to Green who is on the ground wincing from the shoulder gunshot. He watches the officer squint his eyes, trying to shake cobwebs from his mind, while keeping his gun trained on him. The stranger walks over to the officer, kneels down, and guides the weapon towards the officer’s chest. Green brings both fists to his temples. “Aarghh, my head. Why does my head hurt?”

  The stranger points and brings the officer’s attention to his partner, who is struggling to stop his neck from bleeding and whispers in Green’s ear, “Look what you did.”

  Chavez is grasping at his neck and his legs are kicking. His movements are slowing down. Green attempts to scramble up with his left arm dead and bleeding; he drops the gun and scrambles to get to his partner. “Chavez! Oh my God, what have I done?”

  Deserted Farm,

  Dry Creek, LA

  July 18, 1243 hours

  A dark-blue, Ford 350 Transit makes its way between the tattered, unkempt cornfields. Behind it is a large dust cloud, kicking up from its wheels on what is a cloudless day in Southwest Louisiana. Crows scatter across the cornfields, cawing in the wake of the intruder.

  Admiral Julian Kay, a middle-aged man with authoritative grey eyes, focused on the road. Doctor Lincoln Stevens is tall man, riding shotgun and wearing a metal headgear with minute LED’s flashing on the visor covering his eyes. Doctor Harvey Garret is younger and well-built man with short blonde hair, riding in the back and holding on for dear life.

  They slow down, as the fields come to an end, revealing a rundown farmhouse and a very large, equally rundown barn.

  The admiral turns to the tall gentleman on his right. “Lincoln, are you sure that equipment of yours is working?”

  “Yes, I can even see the energy trail, well it is not exactly an energy field, more like a radio frequency type trail.” His excitement is clear despite not being able to see his eyes.

  “I am going to trust that you know what that means.” They approach the farmhouse and come to a stop.

  The three sit in silence waiting for any signs of movement. Harvey breaks the silence, leaning into the front and putting a heavy hand on the driver’s shoulder. “Admiral, you do remember that we barely escaped with our equipment. Tell me we did not come to a place where we are going to get ourselves killed in a way where they make a movie of it later.”

  Ignoring him, the admiral glances at the radio, notes the time, and gets out to look around. The entire area is overgrown and eerily abandoned.

  “Relax, Harvey, this is just a large, desolate farm on the edge of nowhere, just outside of Dry Creek, Louisiana. What could possibly go wrong here?” the admiral scoffs.

  Harvey lumbers out of the back of the van, wiping the sweat from his forehead and giving the admiral a sideways glare. “Why are we even here?”

  The admiral turns to the gentleman wearing the equipment. “Lincoln, can you walk us through it again and why I drove twelve hundred miles to get us here.”

  Looking at a notepad, Lincoln meticulously flips through the pages until he finds his notes on the original sighting. “Little over a month ago I noticed an energy anomaly. What I mean is that I noted a stream of waves being pulled through the sky. With this visual gear I built, I am able to see and interpret molecular wave patterns, and I documented this energy being bent in a stream as if being pulled across the sky.”

  Harvey walks up to his friend’s side. “I thought you built it to be a portable laser that could cut anything.”

  Looking back up, he scans the skyline. “Yes, Harvey, there is that fun factor; however, I can only do that if I can interpret the molecular level of the object I am cutting.” His focus turns to the roof of the barn. “Over there the anomaly appears to come to be funneling into the barn.”


  The admiral steps away from the two towards the house. “Well let’s see if anyone is home, shall we.”

  The admiral and Harvey tentatively make their way to the farmhouse as Lincoln hurries towards the barn with his head up looking at the energy trail leading into the roof. Walking up to the door, before the admiral can knock, a turkey gobbles causing everyone to jump and look for the bird.

  Harvey remains off the porch looking around and continually wiping the sweat from his forehead with a towel. “How’s it this humid? There are no clouds in the sky. Just for the record,” pointing back in the direction of the road they just came in on, “those birds back there were scary. That turkey is scary. This whole goddamn place is something from the Texas Chainsaw Massacre. I thought we were going to Smallville, not to visit The Children of the Corn.”

