Godschild Covenant: Return of Nibiru

by Marshall Masters

  “Most impressive.” She leaned forward resting her arms on her desk. “Then let's cut to the chase, as they used to say in Hollywood."

  “Professor Goldberg, I'll tell you exactly what I told the Senator when she first broached the idea. I told her that I'm not sure this is the right place or time for such a thing. Interviewing healthy, stable holocaust survivors is one thing, but ninety percent of the people who will be coming through our gate in a few days will be deathly ill. To put it simply, professor, they'll be coming here to die, and most of them will barely have the energy or will to give us the personal data we'll need to process them, let alone video interviews."

  “I understand that, madam, but we have a flexible production method that has been proven with many ill Holocaust survivors, some of whom gave their testimonials from their death beds. You may rest assured that we can manage this. Also, I must point out that while we formerly used student volunteers, we are underwritten by The Ronald Reagan Presidential Foundation, which has spared no expense for this effort.

  Further, Fox News has loaned us one of their best news teams, headed by Rose O'Hara, who has been following Captain Jarman since he was initially called up to serve. Plus, Panavision has equipped us with their newest HDTV production equipment, because everything we'll shoot here in your center will become part of special Library of Congress exhibit in Washington. The working title for this collective work has been dubbed the ‘The Great Dying,’ but that could change. Nonetheless, we're here to do it right, and that is what matters!"

  “The Senator told me as much, Professor Goldberg,” Tanya replied as she leaned back in her chair to study the man. “Professor, in two days we are going to open this center. The minute the Homeland Defense forces boys take down the I35 barrier on Highway 17, there is going to be steady stream of sick and dying people coming to the place in ambulances, trucks, hand drawn carts and on foot. In the beginning, they'll come from the local hospitals that are desperately straining at the seams right now with terminal patients. When that happens, you and the Fox News folks will be officially quarantined, and if you or any member of your crew attempts to leave before the quarantine is lifted, our guards have orders to shoot on sight. Do you fully understand the ramifications of this?"

  She continued to study his face for any signs of indecision or doubt. Finding none, she upped the ante. “Each of us volunteered, knowing all of that up front. Look, we know it is going to be a well-organized hell and that we could be here for months, and maybe, God-forbid, years, watching people dying of influenza, heavy metal poisoning, cancer and you name it. But most of them will be dying from 3G, and when that eases up, so should the quarantine. So tell me, professor, what do you know about the Three Gorges flu?” That being said, the professor moved his computer bag from his lap to the floor and relaxed in his chair.

  Tanya liked his straightforward manner. It was something that could make it easy to deal with him and his crew if their stay became dramatically extended. “Basically, nothing more than what the Internet news streams are telling us, which really isn't much when you boil out all the rehashed press releases. Like most, all I know is that it cropped up near the burst Three Gorges dam, and it has already killed nearly one billion people in China and Southeast Asia."

  “Then, there is no point in discussing the risks any further,” Goldberg added.

  “Not as long as you know what you're getting yourself into.” Tanya said wistfully, “So, what is the next step?"

  “As you know, there are four of us, including myself: A reporter, cameraman, sound grip and myself, acting as field producer. We know you're pressed for facilities so we've brought two thirty foot motor homes to live in plus our broadcast truck. All we'll need from the center are three hot meals a day and utility hookups for the vehicles. Other than that, we'll do our level best to stay out of your hair."

  Tanya studied the man long and hard and decided that she liked him and that she could work with him. “I'll arrange for you meet Captain Jarman this evening after dinner, which is served at 18:30, and tomorrow morning you and your crew will receive your first G3 inhibitor injections. In the meantime, I'll have my orderly arrange for someone in maintenance to provide you with whatever utility hookups you'll need for your vehicles that we can provide.” She paused. “By the way, have you got a family?"

  “A wife, Yeta, and two fine sons."

  “How do they feel about this?"

  “What would you expect?” he asked as he gathered up his computer bag. Rising out of his chair, he left the question hanging unanswered in the air, then stopped at the door and turned back to look at her. “You know, Tanya, you remind me of my grandmother. She was only ten years old when she walked out of Auschwitz, an orphan. She would have liked you very much. You have her kind of strength."

  * * * *

  THE MEETING WITH Anthony Jarman the previous evening had gone exceptionally well. He was already familiar with Rose and her Fox News team from their time together in New York, so the evening was more a regaling of humorous, as well as more serious, memories for the benefit of Tanya and Father Bennett.

  With the center still under construction, Goldberg decided to shoot some basic location segments in the morning. Later in the afternoon, they'd interview Father Bennett and several of his volunteer hospice caregivers.

  The first shooting location Goldberg picked with Rose's help was the freeway bordering the northwestern edge of the drained Lexington Reservoir, which now served as the home for the Los Gatos Triage Center.

  Jerry Pelletier, Rose's video operator checked the battery level indicator in the Panavision's viewfinder display. With an annoyed grunt, he removed the brick-sized rechargeable battery from the back of the camera and handed it back to his soundman. “Yo, Pete! This brick is not holding up."

  “Gotcha,” Pete Gibbons, his soundman replied. The grip set down his headphones, pulled another fuel cell out of the kit bag next to his feet and exchanged it for the one in the cameraman's hand. “Yeah, I figured this one could be a problem child. I'll give it a deep discharge tonight and refuel it. If that doesn't work, I'll send it back to Panavision."

