The Sword of Gabriel: Ten Days on Earth

by Tom Holloway

  I have a fun time showing my guests the penthouse. With fifty thousand square feet of living space, it’s quite a tour, although 30 percent is the living quarters for the staff and their families, which was not on the tour. The staff has use of the fun stuff, too. They can use the theater for movies; there’s also a video-game room, an exercise room, a swimming pool, and much more.

  Anna is smiling the whole time, acting overly impressed, giving me a hard time, kidding me about which room I use for my mistresses. She laughs about how the New York City nightlife is famous for handsome, single, rich, young playboys. She wants to know if she has use of it, as she might want to entertain guests when she’s in New York. I laugh and give her the keys. She looks at me, surprised.

  The Jacobs’s are all impressed, and I tell John he can use it when he wants, if here in New York visiting. The kids love the movie theater and are delighted with the pool. There’s a lot of luxury in one place. I tell them, in the past, I have used it only every ten years, maybe five or six times over the many years. They do not know what to say. The kids ask me how old I am. I laugh; tell them I’m much older than I look. They ask if they can use the video-game room before we have dinner. I show them what to do, giving them half an hour, then dinner. Anna and Judy sit down on a comfy couch outside the video-game room, in an adjoining side living room, one of many, allowing them to talk yet still be able to watch the kids. They are each served a glass of wine.

  “Anna, I’m taking John to my library study, three doors down. Please excuse us, will not take long. We are also having a drink. We need to talk for a bit.”

  She smiles, waves me off, then laughs and exclaims, “Henry, try not to scare the hell out of him. This is a fun night, remember.”

  I shake my head, amused. “John, don’t pay any attention to her.”

  We walk into the library, my favorite room. It is large, walls covered with books, dark mahogany paneling, leather chairs, side tables with brass lamps, a big dark-cherry desk on one side, a large mahogany conference table on the other end. Drinks are waiting for us—a beer for John, bourbon on the rocks for me. We sit on two leather chairs facing each other. We tip our glasses at each other, make eye contact, smile, and take a drink.

  “John, I’m leaving Earth tomorrow, going back home, meeting with the Consortium. I want to finalize Earth’s induction into the membership. I think I will be successful. I have some personal issues to resolve also. I have a proposal for you. It has been cleared by your president, a favor he is paying off to me, approved by all who need to be involved. It is top secret and confidential.”

  I pause. “I want you to go to work for me, become an employee of the Consortium. You will work for me yet keep your current job with the government, still in Section 58. You keep your pension, seniority, health insurance, everything. You will also have additional duties and responsibilities working for me; this is a new job—not that hard, about the same things you are doing anyway. Are you interested?”

  John has a look of disbelief on his face, totally surprised. He takes another drink. “Do I have to give you an answer right away? And what exactly would I do?”

  “Good questions. Yes, I am leaving, thus no time to wait, need to know tonight. Of course you can talk to Judy. This job is one you will like. You will be representing me while I am gone, responsible for documenting activities here and reporting to me with your evaluations. There is an office on the floor below us in this building. It will be yours. You will also be in charge of the building. You will have massive communications capability here, your own energy supply, access to drones, and total security. The building is a fort; no one else lives here except for my staff plus their families. The staff will take care your needs, cook for you, clean, whatever you need. It is protected much more than it seems, as I built it, along with my drones, and has the same technology of the Cyclone. It has a security shield when needed, activated automatically, as when it is threatened, it deploys. The building also has weapons; defensive and assault. You have access to all data, every system in the world, classified or not. You will also be telepathic, able to read minds to some extent and communicate mentally with me. You will be programmed and enhanced mentally tonight. The building will communicate with you mentally as will the drones.”

  John looks frightened: his face is pale, blood pressure higher, and he is about ready to be sick.

  “John, stop worrying. It’s already done. You can hear me mentally right now. It does not hurt, and the enhancement package makes you smarter but changes nothing about you personally. You are the same person, yet may live a lot longer now. You were enhanced this minute; you did not feel it, and you will never be affected in a negative way.”