  Just as the admiral turns back to knock, Lincoln is walking backwards yelling to them. “You guys have got to see this! There’s like a vortex of these radial-energy waves funneling into that barn!” Still looking up he does not notice the turkey until it turns and flies to the ground. Harvey takes a step towards his friend, not taking his eyes off of the turkey. The turkey starts to attack both of them with territorial aggression.

  The main door opens and a quiet, but forceful, voice makes even the admiral take a half a step back.

  “Get off my land!” the voice snarls.

  Unable to see who is doing the talking, the admiral recovers his composure. “Sir, we are not here to hurt you or anything of that nature. We are actually here to protect you.”

  “Are you the police?”

  An odd chill, creeps on the back of the neck of the admiral as he turns to see his companions being circled and attacked by the turkey. He shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose. “No, sir, we are not the police. My name is Julian Kay, and those two are Doctors Laurel and Hardy.”

  “What makes you think I need a doctor?” The force from the question makes him feel like he is being pushed.

  Still standing his ground, the admiral attempts to lean into the force that is keeping him away. “They are not that kind of doctors. They are engineering doctors.”

  “Government, get off my property!” An unseen force sends the admiral through the porch railing and into the dirt. Attracting the turkey’s attention, it charges the admiral. The doctors are staring at the admiral and the front door, stunned in disbelief.

  “That’s it!” With excitement, Stevens stands.

  “It is not radial energy or waves; it is a magnetic-radial wave.” Everyone looks at the tall, electronically-masked man, confused. “I can’t believe I analyzed it wrong.”

  The turkey stops his charge at the admiral, turns and gobbles at the tall doctor. Before he can charge, his legs give out and he falls to the ground. His body starts to contort and flatten out. Astounded, everyone watches the turkey flatten into a thin disc; its skin gives out as its inside explode out over the ground and its blood soaks the ground around it.

  “Get off my land,” the voice from behind the door again commands in a quiet but forceful tone.

  The three gentlemen mentally recover from the tragic scene and retreat to the van. Before opening the door, Lincoln faces the house and yells out to the person in the house.

  “We can help. There are forces in motion, we can help each other.”

  As he gets in the van, the admiral looks at him. “What the hell was that all about? and will you please remove that head gear.”

  Taking off the equipment and still looking at the house he says, “Just trying to reach through to him.”

  Never taking his eyes off the deceased turkey, Harvey asks, “Did you guys see what he did to the turkey?”

  In unison both the admiral and Lincoln tell him, “Yes, we saw it.”

  The admiral starts the van and proceeds to turn around, but then slams the van to a stop. He quickly gets out, scanning the house, he makes it to the front door, determined to meet this man. He knocks again. No response. Waiting for a count to ten, he knocks harder. Still, no response. Stepping away from the door he walks to a window, cupping his eyes, tries to look inside. Unable to see into the house he walks around to another window. Not being able to see inside the house he walks back to the van, shaking his head.

  Harvey asks confused, “Did you see what he did to the turkey? What were you thinking?”

  Without taking his eyes off the door to the farmhouse, the admiral tells him, “You already know I saw what he did to the bird; however, he could have done that to us, but didn’t.” Finishing the turn to exit the farm he looks to Lincoln. “What exactly, are these magnetic-radial waves?”

  1895

  Veniero’s Pasticceria & Caffe,

  Manhattan, NY

  March 12, 1652 hours

  Walking down a street in Lower Manhattan, a reporter comes across a small café. Sitting at one of the small tables outside is a man who appears to be incredibly shaken about something. He’s having trouble dipping his biscotti into the sweet cream. The reporter walks over to see if the man is okay. When the man looks up at him, his hairstyle immediately gives away his identity. “Mr. Nikolas Tesla? Are you doing alright?”

