“Unit four-twenty, we copy. Will await further orders.”
“See chief on site for further orders. His ETA is seven.”
“Understood. Four-twenty out.”
I can see on the monitor that there is no traffic on Madison Avenue. At least nothing is moving before Space’s building.
“We’re late for our appointment.” Nikki states.
“I guess we’re going to have to catch the highlights. I can see they’ve stopped traffic.” Geek says.
We nod as a group and continue to watch the traffic window.
“Let’s go ladies,” Geeks says. He leads the way out of the main cabin.
“See you soon.” I say.
“Peace,” says Nikki.
Liz gives me a kiss on the forehead.
And now I’m alone.
31
“Base, what’s the chief’s ETA?”
I ran my finger over the bar and shut down the cop talk.
I pull up the Wiki homepage and enter Glass Shore terrorists. The page pops up, prominently displaying the images of the four alleged architects of the tragedy now called The Event.
I’m pretty sure these guys were framed.
Adam Rose – Deceased. (In commission of The Event)
West Syde – Safe House A – New Mexico and Arizona border. Alleged.
Harvey Houseman – Safe House B – Baja, California. Confirmed. Deceased.
Kamru Q’lam – Safe House C – Maine. Alleged. Escape unconfirmed.
Secured in separate federal safe houses. Authorities have admitted that eight assaults have been attempted on those dwellings, resulting in the deaths of two federal agents and twenty-six assailants. The incarceration of these subjects is an expensive order due to unique electronic surveillance applications and ever present L10 human security. The possibility that Kamru Q’lam has escaped is low.
I didn’t realize that they, well, two of them, are still alive. And who helped Kamru escape – if indeed he has?
I scroll down to trial entries and click the link. A picture of the courthouse of Runyon County appears at the left of the web page. It’s an impressive structure, fortified by high concrete walls and gates of black metal. I select a random date. I have the option of transcript or audio file. Why no video? Probably because cameras were barred from the trial. I click audio file 1A. The speaker’s voice – district attorney Donald Pathney – is well trained, smooth and engaging, and carries an air of clean certainty.
“Well, we have given you gentle people a mountain of factual data. Truth. Indisputable evidence. For the last five weeks, you have had speed courses in nuclear science, digital linguistics, the stock market and the Ziptrading scam, military psychology, radio technology, satellite technology, NATO Comlink, and extraordinary security procedures.
“We’ve discussed the personal motives for each defendant. Each reason, in and of itself, nothing more than revenge for an imagined injustice. Kamru Q’lam blames his father’s death on our government. The truth is Safir Q’lam had been a double agent, working for the United States as well as Egypt. His body has never been found. He is declared dead. So, with a deep-seated resentment toward America, Kamru manipulated his way into a government contract that concerned the security of America’s military defenses. It was during this time that Kamru inserted a command code so well hidden, that it remained undetected for years. The code disabled our satellites and early warning systems. Short wave, microwave, all radio waves were down and out. But it only affected our systems. And, by the grace of God, the Italian satellite was in position and was able to record the missile launch.
“West Syde was accidentally injured by Senator Woolcyk during a hunting trip. He was crippled from the waist down. Sentenced to a lifetime in a wheelchair in the prime of his youth. Does he have a right to be angry? Sure. But understand, Mr. Syde has received the best of care, and all his medical bills are covered. Yet, this didn’t sate his want for just punishment concerning the Senator. We have read a few of the letters he sent to the senator; you know the depth of Mr. Syde’s anger. And still the fine senator reached out to Mr. Syde. He introduced him to Malcolm Space. Mr. Space hired Mr. Syde and placed him on a then secret project that was to become the Apricot Wind.
“During an awards ceremony at an amateur aviation convention, Mr. Q’lam and Mr. Syde discovered they had a lot more in common than model planes. That being an absolute disgust for American government. But the two men were missing one essential element: leadership. They found that quality at the very same convention, in the person of Harvey Houseman.
“Colonel Houseman gave these revenge-driven men a way to strike back at our government. But what was Houseman’s reason for hating his country? This Rhodes scholar, this highly decorated war hero, Harvey Houseman, continued to fly in the dangerous missions. He never ordered another man into battle if he wasn’t standing the line himself. Harvey Houseman truly earned the rank of an American champion. Now he suffered from the horrible Suf-cancer, like so many NATO warriors. What would make this true American bomb his homeland?
“Guilt. Houseman remained regretful for the nuclear strike during the Reconstruction. He found contentment with his jail sentence; he openly expressed that his sentence of life imprisonment was just. Yet, while in jail, he secretly reached out to Syde, Q’lam and a new man – a man unknown to Syde and Q’lam.
“Houseman used a series of confederates with whom to communicate and set his plan in motion. As fate would have it, Syde was already in place at the Apricot Wind project site. Mr. Syde used his connections to secure a job for Kamru Q’lam. It was during a three-year period – the length of their contracts – that West Syde and Kamru Q’lam sabotaged the spacecraft known as the Apricot Wind. These men believed they were the plan. They thought that the plan was to take command of the Apricot Wind – via remote control and crash it into the Puget Sound installation. And as the evidence proves, Mr. Q’lam’s dirty work did disable the command center computers, and Mr. Syde crashed the spacecraft into the military installation.
