Glass Shore

by Stefan Jackson

  The sergeant nods and does as he’s told.

  “Mercer. Do you see a …” the sergeant looks to Geek for assistance.

  “It’s big and silver with twin, fat, horizontal red and yellow stripes,” Geek says.

  “Big, silver vehicle with red and yellow stripes?”

  “Negative.”

  “So, what’s the deal?” Griffin asks.

  “Have a quail egg.” Geek says to Nikki.

  “What? Hell no. I’ll take a cigarette.”

  “As the fat man will testify, they’re damn tasty. A little taste of heaven before Griffin sends us God knows where,” Geek says. “Did you know quail eggs were successfully hatched in space on the Mir, back in nineteen ninety-two?”

  “What is it with you and the damn quail eggs?” she snaps back.

  “If you have it you can’t share it and if you share it you can’t have it.” Geek says with a laugh.

  “What?” Griffin asks.

  “It’s a secret.” Nikki says with a laughing sigh. She reaches out and grabs a quail egg. Drenches it with soy sauce and pepper. She looks around the room, closes her eyes and pops it in her mouth. She chews, swallows … opens her eyes and says, “Wow.” Then she goes quiet, entering the gates of bliss.

  “See, settle down girl. I wouldn’t steer you wrong,” a smiling Geek says to Nikki.

  Soft tones from the new Cambodian pop singer, Jeeya Sukapatana, ease through the anxious soldiers in the restaurant. I can feel all eyes on me. The man directly across the table seems to be monitoring my breathing and watching my eyes for any signs that I might just reach out and kill someone. I think about the music. Her notes float and swell, connecting like smoke rings then wrinkling and slowly dissipating from the air.

  Jeeya’s spellbindingly beautiful voice could captivate and soothe all but the coldest and hardest of hearts. Naturally, it has no effect on Griffin.

  “Where’s your goddam ship?” he snarls, shaking the remote at Geek.

  “It’s still in stealth mode. Hit the blue button again.” Geek explains to Griffin with a good-natured smile.

  “Of course, you’ve got an invisible ship.” Griffin replies as he hits the blue button.

  Hot blue flashes wash over the restaurant. Everyone that didn’t have a quail egg falls to the floor like fat water balloons clumsily dropped by a gleeful toddler.

  Griffin looks around, disoriented, then fast mad. He reaches into his coat.

  I jump up, trample over our dining table – I see Geek and Nikki save the beers – I hit the fat man with a head and shoulder tackle. The crown of my head busts his nose and his blood flows down his face like the waters of a ruptured dam. Flat on his back on the banana leaf-padded floor, dazed and in pain with my right hand a vice grip around his meaty throat, tears well in Griffin’s eyes as he coughs and spits and slaps at my arm using a breakaway technique that is taught in self-defense classes. I’m a breath away from punching his lights out but Nikki speaks up.

  “Easy, Apollo. Don’t hurt him yet. I want to talk to this asshole.” She comes around, stands at my side and sneers down at the broken Griffin.

  “Guess who’s not going to hobnob with the President?” she mocks. She sips her beer. Hands one to me.

  I look out behind me and see the agents outside are in the same condition as the agents inside. Geek and his science. I sip my beer.

  I pat Griffin down, pull his weapon from the inside pocket of his jacket and put it into my pants pocket.

  “He’ll make a good hostage as we make our exit.” I say as I yank Griffin to his feet.

  “No need. Everyone within a three hundred meter perimeter suffered the same fate as the agents around you if they didn’t have a quail egg.”

  “Alright, this is driving me nuts – what’s in quail eggs?” Nikki asks.

  “A pesticide that was used in the last century has mutated the bonding enzymes in the eggs of water fowl, specifically marked in quail eggs. The thick white strands that anchor the yoke to the eggshell are rich with diflubenzuron, or Debbie. Debbie raises the colletenzinite levels in the frontal lobe. Blue light at the right frequency and strobe rate can induce a minor catatonic fugue, except if the brain is tainted with Debbie. That giddy feeling that you had after eating the egg is a by-product of Debbie. A sign that you won’t be affected by the blue strobe.”