  Hearing John’s thoughts, I respond telepathically, “First of all, call me Henry, and yes, I did have a lot of nerve. I regret if I offended you. It is necessary to keep you alive, as you have a lot of enemies, some new. Please forgive me. You are going forward with this because it is your free will; you would never turn this down. Your family will be helped, too. The pay is five hundred thousand dollars a year guaranteed for one hundred years, going to your family if you are dead. You should live longer now. Your salary will be increased yearly depending on inflation and performance. I have arranged for my law firm to contact you with the details and paperwork.”

  I speak out loud again, as John is freaking out with the telepathy. “John, the drones will guide you on the government stuff and reporting to me. The most important task is to guard Anna. I will not be here, might not be back for ten years. Anna will be upset with me, angry, hurt, and not able to think rationally about me. She is in a dangerous place. Knowing me and then not being on the starship makes a possibility of someone kidnapping her a very real threat. They would interrogate her to find out about me and starship technology. And I also have my enemies seeking revenge, try to use her to get to me.”

  “I asked the president for three favors, which he agreed to. You were one, the approval for working for me, and then protecting Anna is another. He has made you the coordinator of her protection, giving you unlimited resources. You have the Secret Service, NSA, FBI, CIA, and any military you need. You also have this building and the drones. However, the drones capability is limited if too far from this power source; thus, she needs to live here. The last favor is to give you and myself immunity from any legal prosecution. You are above the laws of this world. All the other countries will go along with this, as they have no other choice. They have no choice as they have no jurisdiction over the Consortium. Yet you still are subject to Consortium laws.” I smile. “John, what say you?”

  John is intently looking at me, his face flushed, a facial expression as if he just saw God. He slowly speaks. “I can’t believe this is really happening. It is a shock. I never saw this coming. It is impossible to say no; I could never live with myself. Yes, I will take the job, and thank you! You are right on all of it. I would never turn this down; it is everything I have ever dreamed about. The money is also more than I ever dreamed about. You will not be disappointed. I will not let you down. I already love Anna, and protecting her is an honor and privilege.”

  I reply, “Excellent; you start tomorrow. Do you have questions?”

  John responds quickly. “I have two questions. Will I ever have a chance of visiting your starship? And what are my chances of survival with this job? Please, an honest answer.”

  Answering, “As of now, since you are on the team, excellent. There are lots of things that will be put in place to protect you, yet you could be killed, although it will be hard to kill you. You have already been given an internal medical repair package that will help you stay alive; it is in your body right now, working fine. The same thing your daughter was given, everyone in your family has it now. While it’s impossible to control all threats, it is up to you, and I have great confidence in you. You will have to make the right decisions. My law firm will help you sometimes. You have unlimited funds at your disposal; they will supply you. They
will also sign you up as an employee and you technically work for them, receive their benefit package, which is a good one. Most of the time you will not hear from me, yet you can try, using the beacon transmitter on the building. Most of the time I will be too far away to respond. Of course the president has promised to give you resources.”

  John asks, “Henry, this is a personal question, but I hope I can ask you this: what is your relationship with Anna?”

  I look at John. Then I look away. I can’t help it—moisture comes to my eyes. I’m feeling the sadness.

  “John, it’s hard for me to talk to you about this. She is the love of my life; found her after all these years. I am not sure I’m good for her, and she is the last person I would want to hurt. I live a dangerous life, and my enemies are ruthless. They would do awful things to her because of me. My employer has made it clear I am needed, and I will never make a good family man. Retirement is probably not an option. Starships are not great places for children. She is better off without me. She has a wonderful life here if I have not screwed it up for her. She needs to find a better man than me. I am not sure I will be back soon, maybe not for a very long time. She does not deserve having to wait.”

  John’s eyes now have tears as I have been talking. He says, “Henry, I know she loves you. It’s obvious. Not to be the one to give you advice, yet it is clear to me. You must try to build a life for her. There is no going back.”

  “John, just protect her; now you understand why it is critical to me. I will try to bring you more resources. This planet is vulnerable, too. That is another reason I have to go. I want to bring in a fleet, maybe make this my base of operations. It’s the only chance I have to make this work. I just don’t know what will happen. This is new terrain for me, and I’m not sure what the Consortium will do.”

