by Gary Starta
Science can help us, but not for that! Never for something like that! Enlightenment and evolution will come in its own time if it was meant to come at all. If not, then we had our day in the sun, just like the dinosaurs.
“The world can’t wait for enlightenment to make its way into the collective consciousness of people whose urges and decisions are controlled by their D.N.A. Nature failed us! Nurturing doesn’t always work; you know that. Science is the only way we can expect all people everywhere to obey the law and act with kindness, decency, responsibility, and respect. We can force the change now, Carter, and it’s the right thing to do.”
Carter’s chest heaved with the effort it took to keep his heart pumping, but he finally managed to move his mouth. “You can’t have our children! I’ll kill you myself before you can do a thing like that! I’m going to send you and your narcissistic creator straight to hell, Galatea.”
The old man watched Carter intently, then smiled and scratched his head. “Not quite what I had in mind, but it’ll do. Go get her, Tiger!”
Chapter Twenty Nine
The Collective, their meetings and the drug were everywhere, networking and crisscrossing the country. New York was hopelessly infected already. By now, the entire nation or globe could be compromised. Carter was, too.
He drove home feeling an anger that no longer seemed foreign or shocking. He admitted to himself that the beast inside him was within us all. It was incredibly freeing to let go and express it. Carter had a sudden urge to take out two figures on the sidewalk just ahead. He laughed out loud at the old joke he heard inside his head.
Ten points for the old lady and five more to back over her dog.
A thought occurred to him out of nowhere; perhaps there was no reason for our existence and domination over all other species. Our rise to the top of the food chain could have been nothing more than one giant hell of a mistake. The model was obviously defective from the get-go and should have been scrapped or weeded out, but wasn’t. Maybe the reason we rose to the top was because we had those defects of character.
Carter tried hard to convince himself of that.
Murder is sanctioned by the church and government when it suits them and vilified when it doesn’t. They know the impulse is natural and innate no matter what time period we live in. And if it is, then Eliza’s right; a natural instinct can’t be bad no matter what society says, and no one’s ever been able to stop it or remove it from our D.N.A.
If those idiots in Washington wage wars in the name of humanity, if the church says it’s all right to kill in the name of righteousness and decency, so can I.
Galatea dies tonight.
***
During his mad dash home, Carter grew philosophical, not realizing he was trying to justify to himself what he was about to do.
God and the Devil are one entity. They can’t be separated, and they didn’t live outside ourselves and preside over heaven and hell holding a book of rules. They’re just personifications of our own internal impulses fighting each other every moment of every day, and whichever one wins out at the time determines whether or not our actions are good or evil – according to society, that is. Good and evil are not even two clearly defined aspects of the mind like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde were. Those feelings are more like raw cake batter - all mixed up together.
He started thinking about the poem Omar Khayyam the Silver Man admired so much. Its message was that we shouldn’t spend our lives trying to be one more than the other or bother about finding a balance between the two; we should just accept that what we are, put that struggle behind us, and focus on the enjoyment of the simple pleasures in life, instead. If we don’t, it’s because we are the Creators of our own misery.
But if good and evil must exist in tandem then it stands to reason that no matter what tricks he uses, he cannot create a heaven on earth without also making it a hell. Now I know what I believe to be true, is true.
Words became thought, thought became feeling, and ultimately, feeling would become action. Carter wanted to feel his hands wrapped around Galatea’s pale throat. It was payback for taking Jill away from him. He didn’t want to think about it, and he didn’t want to try to switch gears, either. He wanted only one thing – to be her omega.
Carter parked his car in the underground garage and went upstairs to his apartment. He slid his key into the lock and quietly opened the door. His eyes moved to the kitchen chair where Jill usually threw her coat. There it was, draped over its back. She was finally home from work.
