FRANKS, Bill

by JESUIT

  “Certainly. No problem – no problemo,” he said as he waved a hand to them. They hurried up the stairs and entered Sallie’s room together.

  Once in bed, appreciating each other’s bodies, exploring with urgent hands, the sex began; eager ravenous, loving. Graham had an occasional flash of Bethany’s smiling face but quickly overcame the guilt initially felt, while Sallie, unaccountably, entertained several vivid pictures of the Jesuit, calling to her, displaying himself in his full, naked perfection.

  “Rape me, you bastard!” she hissed. Graham, naturally thinking she meant him, pleased that his lovemaking was turning her on to such an extent, increased his efforts manfully.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  At that time, Ignatious, having arrived on the outskirts of Pangbourne and finding a suitable spot in which to rest the night, was just snuggling into his bed, covered only by a single, cotton sheet, the night being once more warm. In minutes, his mind and conscience totally clear, he was in a deep sleep.

  Bit by bit, second by second, the pictures of his dream serial returned, with flashes of earlier events appearing as a trailer for a forthcoming movie. He turned, now restless, in his sleep.

  As time wore on, Ignatious perfected his new powers, frequently testing them on the varied wildlife that abounded. He had also begun to notice that the attitude of the tribal women and the children had gradually altered towards him. They were now in some kind of awe. Children would stare at him and move out of his way as he moved around. Sometimes, they would fall to their knees when he spoke to them and would carry out his wishes immediately. Women, the more perceptible species, tended to stand for an inordinate length of time, looking into his eyes and his soul. It was puzzling and a little unnerving. This change in behaviour could be traced back to the time around when Ignatious had perfected his mind-skills. Even though it had been accepted that he was different from the other strangers on arrival, he now seemed to be regarded as something nearing the status of the Elder.

  To the religious group, life here had taken on a feeling of near paradise. They wanted for nothing and life meandered on in a truly pleasant and friendly manner. The duty to which they were bound had taken a decidedly backward step as none wanted to break the spell of this charming life. Religious instruction had been suspended, not to be reawakened. These decisions had come about naturally, no one actually discussing and formulating a considered plan.

  Then, due to the worst aspect of the age-old basic instinct of man, the pleasant life turned upon its head.

  In the midst of the usual daily workings of the community, food gathering, construction work, cooking, washing, playing and chatting, a small cry was heard, coming from the denseness of the outlying jungle. It was rather faint and caused groups to pause in their activities, unsure as to whether or not they had actually heard something. After the slight pause, life continued as before.

  From his position, at the top of a newly erected water tower, applying some finishing touches, Ignatious spotted his colleague, Father Ottomier, breaking from the jungle and into the village compound. As he moved forward, Ottomier cast a couple of furtive glances behind as though fearing something was to follow him, something unwanted. He then disappeared into the tribal dwellings and was lost from sight.

  Dismissing the incident from his mind, Ignatious carried on. The project had been thought out by Karakta and Ignatious and discussed with the Elder, who had approved of the plan without hesitation.

  The idea was to provide a constant water supply to the village, taken from the clear-water river nearby. A ditch, some two-feet wide and four-feet deep had been dug out close to the flowing river and extended to the beginning of the village, which lay several feet below the river’s water-line. It then led into the tower, which would act as a storage tank.

  The water was to be lifted to this by means of a cleverly constructed Archimedes Screw turned by the pressure of the onrushing stream. The supply would then be directed towards the dwellings to be joined by several narrower and shallower grooves. These led into wide bamboo tubes sealed together at various points and directed into each home, culminating in a primitive kind of sink, or washbasin, raised to around three feet from the floor.

  A simple tap had been fashioned at the back of the sink that could be turned left or right to allow a flow of water and also to stem it. The water received would be pure, as the ditch and the grooves had been lined with the same substance as that used on the outer side of the ‘God’s’ pyramids. After supplying each dwelling, the liquid would run to a central point from which led a single pipe directed back to the river and into it, thus maintaining a continuing flow.

  Finishing his work, Ignatious signalled to the helpers below and one ran off to fetch the Elder. After descending the ladder, Ignatious met up with Karakta and they, with the remaining men, moved to the start of the project, next to the river. Here, the workers inserted a strong board into the riverbank, immediately adjacent to the excavated ditch. They then dug out the remaining earth, the board preventing the water from entering, and installed another clever device, activated on the pressure principle, so that, if the water in the tank reduced due to use in the village, a ‘shutter’ would rise to allow more from the river and close if the pressure built due to the tank being full. The tribes-people were to be admired for their cleverness and adaptability.

  As the Elder arrived, accompanied by many of the villagers, the work was completed. The Elder inspected the device and the channels before speaking a few words of congratulations to all concerned and explaining the advantages of having such a system. Their customary, and religious practice of taking a sip of water as soon as awake would now be made that much easier. He then ceremoniously raised the separating board and the water began to run into the system. Some villagers ran; some walked fast, including Ignatious and Karakta, all heading for the dwellings to watch the miracle take place.