  “Science is pure evil,” Nikki says. She reaches out with her bottle.

  Geek smiles. Clinks his bottle with Nikki’s, then mine. We take long drinks from our bottles.

  I shove Griffin forward. “Looks like being a fat, greedy slob paid off for you this time.”

  “Kiss off,” he replies without bite. He wipes away blood from his face. I shove him forward.

  “Asshole – wait!” he shouts at me. Then he reaches out to a near table and snatches a napkin. He uses the napkin to soak up his blood.

  “So you must know the owner in order to have the strobe lights set up.” Nikki nudges Geek.

  “I am the owner. I set the lights up long ago for just such an occasion.”

  “You and I gotta spend more time together.” Nikki says.

  “I’ve got all the time in the world, princess,” Geek replies as he holds the door open for her.

  We exit the restaurant and see dozens of bodies lying motionless on the sidewalks and in the street.

  Mots zip overhead, never pausing to gawk at the spectacle of the sleeping street people.

  “This isn’t permanent is it?” I ask Geek.

  “No. They’ll be out for five to six hours. Wake up with some disorientation; some will throw up all over themselves. Some will complain of memory loss,” he shrugs his shoulders and walks into his vehicle.

  Nikki follows, then Satan and me.

  “Apollo!”

  I recognize that voice. I turn to see Liz. I stop as Geek and Nikki gather at my sides.

  Liz stops before us. She hugs Geek and says, “Tell me you’re responsible for this. I know you’re responsible for this.”

  “Yes I am,” Geek says. He hands her a bottle of beer.

  And here I thought he was just taking two beers for himself.

  Liz pushes Griffin away and hugs me. We kiss, light and quick but it’s heavy with feeling.

  I give the girls a quick hug.

  “C’mon,” Geek says as he enters his mot.

  The ladies rush in.

  I shove the fat man into the vehicle.

  The door zips shut behind me. I note a slight lift. We’re on the move. We ease through the antechamber and into the round control room of the craft.

  “Those people outside and the symptoms you just mentioned, I …”.

  “Yes, you’ve experienced it,” Geek finishes my sentence.

  I continue. “During the war. One day, every solider lay on the desert sand just like everyone outside. And it happened every day for the next year and half, until all troops were withdrawn and sent home.”

  The cabin is silent. Geek’s smile is luminous.

  “You … oh!” Griffin stammers. Then his eyes grow wide and shine with clarity. He says, “Just like this mot, you’ve created vehicles that travel undetected on the grid and they constantly emit the blue strobe. All over the world, in the jungles, across desert sands, in the mountains, on the seas. You put millions of troops to sleep.”

  “Yes, exactly, but not vehicles such as this. Hundreds of small orbs, about the size of a golf ball,” Geek states.

  “I can’t stop countries from having a military force. And they can’t stop me. The moment I have a clear view of all the players on the field, I put ’em down. As for the gangs and tribes, I’ve mapped their territories and monitor their activities.”

  Then it occurs to me. I’ve seen the vids. “Sans weapons, you let the gangs fight.”

  Geek nods. “A lot gets settled in less than thirty seconds.” He sighs then continues. “At first I couldn’t do anything about suicide bombers but thanks to outstanding global intelligence, I have an idea w
here the assholes nest. So I send orbs into their lairs and put them to sleep as well. In these cases, memory loss could be a beneficial consequence of the blue strobe.”

  “Countries were a heartbeat away from tossing nukes…” Griffin states, eyes narrow and breath hot.

  Geek lights a cigarette “Obviously no one pushed a button”, he says with a short puff of smoke. “Everyone blames the other yet not one army has gained an advantage. Then, in rapid action, the Movers and Shakers, all those Powers That Be, realized war is no longer a profitable business and switched gears. The world business machine is now focused on agriculture and science and their pursuits have been rewarded with fat profits. Right now, anywhere on the planet, you can get something to eat. You couldn’t say that just a few years ago. There are six aerospace firms that offer day trips orbiting the Earth, or to the moon. There are three mining companies working on the moon, Mars and close asteroids. These businesses are making money or they wouldn’t be doing it.”