  His eyes are having trouble focusing. “I am afraid that you won’t find me a pleasant companion tonight. The fact is I was almost killed today. The spark jumped three feet through the air and struck me here on the right shoulder. If my assistant had not turned off the current instantly it might have been the end of me.”

  Astounded, the reporter says, “Sir, did you say you were struck by an electricity bolt? It is amazing that you are alive. I have followed your work, and I am always impressed at your demonstrations. I have seen you stand in the way of electricity and it painlessly passed through and around you.”

  A hint of clarity returns to his eyes, and he is able to hold his hands steady.

  “This was a much stronger and modified form of electricity, three-point-five-million volts stronger.”

  Letting out a low whistle, the reporter pulls out a chair.

  “May I? I know you stated that you may not be pleasant company, however, you do look like you need to talk to someone.”

  Nikolas gives him a slight nod of affirmation. Taking out a pad of paper, the reporter offers a smile. “What are your thoughts on Edward Lorenz?”

  Perking up, he tilts his head as he leans back into his chair.

  “Edward Lorenz is logical when he talks about his butterfly effect theory, and the same concept can be applied with time travel.”

  Raising his hands slightly, the reporter chuckles. “Jules Verne wrote about time travel and landing on the moon, but that is pure fiction.”

  “Is it? Allow me to break down a few concepts and you can be the judge.” The reporter absently picks up a biscotti and dips it into the sweet cream, his eyes never leaving Nikolas.

  “Now imagine that if we could manipulate Earth’s magnetic properties, we could accomplish so much, and at the same time, we could destroy everything.” Realizing that the reporter was having trouble following, Nikolas points for the reporter to hold on.

  “How about this, if I were to ask, what is gravity?” The reporter motions as if he is about to say something, however, Mr. Tesla stops him. “You would refer to Sir Isaac Newton. You would say that gravity is the force that keeps us standing on Earth. But what is the force? You could say the force is gravity, and gravity is the force, but what precisely is it? According to Newton, gravity is the force between two objects. So, if I were to push you, we would both go in opposite directions, and it would be gravity that caused the separation between you and my hands. However, we have come to only refer to gravity as that which keeps us here on Earth and why things fall. So, I ask again, what is gravity?”

  After a moment’s pause, the reporter scratches his chin and studies Nikolas Tesla’s eyes.

  “I have attended universities, and I am no way near your level of intelligence. But I do understand the complexity of your question.”


  Leaning in to eat some more biscotti, Nikolas nudges the plate towards his guest then sits back into his chair and crosses his legs. After a moment’s pause, he continues on.

  “Now, we know that the earth has a magnetic field. We have a North Pole and a South Pole, much like a standard magnet. Perhaps gravity is an electric attraction. The energy from my coils fire off electric discharges, and they always strike to the ground. We know that as human beings we can generate static electricity.”

  The reporter chuckles. “My niece loves doing that to her hair and touching people on a cold winter night.”

  Smiling, Nikolas looks up as if to collect a thought.

  “With my transformers, I have used magnets to change the power levels of electricity. So, we know magnetism and electricity work together in nature.”

  “Whoa,” the reporter says raising a hand. “How do we know they work together in nature, when you just said that you used magnets to change electricity?”

  “We know they work together or else all lightning strikes would be the same.”

  “Interesting.”

  “When I was struck today by one of these electro-magnetic arcs, I was momentarily caught. I saw the magnetic fields around me bend—and I could not move. I saw the very fabric that holds the past, present, and future together.

  If we take the butterfly effect and incorporate it to the concept of time travel, then if we were to go back in time and change anything, we could drastically change the present. Same type of problem would exist if we were to travel to the future and then return to our present, which would be our future’s past, which leads us to the butterfly effect if the present travels into the past.”

  Eyes widening, the reporter sits to an upright position. “Did you say you saw the future as well as the past?”

  With complete resolution, Nikolas leans towards his guest. “My good man, I have seen the future and the future’s future. We, being the human race, are about to traverse into dangerous territory. But having seen this, it has put me in the butterfly effect conundrum that Mr. Lorenz theorizes.”