  Entering the first available house, as most were filled with people, they joined a group of half a dozen people who were just in the act of turning on the tap. The clear water gushed out into the bowl and was scooped into excited hands to be gulped down, splashing chins and chests, falling to the ground. Ignatious took his turn and was delighted at the absolute purity of the liquid as it slaked his thirst.

  That night, the tribe organised a large party, attended by every single person. The food was plentiful and delicious. Alcohol, fermented from a variety of plants and berries was in never-ending supply, as were the strange drugs, several of hallucinatory properties.

  Although severely affected by the abuse, there was no arguing or fighting as there would surely have been in the so-called developed societies. In fact, the opposite was in evidence, lovemaking becoming the chief activity as the night wore on. Even Ignatious, though not inebriated in any way, forsook his self imposed celibacy and took a delightful nineteen year-old girl to his dwelling, after first seeking the usual permission from the white-bearded Elder, who was never seen with any company other than his own. On his way home with the girl, he spotted Ottomier escorting a young girl to his place and Christian openly engaged in a close embrace with one who would be around sixteen. Looking around for the Sister, he spotted Vasquez ambling towards her dwelling with one of either sex clutched in her arms. Ignatious began to wonder just how far the group had allowed themselves to fall. The feel and the aromatic scent of the girl holding his hand helped him to quickly vanquish the guilt.

  The following morning, rough hands, grabbing him where he lay, tossing the girl to one side, and dragging him, naked, from his home, awakened Ignatious. Carted along by arms and hair, he looked through bleary eyes to see that four tribesmen had gripped him, bearing grim expressions on painted faces.

  ‘Painted faces?? Why are they painted?’ Ignatious wondered. He had never seen them that way before. “Wait. Stop! What’s going on?” he called out to his captors, but received no response. He was dragged along to the village square where he was pulled forcefully to his feet.

&nbs
p; Before him stood four sturdy poles set firmly into the ground. Christian and Ottomier were lashed to two of these, also naked and looking equally bewildered and scared.

  As Ignatious was being bound to one of the posts, a shrieking rent the air and Sister Vasquez was dragged into view, naked and struggling frantically. It was all to no avail, as she was unceremoniously pulled to her feet and thrust against the remaining pole where she, too, was secured into place.

  The missionaries looked to the one nearest to them, seeking a reason for this worrying predicament. All, that is, apart from Ottomier, who looked straight ahead. The four were, understandibly, very frightened.

  The sun was rising above the horizon and Ignatious judged the time to be around six-thirty, the sounds of the awakening jungle echoing around the village as the animals searched for their early morning meals.

  All the tribe had gathered before them now, the men with white-painted faces, large circles being left around the eyes and mouth, presenting a chilling sight. They all held short spears, the ones immediately in front of the captives jabbing them menacingly towards various parts of their bodies, without quite touching. A weird hissing accompanied the gestures and this somehow increased the terror.

  Then the Elder arrived. The throngs of people parted to allow passage to the shivering prisoners. He stood before them, his height and immaculate garb, together with his startling white beard and golden skin, impressing his authority upon the bewildered missionaries.

  For minutes, he simply stood before them, not speaking, looking into their eyes, into their souls. None of the missionaries spoke although they were desperate to know why they were being treated in this way. Then, moving close, he confronted Christian who was on the first post in line.

  He studied deeply for several seconds before moving onto the next in line, which was Vasquez. Studying her in the same manner, he ignored her questions, thrown at him in a high-pitched, near-hysterical voice.

  Ignatious was next and the imposing figure looked into him as with the others. This time, however, he spoke. “You, my friend, are of a different species than your comrades,” he said in his mixed dialect. “You have powers they cannot understand and you are a good man.” His tone was flat and without emotion. “A terrible crime has been committed against our society and punishment will be dealt in the appropriate manner. As part of the group, you, too, must suffer the same fate no matter the good work you have so far performed.”

  He passed on to Ottomier, imprisoned next to Ignatious. The Elder stood, looking into the priest’s eyes for many moments. Reaching out, he placed a hand flat against the trembling Ottomier’s forehead, again for many moments, not a word escaping. Stepping back a pace, he then spoke: “You are the guilty one.”

  “But…but…no…no…I haven’t done anything!” he whined, unconvincingly.

  Ignoring the comments, the Elder, Kaba, spoke to all, looking directly at Ignatious. “Your companion has sinned against this tribe in the worst manner possible. By this, he has put you all in peril. You will die as a result of his actions and, by the time you do, you will be happy to go to the next level. Tribal customs, centuries old, are still practiced here and I cannot interfere. The two concessions I will make, are that Gawain,” he used the current name, “will be last to die with less punishment until that time, and Vasquez, the female will die instantly and without pain.”

  Ignatious turned angrily within his bonds, to Ottomier. “What have you done, Gerard?” he asked. “What is it that has put us in this predicament?”

  “Nothing. He’s got it wrong!”

  Casting his mind back to the previous day, Ignatious recalled seeing Ottomier behaving suspiciously as he emerged from the jungle. “I saw you, Gerard,” he said softly. “Coming from the jungle. You had done something hadn’t you?”