His skill in stealth and attack had been honed over many years, so this would be quick and easy, and yet, he wanted to prolong the rush of anticipation by playing a little game of Cat and Mouse, first. The hunt was half the fun, after all. But how to do it? That was the only question. Quietly, in her sleep? No. That would be efficient but very unsatisfying. He wanted this to be a vicious, bloody kill.
As soon as Carter stepped into the bedroom, the computer screen blipped on.
The Silver Man is monitoring me. Studying me. He thinks I’m going to kill my wife, but it’ll be his own creation that dies.
Carter watched her as she lay sleeping in Jill’s spot. Her vulnerability was incredibly enticing. He got rock hard just thinking about the power and intimacy of the act.
You may look like my wife, but you aren’t fooling anyone. I’m going to enjoy this. Oh, how I’m going to enjoy this.
He couldn’t wait another second. Reaching out with both hands, he pulled Seacrest, half-naked, to the floor. She woke up mad and confused.
“Carter! What the hell…?” Suddenly she was fighting him in earnest. His grip was hurting her.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Carter was impressed by her will to survive, but she was as light as a feather. He picked her up and threw her down on the hard wood floor like a ragdoll.
“Owwwww! Carter! Stop! Stop it right now!” Seacrest knew now what was happening to him, but she still had to defend herself. Aiming for his crotch, she kicked him. Apparently she made a direct hit, because Carter fell over in agony.
“Carter, listen to me! You were dosed with that drug! This is not real; none of it’s real. You love me. You can’t hurt me. For Christ’s sake, listen to me!”
“Oh, this is real, all right, and you’re not my wife! When I get off this floor, so help me, I’m going to bash your head in!”
He rolled to his left to pick up another chair. It would make a very nice club. Seacrest saw her chance and raced out of their bedroom to the front door with Carter on her heels. She stretched her arm out as far as she could and reached for the doorknob. A chair came crashing down on her own head; she dropped like a sack of potatoes, unconscious and bleeding. He dragged her body back to the bedroom but decided against using the bed for what he had in mind. Too messy. He pulled her into the bathroom, instead, and while he waited for her to come around, Carter finalized his plan.
At last, she opened her lids, just enough to see what he was doing. When she was sure he was genuinely distracted and not just toying with her, she shrieked a command to her Amazon Echo. Alexa played the same binaural beats of the isochronal waves Carter had used on her when she was drugged. It was her only hope. She couldn’t fight in this condition and from this vantage point.
Instantly electrified, he cocked his head and listened.
“Concentrate on the rhythm, feel the beats, and come back to me. You’re not a killer, and you’re nobody’s puppet. There is never a good reason for hurting people. You know that.”
Carter pounded his fist on the bathroom door. “Shut up! If destruction is what the old man wants, fine, but I’m starting with you, Galatea. He’s going to know how it feels to lose you. The bastard’s watching us right now. Did you know that? We’re going to give him a show he’ll never forget.”
“I am an agent of the law, Agent Carter. You will address me as Agent Seacrest.”
The isochronal tones made Carter feel woozy. “Alexa! Stop that music!”
Something hit him on the head. Dazed, he watched his own blood drip to the floor in morbid fascination. Then he picked up a brass soap dish and stated the obvious. “You hit me.”
“Carter! You’ve been drugged! Shake it off!!”
He just stood there, stupefied.
She tried again. “Listen to me, Carter; once you kill in cold blood, you’re no different from any other criminal who ever crawled out from under a rock!”
He smiled, slyly. “Nice try, but the only person I’m going to kill in cold blood is you, and I’ll be doing the world a favor at the same time.”
Seacrest whispered a prayer. “God, help me! Help me to get up off this floor.”
As if in response, an idea came to her. She grabbed his ankles and pulled his feet out from under him. Carter fell backwards head first out the bathroom door just far enough for her to slam it shut and lock it behind him.
“You think a door is going to stop me, you bitch?”
She knew he could kick the door open in one try, but the maneuver bought her time to look around to see what she had to work with. When the door hit the wall, Carter found Jill mashed into the furthest corner of the room, white as a sheet and wide-eyed.