  “You start work tomorrow. Be here in the morning. The drones will teach you what you need to know. The staff knows you are coming, as does my law firm. Judy and the kids are welcome to move in here. Try to talk Anna into moving here; it’s much safer. The drones can help you here, too, although they are worthless away from the building for any length of time. Otherwise, if Anna will not move, it will be tougher protecting her and you will be in California a lot. You can work whatever hours you want; please travel as needed. File expense reports, any cost is reimbursed. I just need results. Protect Anna.”

  As they are sitting there watching the kids playing video games, Judy looks at Anna, smiles, then tenderly says, “You are so young. You are beautiful. I have followed your career, and you have incredible talent. You and Henry make a cute couple; you are good for each other.”

  Anna looks away, feeling sad, and her mind is somewhere else.

  “Are you in love with Henry?” Judy asks.

  Anna jerks her head up, changing focus, intently looking at Judy, making eye contact. She relaxes, smiles back. “Yes, I am. I’m worried; maybe frantic is a better word. He is leaving tomorrow, and I am not sure he is coming back, at least not soon. I miss him already. I have told him I will come with him. He is afraid I will ruin my life if I come with him. He says living on a starship is not pleasant. I am afraid, too. He might be right. I am like a moth drawn to a flame. All of this is overwhelming, as were the last ten days, way beyond description. Yet I feel like I have known him forever. I think we are destined to be together no matter what. I can rise to his needs, be a true partner, if he would just give me a chance.”

  Judy, alarmed, shakes her head, in a concerned voice, exclaims, “I am so sorry! I agree with you, both of you should be together. It fits. He needs you much more than he knows. The Lord works in mysterious ways.”

  “Judy, I know more about starships and aliens than I ever thought possible. I am in over my head, sort of like Lois Lane in the Superman movies. I have nothing to rely on in my past experiences to predict our future together, yet I absolutely know this is the right path. We have one chance. He must fight for us, or we will be ruined. If he doesn’t, I will be heartbroken and furious. It is his one chance for happiness. He needs me. I don’t care about his other responsibilities or the Consortium. I know I sound selfish and immature.”

  Judy sadly says, “Anna, I wish I could help. You sound like you know Henry well, something everyone on Earth would want to know. Either way, you could help Earth go forward in a transition to joining the Consortium. It is frightening to think what might happen to us, the aliens supervising us. They are so advanced; we must seem primitive. John is worried, as is everyone who knows about it. I know Henry has worries, too; he has those sorrowful eyes, like he carries huge fears and concerns. I think he’s sad for you, too. I think he loves you. It does seem impossible for you to have a life together. I don’t know what to say. I always pray when faced with an unbearable crisis. I will help you in any way I can; just call me, Anna. I will pray for you both.”

  They both look up as they hear me call them to dinner.

  The dinner is terrific, with several kinds of dishes. They all are delicious. The wine is superb. Brett, the chef, is out in the dining room asking about it. I am really pleased with her. The dining room is formal and huge, with classical music playing in the background, and it is a nice evening for all. The kids ask Anna about being a movie star, and she jokes with them, making fun of herself. Everyone laughs. Then it ends, and we are back on the Saber.

  We drop off John, Judy, and crew and head home to LA, back home by eleven-thirty. I park the Saber over the pool. Anna and I are in bed at twelve o’clock, watching one of Anna’s films, her last one, the possible Academy Award winner. We eat popcorn and snuggle up together, nothing more. The film is great, and I love it. I cry at the end, causing Anna to cry, too. We laugh at each other and talk about John and Judy and their kids, then fall asleep in each other’s arms.

  At six o’clock in the morning, I am up and dressed; I am ready to go, with things to do before I leave Earth. Overnight, I know, as I heard the diesel engines, metal clanging, and all the noise outside, the military has arrived. The president is keeping his promise to me, providing protection for Anna. He has sent an entire battalion, now set up around Anna’s estate, with streets blocked off, angry neighbors evacuated from their homes, tanks at all intersections, and troops and machine guns everywhere. The FBI, CIA, and NSA, Secret Service, plus the local police, are all here. Helicopters are coming and going, serious-looking military Apaches armed with missiles. They know the Saber is here and are keeping their distance. An aircraft carrier will be stationed off the coast when we are gone.