“Yet for Houseman the Apricot Wind was just part of a bigger plan. His true instrument of destruction was to come from the best that the military had to offer.
“So Houseman and an unknown man made a pact. The unknown man changed his name. And using old and true friends of Houseman, the unknown man successfully infiltrated our space program. Yet he didn’t attain his position because he was a friend of a friend. No, this man was a superior pilot and a model citizen. So it was logical for this man to be chosen for the Shield program.
“I speak of course of, Burhan al-Jamil. Also known as Lieutenant Colonel Adam Rose. The pilot of Jump One. The man who fired the missile on Houseman’s command. It was a suicide mission, but this was in accordance with Colonel Rose’s agenda. An agenda that we’re still trying to understand.
“So I close with something we do understand from Houseman’s own journals. These laborious tomes betray the torment of his soul during his seven years in solitary. He wrote these prophetic words while incarcerated: ‘If I set a hundred bombs in your front yard and, with willing naïveté and faith in God, you believe that you and your family are safe, then you’re stupid and deserve all the hell that will most certainly blow up in your face’.
“We have established history, motive and method. We have displayed solid evidence regarding execution of the plot. The photographs from the Italian satellite clearly show the missile was launched from Jump One.
“There is nothing more I can say or do. Harvey Houseman, West Syde, Kamru Q’lam and Adam Rose are solely responsible for the missile bombing of Puget Sound, Washington. Thank you for listening.”
Silence save for soft whispers and the sound of typing.
“You’re up, Mr. Tyler.”
“Thank you, your honor.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I’ll begin where my esteemed colleague stopped. Let us examine Harvey Houseman’s statement. ‘If I set a hundred bombs in your front yard’, is the f
irst line. This is a true statement. Military bases, missile silos and mercenary arms dealers are literally in your front yard – right now.
“Second line: ‘And, with willing naïveté and faith in God, you believe that you and your family are safe’. Well, is that not how we all feel now? We trust that those who protect us are competent, vigilant, and safety-minded. It is the last line that sets it truly in perspective. ‘Then you’re stupid and truly deserve all the hell that will most certainly blow up in your face.’ That, my friends, is exactly what happened.
“We are complacent. The bombs have been in our yards for decades. They are so commonplace that we have forgotten how to fear them.
“We are so wrong.
“The former naval base at Puget Sound had been the most advanced military installation on the planet. The government will never expose all the projects in which the facility was engaged. They’re protecting national security, of course.
“Pardon me, ladies and gentlemen, but we are stupid. We give our hard-earned money to a government that builds bombs and God knows what else. Then, when a horrendous accident occurs, this very same government expects us to believe in Donald’s wonderful tale of terrorism. Four men, who exhibit enormous capacities for originality and decisive thought, are chosen to take the fall. Given, these men aren’t saints, but think about their lives, imagine how much time they must spend on their individual endeavors. When would they have time to make all this happen?
“I don’t care how precise, smart and determined these men are, the prosecution is giving them too much credit. That is one hell of a project for four men to design and execute. Never mind how they enlisted others in their scheme AND how they maintained silence and security during the entire operation. Not one article or communiqué from one man to the next has been presented. No letters, emails, or phone conversations. Due to their dubious past experiences both Houseman and Syde were under constant surveillance from authorities. Since they were so closely monitored, why don’t the authorities have a communication trail? I guess we’re to believe that telepathy was their means of interaction.
“Why didn’t they immediately trace the transmission spikes to West Syde’s residence after NADD command received a cryptic message the day before the Event? Of course, now they want us to believe that had been a test message from Mr. Syde and they can confirm the link.
“This is all too easy and simple. It’s great fiction but it can’t fly in real life. Think hard, ladies and gentlemen, your government is solely responsible for the tragedy in Washington State. Make them accountable. Make them prove to you that this won’t happen again.
“Remember, the bombs are still in the yard.”
Silence. The audio file is over. That’s odd. I check the feed. Yeah, that’s it. Well, for what it’s worth, I thought the defense was more eloquent. Better expressed than the sterile authority of the DA.
I scroll around until I spot the evidence files and I am about to click on but a blinking link catches my eye.
Conspiracy Theory Alert! Diary excerpts from General Pug Bradshaw. Discovered after his death on 12/25/2075.
I click the blinking link.
The General’s diary opens.
The world was commiserating the fifth anniversary of The Event. Gene and I tired of the spectacle that is the tribute ceremony. So we decided to visit the Colonel. Just hang out for a few days and escape the bullshit.
The first time I saw the Colonel, I remember thinking he was just an old fisherman standing on the breakwater with his fishing rod planted deep in the moist sand.
The sun was setting as Gene and I approached the old fisherman. I remember a warm wind at our backs.
I remember Gene and I saluted the old fisherman that was Colonel Harvey Houseman. The Colonel turned to look at us, Lord… I… The look in his eyes was ice hard loathing. He had nothing but disgust for Gene and I.
I’ll never forget the look of those eyes.
