Custodian_Monster of Earth Book One
Page 6
“What are you doing, Frank?” Gladosanthos finally asked.
“I'm having one beer for each of the fallen soldiers. Then the other four are for me.”
No more words were spoken until they reached the island.
* * *
Phildan dropped down to the beach and stretched. “Its nice to finally be out of the boat.” He walked out of the shadow and flexed his four shoulders in the sunshine.
Right behind him, Frank touched down and began removing his clothing. “I need to hang these up to dry somewhere. Holy shit it was hot inside that dome.”
“Yes, the Mingrein do like it warm.” Phildan darted straight for the surf. Frank considered asking him to grab some fish while he was out there, and then remembered being chastised by Gladosanthos for eating meat.
Just then her orb appeared. “It is as I suspected. The soil samples are showing unearthly contaminates.”
“What's that mean?”
“It's a byproduct of climate tampering.”
“Huh?”
“Someone is trying to raise the overall temperature of the Earth. And it's been going on for quite some time.”
“Could the Mingrein be doing this on their own? They would have been found out by now.”
“It looks like they had help. And that would explain all the Li technology that is rampant on this planet.”
“On top of fighting giant lizards and little gray freaks......”
“Yes, we have a mystery on our hands.”
“Speaking of mysteries, I'm one hundred percent sure I was shot in my arm and it healed itself. What the hell did you guys do to me? Is it part of the shield? I need to know what the hell's happening to me.”
“You did get shot, Frank. You reached outside your shield and you took several rounds to your forearm and hand.”
“So how did it heal?”
“There is one other component that must be present for the shield to function properly.”
“Go on.”
“For lack of a better term, we'll call it a wellness implant. It was inserted into the area of your brain that controls healing. Your body is operating at beyond normal maximum efficiency and you are able to heal from most wounds very quickly.”
Frank blinked. “So on top of being bullet-proof......holy shit.” Frank looked thoughtful. “Is that why I can't seem to light a buzz from this beer?”
“That is correct.”
Frank walked to where his clothes were laying and produced a lighter from the pocket of his jeans. Then from the pocket from the hoodie he pulled out a pack of cigars. As he lit one he asked, “So will these hurt me?”
“No, and any past damage has been repaired.”
Frank blinked again. “So how long does this last?”
“Indefinitely.”
“Bullshit. Everything dies.”
“Not everything, Frank.”
* * *
She left him alone again to allow him time to process his thoughts. He watched Phildan diving repeatedly to fetch shells from the ocean floor. He would examine them then drop them back in, then repeat the process. Grabbing the final beer from the box, he opened it and drained it in one drink.
“Gladys!” He called to her and she returned almost instantly. “Do I need to eat still?” He looked down at himself. His body fat had seemed to have been melting off during the past several days. The muscles underneath from years of hard work were now visible.
“Yes, but not as much.”
“Do I need to sleep?”
“No, but it helps.”
He thought for a moment. “How are you able to put alien tech inside my brain and make it work so flawlessly? You say you can't even stand the gravity here. I can't even imagine how different we really are.”
“As I said before, I know humans better than you know yourselves.”
“How is that possible? I know you have visited here in the past. And I know you're a scientist. Have you studied us so thoroughly as to make this possible?”
“Not exactly. I have given you the implant that is our most guarded secret. I have committed the highest treason. I can never return home. But I couldn't let any more planets get enslaved and plundered. Especially not this planet.”
“Why are you so sentimental about Earth?”
“Humans didn't evolve like your scientists here seem to believe. You were brought here over one hundred thousand Terran years ago.”
Frank felt any and all remaining religious beliefs dissolving from his mind. “Who brought us here?”
“The Sessik.”
“I'm lost.”
“There was a great war. The Li had produced trillions of Rotinoms and were invading and occupying planet after planet. We were commissioned by a group of allies to construct a standing army to fight to end the war that had gone on for centuries. We genetically engineered humans to be that army.”
Frank blinked yet again, but this time he was speechless.
“The humans were modeled after a higher primate, and given higher intelligence and a heightened sense of self preservation. Mammals are adaptive and care for their own young, so the problems associated with species maturation were significantly lessened.”
“This is a lot to take in,” he said, feeling like his head would explode.
“As long as I'm telling you everything, I might as well tell you about what happened after the war.”
“Yes, do tell.”
“The human army performed perfectly. In addition to soldiers, there were human farmers, carpenters, engineers, care givers....everything a society needs to mount a war effort. They were implanted on several planets throughout the galaxy, with Earth being the primary reserve planet. No one from Earth is directly descended from anyone who actually saw any action in the war.
“After the war, there were philosophical differences as to the fate of the humans. Several of our allies, and most Sessik, believed the humans should have been destroyed.”
“You sure do seem to know a lot about ancient history.”
“I was there, Frank. I was in charge of the project that created your people.”
“So, you're telling me you're over one hundred thousand years old?”