“You’re making this much harder than it needs to be.”
“That’s what it means to be alive, Carter! I’m not going down without a fight. You want to hear me say it? All right, you sonofabitch, I’ll say it! If I have to kill you to save myself, I will. But you better think this over very carefully before you raise a hand to me, Carter, because whether I live or die, you’ll still be nothing but a murderer.”
Carter felt the blood pulsing in his ears. “I am not a murderer; I am retribution! A life for a life!”
Seacrest used the edge of the sink to pull herself to a standing position. She didn’t know how much longer she could hold out against him. “I’m your wife! I love you! If you need a reason for living, there it is. If you kill me, you kill yourself!”
He lunged for her. At the last possible second, she slipped to the side, and Carter wound up charging straight into the tiled wall, head first. While he was still down, she ripped the cotton shower curtain off its hooks, threw it over his head and tied the two ends into a knot behind his head. Then she knocked him backwards into the tub and turned on the shower. Ice cold water poured down on him in full force.
“Ahhhhhhhhh!” Clumsy and shaking, Carter tried to untie the cloth knot, but as it was cotton and thoroughly soaked, the more he struggled with it, the tighter it became.
Meanwhile, Seacrest half-hopped and half dragged herself to the bedroom door and freedom, swooping down to grab her robe as she went. That one small error in judgment spelled the end of the game. The floor had gotten wet during their fight, and as she made a grab for the robe, everything went sideways. She skated clear across the room before slamming into a mirror mounted on the back of the bedroom door.
It smashed into smithereens, turning the floor around Seacrest into a mine field. Carter recognized the sound of glass shattering and stopped bellowing. He knew she must be on the bedroom floor all cut up. He reached over to the shower knob and turned it off. With his bare hands, Carter tore apart the fabric over his head and pulled it down around his throat.
Lucky thing she didn’t turn on the hot water.
Deadly calm, he dripped his way over to her, careful to avoid stepping on glass. This was it; she had nowhere to go. He bent to pick up a nice, big shard and then closed in on Seacrest, intent on disfiguring that beautiful face he’d once loved so much.
“And now, you’re going to get what’s coming to you.”
“And so are you!” Playing her very last card, Seacrest kicked him in the head with both feet.
Carter reeled across the room like a drunk who stayed too long at the party. He stumbled over a chair and fell across the bed still clutching the horrid piece of glass in one bloody hand.
Seacrest wanted desperately to get up, but being surrounded by a hundred pieces of her own reflection meant cutting herself to ribbons if she moved. She was already too injured to attempt it, anyway.
He struggled to his feet unmindful of the glass slicing through his flesh and stood perfectly still for a long time, just staring at her. She stared back in absolute silence, waiting…
She looked up into his eyes and gasped. “Thank God!”
Carter’s pupils were shrinking back to their normal condition. He was lapsing into the catatonia she’d also experienced on the drug after the first twelve hours. In a whoosh, Seacrest let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Her whole body went limp with relief. She was safe now. It was going to be O.K.
Carter looked around the room with a puzzled look, as if he was trying to figure something out.
I’m wet. Why does it look like a freight train came through here?
In another moment, the cobwebs clouding his mind blew away, and he saw his wife slumped on the floor. She was crying. When he saw two red rivers racing each other down her face, Carter looked around and saw a shard of glass in his own hand. He dropped it to the floor in absolute horror and closed the distance between them in two giant steps despite the glass mine field. Gathering her up in his arms, he carried her to the bed.
“Oh God! I did that to you. I tried to kill my own wife.” And he wept.
Jill raised a hand to his bowed head. “You did nothing of the kind, Carter. You were drugged, and whether you like it or not, you’re human, just like everyone else. You could never have fought it. I know that.”