It felt like a blessing when his attention returned to the sea. And so Gene and I took that moment to ease away from the Colonel. It was hard for Gene and I, we men of power, to remain cool under Houseman’s silent dismissal. And there is no doubt that we deserve the Colonel’s venom. His aim is true. We lied. Our testimonies damned him. Read their testimonies before the Senate.
Nonetheless, we came to Baja to relax.
A silver Airstream trailer was Houseman’s permanent residence. It was parked a few hundred meters from the breakwater. A wooden picnic table was planted before the trailer. Gene set up the folded chairs while I continued to the trailer. We had arrived empty-handed, reasoning that the Colonel could not have consumed the cases of various liquors that we’d sent to him over the years.
There had been a few pairs of shoes on the concrete stoop outside the trailer door. So I took off my shoes before I entered the trailer.
Inside the trailer, to my surprise, I found dozens of liquor cartons stacked neat against the far wall, unopened.
The Colonel wanted nothing from us. Not even a free drink.
Well, I came down for a drink so I opened the case of whiskey.
I remembered Gene had sent a set of shot glasses. I found the package, also unopened.
Harvey’s jail cell was clean. I don’t recall a TV, but he did have a small radio.
There was only one picture on the walls. I remember it because it was almost – no it was – a shrine. It was a black and white photo of a beautiful young woman grooming a black horse. The picture was set in a plain gold frame. It was a picture of Sara, the Colonel’s dead wife. She was killed during his arrest.
I left the Colonel’s hell and found Gene sitting at the picnic table. We started drinking whiskey.
It was night when Gene said, “Our lies made it a better world, Pug.”
“Yes.” I agreed then and I remain convinced it is true to this day.
The Event changed everything. Of course, Pii helped. The Positive Image Inducement was a program developed to avoid major mental breakdowns amongst the people after the tragedy. (Click here: Doctor Ayni Rouessua discusses the Pii theory.) The government bombarded all media sources with subliminal messages. These blips were loaded with coping with loss, and recovery tenets. They were also primers, stimulating one to help others in need and to find solutions to the environmental concerns for the devastated region. The program was then installed into all reflective surfaces like household and industrial glass and mirrors. So that when people see themselves, they receive a flash, or twinkle, of good will. Platitudes like: You’re a good person. Help as you can, when you can, all you can. You are not alone. Reach out, someone is there for you. Believe in yourself and others. We will not let you down. You are an asset. You are loved. These sayings are constantly washing over people. And in short time, the hidden messages paid off. Healthy, pretty people everywhere you look. The government finally saw the big picture and dealt with the fact that sick people cost money. Unhappy people aren’t productive. Keep the people in the best of health and fix all of nature’s imperfections. This produces a happy productive worker. And a person who’s very easy to control.
Healthy, happy, sexy people building the future and no one notices the change in attitude. Hunger will be eliminated within the decade. People have homes or at least a roof over their heads. Sex is fabulous. And it seems like every woman on the planet is pregnant or damn well wants to be.
And so everyone has a purpose. City streets are clean, no litter, graffiti or bums. Stories of bad people and bad things are few and far away. The tribes, gangs and cults are all but done. All vice is restricted to the Underground; where you can easily acquire any illicit service your heart desires. It’s a wonderful world.
I tipped my glass to Colonel Houseman. Thanks for taking one for the home team.
The action on the other screen pulls me away from the General’s diary. A well-dressed officer walks an angry Space toward the police cruiser. Space yells at the officer – then shoves the officer into the edge of an opened
door of a police mot. The officer drops hard to the ground as Space races away.
I laugh out loud. This is so cool.
Two other cops tackle the fleeing Space, slamming the Man-that-is-the-Future to the sidewalk.
“Treat him like the Pope!” I shout at the monitor. I laugh to tears as I watch the officers secure Space in a full-body restraint suit.
The rugged grips of the suit are located at the shoulders and hips. Four officers grab a handle of the leather suit and lift the jacketed Space off the ground. He pitches and yaws against the police, so his transport detail look like men trying to navigate the deck of a boat caught in a maelstrom. Blood smears Space’s face and he appears to be cussing up a storm. I look at the page for the volume control and see none. I search the keypads and find nothing that indicates how to switch the sound on this screen. No big deal. Seeing it is good enough.
The officers deliver Space to the rear of an ambulance, and fasten him onto a waiting gurney. The gurney is slid into the vehicle and the doors shut. I wonder if they’re going to transport him to the hospital or to jail?
I return to Bradshaw’s diary. There is a disclaimer stating no verification of authenticity.
The clip of the Security Council would add weight to this excerpt, even though the webmaster will tag the clip with the same disclaimer. I have to show this site to Nikki. It will boost her spirits. It could be the place to launch her story.
I’ve heard the Pii rumor before. It makes sense in some ways but I don’t see how it could be implemented. I get subliminal messages, that’s easy but it often doesn’t achieve the desired response. A program set in all reflective surfaces, glass, mirrors, metals and gemstones, how do you make that work? For Bradshaw to drop two major conspiracies in one diary entry is amazing. Almost unreal, yet, the nagging thing is that I can wave a flag of truth that Houseman, Syde and Q’lam were not the cause of the Event.
Glass Shore Page 18