“Yes, Frank.”
Frank tried to get the wheels in his head to turn. He wondered how any of this was even possible. Then it hit him. “The implant.”
“We conquered death long ago.”
“Amazing.”
“Technologically amazing, yes. But it had a price. Immortality has all but killed us off.”
“I don't understand. With all the time in the world available, wouldn't everyone be happy?”
“We learned the hard way that when a species is long lived, they don't procreate as often, or if ever. Shorter lived species procreate often so the species continues. That is the normal, natural path of immortality. Not of the individual but of the species. That is the natural order of things.”
“So you made me immortal.” It was a statement, not a question.
“You can still be killed. You lack the primary defense mechanism of the Sessik.”
“Oh? What's that?”
“The closest English word to describe it is Reverence.”
“Reverence? So everyone respects you too much to kill you? Is this a joke?”
“It isn't a joke, Frank. We have a naturally occurring power of suggestion. It's part pheromone and part telepathy. Anyone who encounters us in person is powerless to our persuasion, and we can really turn it up when we need to. So far only the Mingrein have ever been able to resist the influence of the Reverence.”
“Is that how you brought me in? Have I been hypnotized?”
“No, Frank. The only time I've ever been in direct contact with you is when we installed the implant. You were in stasis at the time, on the verge of death from your wound.”
“So why did you do it? Why didn't you just let me die?”
“I didn't want any humans to die, and you did pass the test after all.�
�
* * *
Frank was relieved to hear that he could still be killed. He wasn't ready to be rid of his death-wish quite yet. Phildan was walking back from the surf and took a seat in the sand near Frank. After just staring for some time he finally asked, “She told you, didn't she?”
“Yup. I really don't know how to take it.”
“That is quite understandable.”
“So are you immortal too, Phil?”
“No, although the Mistress can prolong my life indefinitely.”
“So how old are you?”
Phildan seemed to be doing calculations in his head. “Around five hundred Terran years, if I had to guess. It's never been something to concern myself with.”
“Does she use the Reverence on you? Is that why you're still serving her?”
“I don't believe so. She told me about it once, and said she tried to make us immune to it. But I think I would be here either way, to be totally honest. She is my only friend.”
“Well now you got two friends, bud.”
“I am quite honored.” Phildan turned purple.
They talked for a while about several topics ranging from gravitational dampeners to floor joist layout. Phildan told Frank more about the raid on the Grand Archive, which had been the last time he'd seen his twin. He described in great detail the horror of it all, and how one Mingrein, being immune to the Reverence, apparently placed an explosive directly on the person of one Sessik, obliterating him. They had taken several scrolls and Phildan's twin with them. That had been many years ago but the pain still sounded fresh in his voice.
“Well, I got a few of them already. Maybe I can get a few more before they figure out how to take me out.”
“The sentiment is appreciated, but I'd rather keep you alive all the same.”
“Phil, I've never been a soldier, so I have no real experience with this. But I have been in a few fights in my life. I just feel like if I go in assuming I'm going to die then I won't be so damned concerned about staying alive. I mean, I'll be free to get shit done if I don't worry too much about it.”
“I'll just say that I don't understand completely. It must be a human thing.”
“Do we have internet out here?”
“No, Frank. We would have to relocate.”
“Let's do it. I want to watch the news.”
“Where to?”
“Indianapolis. I need to pick up some more clothes anyway.”
* * *
The landing boat, in it's normal state, resembled a plain metallic wheel, turned on it's side as if someone had stacked several giant nickels on top of each other. When its reflective array is activated, however, it resembles nothing at all. It is unseen. The gravitational dampeners keep the occupants upright and comfortable despite whatever maneuvers she's placed through. And she was fast. They were hovering over Frank's apartment within minutes. Frank was putting on his dirty clothes when Gladosanthos' orb found him.
“Frank, how valuable is gold?”
“I don't know. Let's look it up.” He searched the topic on his tablet and told her.
“I don't fully understand the value of American currency, but we seem to have billions of dollars to work with if that helps anything.”
Frank paused before speaking. “Immortal and rich. If you can make me handsome, then that would be the trifecta.” The joke was lost as no one else on board seemed to know how to gauge human beauty. “Hold tight here while I check the news.”
After checking the feeds of all the news outlets he could think of, Frank found that there was no mention of the events in Texas anywhere. He then did a new search for 'Texas Alien Attack' and then found a few stories on sites that could only be described as internet tabloids. He was amused to see himself describes as “a mysterious flying gray man”. He decided that no news was good news as far as staying low profile, but it was somehow troubling that the media would bury the story, and the world was still unprepared for what it was facing. The attack on Texas was just a small raiding party. When the real invasion hit, the Earth would be easy picking.
“Frank, I wish to give funds to Sam to rebuild his establishment.” Gladosanthos sounded sincere and apologetic.