  It is dark. Anna is still sleeping, exhausted. I leave a note for her, telling her not to waste her life on me, not to be optimistic about what I will be able to do about Gabriel and the Consortium. With me she always will be a target. She will do better without me. I write that I will see her later today, on the way out, to say good-bye in person; I will see her and her mother and sister at brunch. I will find you. I slowly sign it, “With all my love, always, Henry.”

  The Saber growls as it is starting up. Then it is rising slowly, wind rushing everywhere, the burners heating up as it rises in altitude like a helicopter, hovering, gaining speed, then leveling at four thousand feet, slowly rotating, holding at this altitude. I look down at Anna’s home, wondering if Anna is up, reading my awful note. I see the army tanks now in position around the perimeter, and then looking out over LA, with the ocean view, missing this life already, feeling a hole in my stomach, the ache for Anna, and loneliness. My feeling of bleakness and desolation is unbearable. I know I will never be the same and, worse, that Anna will feel the same despair.

  The Cyclone, although many miles away, also feels my emotions: my anguish, hopelessness, and desperation. The Cyclone thinks this problem was foreseeable and truly sad. The Saber has the destination interception point calculated from the current location. The Cyclone is now orbiting ninety miles up, fifteen thousand miles away, moving at thirty thousand miles an hour. It is waiting for me and preparing for the long trip home. My arrival back on b
oard is due in about one hour.

  The Saber rises quickly, on the move, the burners hot. I signal, and then there’s the roar and thunder as it blasts off, heading for New York City. There is no time to waste.

  Chapter 35

  Taking Care of Business—Law Firm Meeting—Farewell to Anna in LA at Café

  I am heading for New York City. The time zone there helps, as I will be there close to 5:00 a.m., still dark.

  I know I need to take care of Luca and his son Anthony, two dangerous people, guilty of horrific crimes. I will kill them both for their crimes against the United States, for Sam Jordan’s death, and because of the danger they pose to Anna’s life. If all goes well, she will never know how Sam Jordan died; Luca tortured him before he killed him. Luca wanted to know who Sam had talked to and how much he talked about Luca. Anthony finally killed Sam, after terrific suffering, death ending his misery. It was gruesome.

  I think grimly, And it will be just as bad for Luca. If Anthony is found, he will also get what he has earned. Both of them will find their ends in a gruesome justice, well deserved.

  The Saber is hovering six thousand feet over Luca’s estate in New Jersey, not far from New York City. He has elaborate security: cameras, dogs, guards, electric fences, motion detectors, and infrared detectors. Yet nothing will defeat several cell-size killer drones, three deadly slips, as they enter his bedroom. Luca sleeps alone tonight, his mistress gone and his wife long ago dismissed from his bedroom. The slips enter his brain through his nose, taking over his motor functions yet leaving his frontal lobes alone so he will know what’s going on.

  Luca wakes, tries to talk but can’t, nor can he move. The slips move about in his brain, copying memories as needed, the probes causing a great deal of pain. Then he slowly rises from bed, prompted by the drone that has assumed his motor functions. He has no control and tries to fight it, desperation in his eyes. The terror is overwhelming, and he vomits down his chest, not able to bend over, his head looking directly ahead, the vomit running down his chin, and then he pisses in his pants. His eyes are wild as he turns on a light, his hand not his, then with no control over his legs, he slowly walks over to the dresser and opens a drawer. He fights it, the terror in his eyes, yet he pulls out his Glock, his semiautomatic handgun, a large-caliber pistol, kept loaded, looking more like a cannon. He can’t gain control of his functions as he is forced to slowly walk out of the room, holding the gun tightly, with jerking movements, trying to fight it, going down the stairs and out the back door. He stops at the pool, looking down, chambers a round, then slowly putting the end of the gun barrel into his mouth, his eyes wide, tears streaming down his face, trying to scream, yet no sound leaves his lips. He waits, looking down the barrel. Then, after a few more agonizing seconds, a loud explosion instantaneously after his finger pulls the trigger. The drones have already vanished, and his brain splatters over the concrete as he falls into the pool. The security cameras pick up the whole thing, making it easy for the coroner to sign the death certificate, cause of death: suicide.