He got up to get a basin of warm water and a pile of towels and bandages. As he washed the wounds he’d caused, he thought he remembered something she’d said earlier. “Do you really think love is the only real reason we’re here?”
“I don’t know, Carter, but it’s as good a reason as any, and it works for me. Trust the universe. If you still believe we were put here for a reason, if you have faith, you don’t need to know the answer. The only thing I know for sure is that how you choose to live is far more important than why we live.”
“You’re pretty smart, you know that? In all my years of prayer and meditation, I’ve never achieved one ounce of enlightenment, and yet you understand me better than I understand myself. I learned nothing. I know nothing, nothing at all.”
“And that, my love, is the beginning of enlightenment. The more we learn, the more we realize we know nothing. There’s no finish line, Carter, and the journey’s not linear. If you need to know you lived for a purpose, then you have to choose that purpose.
“I want you to know something, Carter; you’ve done your best to make every life you touch, better. Especially mine. You change the world every damn day one person at a time, and you make it a better place because you choose to. It’s that simple.”
The mere sound of her voice was enough for him. He was comforted. He dropped off to sleep feeling the heavy burden he’d been carrying for so long melt away like snow on a warm, sunny day.
I admit I’m both heaven admit hell. We all are, but I don’t want to unleash that power or responsibility. I just want to be myself and live a simple life with Jill. That’s all.
***
Carter and Seacrest had been through the worst night of their lives. She really should have called an ambulance, but she was as nearly skilled as a medical doctor and had everything she needed to do the job herself. Besides, she wasn’t about to leave his side until this was all over.
Seacrest chained Carter to the bedposts until he was fully cognizant. She sat up with him for the rest of the night and well into the next morning, worrying, and wiping away his sweat and tears. When there was nothing left to do, she sang to him.
***
Seacrest woke up cursing. Someone was rapping on their front door. She leaped out of bed, forgetting she could barely stand. “Ow, ow, ow! Shit! If it’s a door-to-door salesman, he’s about to be clobbered.”
The voice in the hallway was tired and fearful. “Jesus, God! Open the door, damn it!
Am I too late?”
Seacrest slapped open the peephole and found a portly man in a dark grey overcoat staring back at her. “You better have a very good reason for being at this door.”
“I do, Agent Seacrest.”
“Who are you?”
He didn’t answer.
“I said, who the hell are you?”
”Montgomery - Clayton Artemus Montgomery. Your husband knows who I am. We met at the Cloisters. Please…let me in! It’s too dangerous for me to wait out here in the hall.”
Seacrest went to get a heavy cast iron skillet from the kitchen and then opened the door aiming it directly at his head. She had one thinly stretched nerve left this morning, and he was on it.
“Carter, are you awake? This man says his last name is Montgomery and that you met him at the museum. Do you know him, or should I go ahead and swing?”
Carter perked. “It’s the curator who took over temporarily after Dalton Wells was murdered – you know, the man Deeprose recognized from the photo in that obituary. He’s a former Military Sciences Project Manager with the Meese Corporation in Virginia.”
“This is the man Fischetti wanted her to find? So now he thinks this is the prime suspect in all these murders and set-ups?”
Montgomery answered cautiously, as if he wasn’t sure he could trust them. “That’s what Agent Carter’s been led to believe. Yes.”
Carter couldn’t believe his good fortune. “Well, come right in, Mr. Montgomery! Have a seat. We’ve been looking high and low for you. What we need is one good solid lead, and I think you’re just what the doctor ordered.”
Montgomery walked into the bedroom and looked around for a chair, but when he saw that it had been shattered into a million splinters, he decided to stand. “Those maniacs who are after you murdered my wife as well as my closest colleague. I’ll explain why, later. Look, my time is up; there’s nowhere to run and certainly nowhere to hide anymore. The only thing I can do is team up with you. I’m tired, Agent Carter, too tired to care about my own skin anymore. The only way I’ll ever get any justice or payback before I die is through you, so I’m going to help you catch them.”