“That would be a nice gesture. But it won't do him any good to know about you guys. I'll have to work that out.”
“Please do.”
“Can I get some gold to convert into cash? I have some errands to run.”
“Certainly. We only have a small amount here on the boat. But there is plenty more on the Main Ship. And if we need more, we can get it. It is readily available off-world.”
“So it's basically worthless everywhere else in the galaxy?”
“Pretty much.”
“I don't know why I find that so funny. You coming with me again?”
“Not this time. I have other matters to attend to.”
After Phildan presented him with several wafers of gold, he pointed to a spot, “Set me down right there in back.” He positioned himself on the red circle. “See if you can't find out the condition of those soldiers. I figure if you find out who that news reporter up on the hill was, you could track them down. See you soon.” He dropped. Phildan set out to do research.
Frank rounded the building of his apartment and went up the stairs to his place. He locked the door behind him and went straight to shower. Afterward, he located a duffle bag and packed up several changes of clothing and toiletries. He used his phone to find the nearest cash for gold establishment and headed out to his van. It seemed funny to travel so slowly, having traversed the globe so quickly in the boat. But he loved his van. It had been his mobile office for so long, as had the one before it. The good thing about these old Ford vans was they were so fixable whenever something broke.
He ended up visiting several gold buyers and clearing out all of their cash that day. While he had worked hard his entire life, from an early age, Frank couldn't ever remember even seeing that much money in one place at one time before. He was looking forward to his next stop. He didn't notice the black SUV that was following him.
The law offices of Lewis, Price, Smith and Williams were quite ornate, with exquisite furnishings and prints of some of the most popular artwork throughout. Brass handled doors, right off the elevator in the most prestigious office building in town, led to the desk of a receptionist who must have been a princess in some past life. She regarded Frank like some homeless vagrant that just asked her for her spare change.
“Mr. Williams is very busy. Do you have an appointment?” she asked, knowing full well he didn't.
“Tell him Frank Ford is here to see him.”
“Just a moment, sir,” her eye roll was overt as she picked up the phone and punched in the extension. “A Mr. Ford is here to see you, sir...........yes........Frank Ford, sir..........yes right away, sir.......” She hung up the receiver and looked back to Frank as if she had made some grave mistake. “Mr. Williams will see you, sir. Down the hall, second door on the right.”
Frank strolled down the hall, looking very out of place in his torn jeans and hoodie. But he didn't care one bit. He opened the door without knocking, walked in and closed it behind him. He took a seat across from Terrelle and sat quietly at first.
“Frank, I've been wanting to talk to you about the car.”
“I'll take it.” He didn't hesitate. He was amused knowing Terrelle had no recollection of their previous conversation. Terrelle looked different today. Somehow older. There was a hint of gray in his hair now. But his bravado remained.
“We just need to agree on a price.” Terrelle had changed his stance, trying to assert his dominance.
“Name it.” Frank was enjoying this.
“Ten thousand.”
“Done.” Frank was smiling. He couldn't resist asking, “So how's Detroit?”
“Motherfucker! Did you talk to Sammie? How the fuck do you know about Detroit?”
“T, I need to hire you as my attorney.”
“You can't
afford me. How the fuck do you know about Detroit?”
“I was there, T.”
“No, you weren't. It was me and Wendy and Sammie and some other people. You weren't there.”
“How many others though?”
“Eight.”
“Well that makes eleven. How many were there in all the other groups?”
“Twelve.” Terrelle stared at Frank for some time. “You were there, weren't you? I've never known you to lie.”
“Yes. And now I want to hire you.”
“You can't afford me.”
“Oh, I have some money saved up. Is ten thousand enough for a retainer?” There was no answer. “How about twenty? Thirty?”
“Okay Frank, you win. What do you need an attorney for?”
“This is confidential, right?”
Terrelle sighed, “Yes, Frank.”
“Well I've been appointed as Custodian of Earth and I'm not sure it's totally legal.”
“That's real funny.”
Frank pulled out a stack of cash and laid it on the desk. “Yup. Real funny.”
“I couldn't even take my wife to visit my grandmother because of you.”
“I didn't do anything.” Frank shrugged.
“And everyone else in the family always has something to say about it too.”
“Do you love her?”
“Yes, of course. I've always loved her. Since I first laid eyes on her.”
“Then fuck 'em.” They stared each other down for a few seconds.
“Okay Frank, you win.”
“Good. I need the running back Terrelle, not the pansy, crying over yard work Terrelle.”
“Damn. Well not all of us can cut grass as good as Frank Ford.”
“True. Now for the first order of business, I need to get some funds to Sammie on the down-low. My benefactor feels terrible about what became of his bar when you all were relocated.”
“Ask your benefactor about my damn Corvette. It was gone when I got back. Insurance is giving me the runaround.”
“I'll see what I can do.” Frank thought for a second. “Maybe we should set up an LLC. I'm basically a contractor still.”