  “What you’ve done is treasonous on every level, you sanctimonious sonofabitch! As a citizen, it was your duty to provide our government with this knowledge.”

  “The government is a business and business is good, so what’s your problem?” Geek says.

  Griffin rifles his fist through his hair, huffs and fumes. “It’s not about business…”

  “It’s about power. Yeah, I’ve heard the riff before.” Geek smiles. “Guess who’s got all the power now? And no ideology, faith or country was injured in the coup.”

  “You’re a psychopath,” Griffin says with a dead sigh, his eyes wide open and mouth ajar.

  “Screw you. I opened the door for reason. People started to scream about their tax dollars wasted on a sleeping military. So the money went to education and healthcare. And, surprise! Educated well-fed people come up with brilliant ideas. Ideas that make money. And there are billions of healthy, well-fed people available to build these ideas and buy the fruits of these ideas.

  “I’m a businessman. Everyday billions of people use products based on my patents. And that means a lot of money in my pocket. War eliminates my customer base. Ergo, eliminate war and increase my customer base.”

  “I remember those early Days of Peace. It was very tense,” I say and laugh.

  Geek laughs with me, but Nikki, Liz and Griffin miss the joke.

  Liz says, “I remember hearing a street preacher in my old neighborhood. He would say that war is the greatest of all sins. War is a sin. Sin no more …”

  “And so ended war,” Nikki ends the verse.

  Liz looks at Nikki with surprise. “Wow, you’ve heard that?”

  Nikki nods. “Sure. I think everyone has.” She finds a seat and plants herself.

  “Oh yeah – oww and wow.“ Griffin sneers.

  We ignore Griffin. I say, “That whole thing even had me thinking about God and my soul.”

  “Ha! What a laugh! You’re a machine, Apollo. You don’t have a soul.” Griffin looks at me with disgust.

  “He’s got more soul than you.” Nikki defends me even though she has witnessed some of the evil bullshit that I’m capable of.

  “What, you don’t know about Apollo?”

  “Yes I’ve watched Geek work on him. I know all about Geek and his Freak. And I’m sure the freak’s got a better chance at getting into heaven than you do.”

  Griffin turns to Geek with a dirty smile. “Geek, enlighten the princess on Apollo’s true design and mission.”

  Geek takes his time. Then, “Apollo and the others were not created to wage war on earth.”

  “You getting the big picture now?” Griffin teases Nikki by stretching his arms to an exaggerated expanse, tops it off with a fat grin.

  “So... what, space? Apollo is made to fight in space?” she offers.

  “Right. And what would he be fighting in space?” Griffin asks.

  I think she’s about to say, humans, at least that’s what it looks like to me, but she doesn’t, she holds silent for a moment before the word spills out in quiet syllables, “Aliens.”

  Griffin taps his nose.

  “Apollo was created for homeland defense and deep space warfare in the event of hostile extraterrestrial contact.” Geek presents the official dictum.

  “Jesus,” Nikki sighs.

  “Yeah, exactly. I don’t know what this information does to your particular God theory but as you dance with that, you can understand why it isn’t common knowledge. The riot that is in your mind right now would be experienced by billions and with bloody reprisal,” Griffin says.

  “You underestimate people. I’m good with it. My God is an artiste vivant. Life beyond Earth is a comforting thought because it confirms that my God is still creating. My God is alive and well.”

  “You’re weird,” states Griffin. “Look, religion aside, normal people aren’t going to sing la-la rhymes and skip through the tulips if the truth of extraterrestrial life is revealed. There’s an old story from the last century that clearly illustrates and supports this truth. Some cretin decided to play a joke during a live radio broadcast; he told everyone in great detail that Martians were invading the Earth. The fake broadcast caused riots in several cities. Some people were literally frightened to death by the bogus radio show.

  “So to close the loop for you, we, that is the United States government, will never admit that anything other than terrorists caused the Glass Shore. The truth, or any variation of it, will invite chaos. We will not admit to alien contact until we have to defend ourselves.”

  “I’ll keep pushing the truth about my father. I’ll tell people what you just told me.”