  Ottomier’s silence spoke volumes. “Come on, Gerard. You are a man of the cloth. Confess to all here of your sin. Save us!”

  Kaba intervened. “He cannot save you Gawain. The punishment has to be for all.” Ignatious looked at him in horror. The man was educated – two hundred years old for the good Christ’s sake! He was just, fair and wise. He had the ultimate power here.

  In his sleep, body covered in sweat, Ignatious tossed and turned, gibbering nonsensical stuff to the confines of his motor home bedroom. The dream continued…

  “What has he done, Kaba?” he asked. “And why must we all suffer?”

  The Elder, again looking directly at Ignatious, through clear, young-looking eyes, explained: “Early today, one of our tribe took a journey into the jungle seeking food. When in there, he came across the body of a female of the village, Ka-Lauma. Ka-Lauma was fourteen years of age and had no experience of a sexual nature, never having desired it. She was missed during yesterday but thought to have gone with friends and, at night, during the celebrations, was thought to be here. When she did not return home after the celebration, she was thought to be staying at a friend’s dwelling. You see, we do not have problems with missing persons in our society, unlike your decadent one, so there was no fear for her safety.

  She was found, as I have said, and it was discovered that she had been forced into a sexual encounter and then put to death. By the time we got to her, it was too late to save her and she will be sent to the next plane later today.

  It is clear that your brother, Father Ottomier, took Ka-Lauma away and carried out an attack on her, ending in unlawful killing. The punishment for such a crime is torture and death.”

  The missionaries paled under their deeply burned tans, horror chilling their minds and bodies. The warming sun went unfelt on the captive’s skins. Death had become accepted to some degree but torture? Torture? This could not be! Things like this do not happen any more. These thoughts flashed through the partly numbed minds of the fated four, ignoring the fact of the tortures carried out every day in some part of the world, where war and political intrigue was prevalent.

  “But, Kaba!” cried Ignatious. “Stop! Please!”

  The elegant Elder turned to Ignatious, studied him for a moment and went to stand in front of him.

  “What is it, Gawain? Please, do not plead for your lives. The decision is made; tradition has to be fulfilled.”

  Ignatious was sweating more heavily now, desperation showing in his eyes. He spoke softly, however, covering his fear. “Kaba,” he began. “You are clearly different from the others. I can see that you are of an utterly different race – different to us all, in fact. You are of a higher intelligence; an intelligence that is above all of this. Why do you allow it?

  Kaba’s expression did not change, he merely inhaled deeply.

  “Gawain, my friend. Your perception is correct. I and my comrades are of a different race. You will find it astonishing but we are from a different satellite than yours. We belong to the same galaxy but many millions of miles from here. I tell you this because of your circumstances. You will not survive but you are deserving of some explanation.”

  Ignatious looked at this mysterious man, a man so gentle and perfect of appearance, calmly telling him that he and his group are from another planet! How could such an intelligence allow what threatened to be a nasty death.

  “Our work here is ongoing,” continued Kaba. “By your time scale it is slow, but we can sit for hundreds of years in order to carry our experiments through. Some of the benefits you will already have noticed; the way the tribespeople can control the wild beasts by the strength of their minds, for example.”

  Ignatious was unable to control the trembling of his body. “But what is your purpose?” he asked.

  The Elder explained calmly. “I have neither the time nor the inclination to go fully into our business but I will tell you something that you will not be able to accept. You are a religious man and will follow your faith.”

  He paused before speaking again. “My ancestors came to this planet billions of years ago. They watched this ball of gas cool and develop. They were experts in the construction of life – DNA
, which you have now discovered, being a large factor in that.”

  “What do you mean?” asked a pensive Ignatious.

  “I mean that we, not your God, produced all life on this Earth. We made mistakes along the way, the dinosaurs being one of them. What useless, ugly, ungainly creatures they were. They provided nothing of value to the planet. They destroyed rather than enhanced life. So we got rid of them.”

  “No. they were wiped out as a result of a giant meteorite hitting Earth.”

  Kaba almost smiled. “No, Gawain, they didn’t. Do you not think that all other life would have died had that been so? The birds lived. Many, many other creatures survived, even some of the dinosaurs. Although they died relatively soon after.”

  “But how?” stammered Ignatious.

  “Germs. Microbes. Organisms. We merely infected them. Anyway, it is enough for you to know that we created Man at a later stage. Based on apes, an experiment gone wrong, my ancestors manufactured Man. He appeared in a less than satisfactory form – genetic engineering is ruled by very fine lines you must understand. However, we got it mostly right in the end. Unfortunately, we had to leave before correcting one of our major errors.”

  “And what would that be?”

  “Violence, my friend, violence. The brain had too strong a strand and it retains the sometimes necessary aggression for too long a period. Our brains have just the correct amount. We never have wars between what you would call nations, nor do we encounter aggression from other planets. Only Earth is so violent. In four or five hundred years from now, you will have improved to a near perfect standard. Your Earth will survive, and it will improve.”

  Ignatious was aghast. “But what is happening to my colleagues and myself is violent!”

  The Elder shook his head slowly. “We cannot interfere too much here. Tradition is important and we must allow it to continue.”