  “Please do. In fact, let me help you. Use this on your next post and see what kind of hits you get. US government has created superhuman soldiers designed for space combat.”

  I watch her roll it over in her mind. No matter how you spin it, the truth is stranger than fiction. She sighs heavily. She takes a cigarette from Geek’s pack and lights one.

  Griffin holds out his hand for a smoke.

  Nikki looks at him, her eyes are furious. “You’re unbelievable,” she says with a smooth breath.

  “Yeah, from cradle to the grave, little lady, from cradle to the grave.” He holds his hand steady, waiting for that cigarette.

  Nikki slams the pack into his meaty paw and then tosses the fire at him.

  “Thank you.” Griffin says, as though she had handed him the cigarettes and lighter with the greatest of care.

  “So aliens are real?” Liz asks.

  “You see,” Griffin says pointing to Liz. “She can’t process it. She’s normal folk.” He lights his smoke.

  “I can process it, you dick! Why do we have to be under attack? Why can’t the aliens come in peace?”

  “That would scare me more than all out aggression,” Griffin replies. “Peace is a most deceptive act.”

  I say. “We’re off point. Regarding the Event. The UFO was a construct from Mkeyinc. It’s a Malcolm Space production. We’ve checked out the timelines of his patents and it’s pretty evident that the whole thing is one big scam.”

  “What are you talking about?” Griffin asks.

  “He was awarded a patent for True Balanced Metal and the Harmonic Actuator. Both elements make a convincing UFO,” I state.

  Griffin laughs as he points at me and says, “Conspiracy theorists are such idiots. Apart from the grid, True Balanced Metal is the cornerstone for construction. That’s why buildings are so tall. The Harmonic Actuator also has engineering applications.”

  Geek asks, “So, Space figured out the transportation grid after The Event?”

  “He had the concept for the grid long before that, but couldn’t make it work,” replies Griffin between puffs.

  “Then it was exposure to the alien metal,” Geek says as he works it out.

  “Yes. That’s why we allowed you geniuses access to the debris and crash site.”

  “Alright, I hate being the only stupid one in the room, but if the government
doesn’t consider The Event as an attack, and it wasn’t manufactured, what made the Glass Shore? Was it the nuke or the UFO striking Earth?” Liz asks.

  Griffin sighs and smokes as he weighs her query. “A lot of both. The nuke shredded the UFO like confetti. We can’t explain why that happened. We estimate height of detonation was less than a thousand meters. The nuke alone couldn’t have done the damage so the official guess is that the power source for that UFO had to be amazing.”

  “It had to be an attack,” Nikki states. “The UFO eluded Jump One at first contact.”

  “That’s the first thing you and I agree on,” says Griffin. “Others have suggested that the UFO may have been in distress and Earth was a place of refuge. Making the evasive maneuver an uncontrollable action, not malicious intent.”

  “So it stands to reason that all the visitation stories and UFO reports are true. Unless you want to believe that this is the very first UFO that’s ever visited Earth,” I say.

  Griffin states, “I know what’s real. So does your creator.” He looks at Geek.

  Geek leans back in his chair, arms crossed and says, “Until I look reality in the face all I have is a deranged idea of what’s real.”

  Liz steps up to Griffin, “Enough of this … stuff. You guys can do this debate without me. I want my mother released now.”

  “Look at this – giving orders!” Griffin laughs for a breath then he becomes serious. “Sit still and I won’t have you put to sleep.” Griffin fiddles with his watch.

  I have the feeling Liz is about to punch him.

  Geek touches Liz’s hand – she spins to him. He gives her an easy nod and soft smile.

  Liz gets calm. At least she’s trying to be calm.

  “You’re not the only one with special toys, Geek. I just called in the big dogs. This mobile home of yours will be mine shortly.” Griffin swaggers about the deck.

  “Now Geek, you have deeply disturbed the true nature of things and you’re going to make it right. I’m going to inform the President that you’re responsible for the mind-attacks on the troops. Of course, I could be lenient and allow you to present the antidote to the President.” Griffin sidles up next to Geek. Up close and personal.