  The exchange between his cameraman and soundman caught Professor Idan Goldberg's attention. “Do we have enough bricks for this scene and the interview at the quarry?"

  “No worries,” Jerry replied. “We have all the bricks we need. Some are just better than others are. Besides, we'll be using the camp AC when we shoot the interviews. We'll be ready a minute or so."

  “Good show.” Goldberg nodded appreciatively and returned to his conversation with Rose O'Hara. “Rose, you'll be standing here by the side of Interstate 17 with the Lexington Reservoir Dam behind you. I'm going to have Pete open with a medium wide on you and the collapsed dam in the background. After you turn and point to Limekiln Gulch Road, he'll slowly pull out as he pans left to the pass to show Interstate 17 behind you. Remember, you'll cue him when you point to the road."

  Rose smiled, “Got it, Idan.” She was a pro with a photographic memory, and proud of her nickname at Fox, ‘First Take O'Hara.'

  She moved to her mark and waited patiently as Pete Gibbons checked the wireless microphone transmitter fastened to the back pocket of her faded jeans. Satisfied, he sat back down next to the recording deck and put on his headphones. “Give me a sound check, Rose."

  “This is Rose O'Hara, and I had my first shower in three days last night with all the hot water I wanted. I loved it!"

  “That's good,” Jerry said. “I think we got some great B roll video of that shower scene."

  Rose glared at him, “You smart ass, you just wish, and you can forget trying to shoot butt shots of me while I'm not looking. Don't even try it!"

  Both fit, handsome and in their late twenties, Jerry Pelletier and Pete Gibbons were not the kind of fellows who would go lacking for female attention, and, like most video crews, they loved practical jokes—especially when the mark had a fiery Irish temper. The two looked at each other with juvenile g
rins and threw their hands over their heads as they chanted, “We are not worthy, oh big, bad carrot top bawana lady."

  Idan Goldberg bit his finger to keep from laughing. Why most people labor under the impression that video production is a glamorous endeavor, the truth is that it is tedious, hard work and more often boring than not. Without these kinds of antics to release the tension, a crew could turn on itself in short order and lose its effectiveness. Still, it was time to roll video. “Positions everyone. Rose, please hold up the back of the slate sheet for a white balance.” The antics quickly stopped as she held up a blank sheet of common white ink jet paper in front of her. Jerry zoomed in on it to lock in the camera's color settings, which, given the overall pink tint of the morning sky, took some time. Pete waved his hand to let Idan know he was ready on the sound as Rose flipped the sheet over exposing the scene slate to the camera.

  “Rose, give me a voice slate on this one,” Idan looked over at Jerry. “Roll tape."

  Jerry punched the record button on the video deck and announced, “Speed” to let everyone know that the deck was recording.

  Rose announced the slate, “Lexington Reservoir from I17, scene 1, take 1,” then dropped the paper to the ground.

  “On three,” Idan said to Rose. “One, two..."

  “I'm Rose O'Hara, and behind me is the Lexington Reservoir. Prior to Shiva's flyby, this 475-acre man-made reservoir supplied fresh water for the cities of the Silicon Valley on the other side of the Santa Cruz Mountains that border the western and southern flanks of the Silicon Valley. During the Shiva flyby six months ago, the spillway at the North end of the reservoir failed when a massive 9.0 quake along the San Andreas Fault, which runs through the heart of this mountain range, literally tore it apart. Fortunately, most of the other water reservoirs in the Santa Cruz Mountains survived the tsunami. However, the now empty Lexington Reservoir you now see behind me was one of the largest, and its considerable supply of fresh water was forever lost. When the spillway failed, it caused massive flooding of the southern half of the small upscale community of Los Gatos, just north of here. Now emptied of water, this dried-out reservoir has become the home of the Los Gatos Triage Center for the terminally ill and those who wish to exercise their right of assisted suicide."

  Rose pointed off to her right, giving Pete the signal to begin his camera move, as she continued. “Behind me is the Limekiln Gulch Road that runs along the north end of the reservoir and out to Interstate 17, which leads north to Los Gatos and then onto San Jose some three miles north of here through the last mountain pass between here and the Silicon Valley. Tomorrow, the Los Gatos checkpoint, some three miles north of here, will open this stretch of road, and then the dead and dying from Silicon Valley and mid-peninsula areas will begin to arrive."

  Her dialogue finished, Rose continued to look into the camera until Idan said, “Cut."

  Rose took a deep breath. “That was a long one,” she sighed.

  Idan looked over at Pete and Jerry. They both hoisted a thumbs-up sign to show the take had been free of technical glitches. “First Take O'Hara,” Idan exclaimed with satisfaction. “OK, let's get a safety take and we're off to the quarry. Rose, let me know when you're ready for the safety take."

  * * * *

  THIS WAS THE first time Dodge Murphy would look down the lens of a professional video camera, and the gray-haired quarry manager prayed he wouldn't come off looking as dumb as a deer caught in the headlights.

  Rose leaned over towards the tanned, heavy-set man. “Mr. Murphy, I want you to stand facing a little towards me.” She placed her hands on the man's broad shoulders, and he followed her lead until she had him turned in the right direction. “We'll both be looking at the camera while I open the scene. When you see me turn my body towards you, just turn your head only until you face me. After that, I'll ask a few questions, and when I move the microphone to you, look at me and answer the questions. It is that simple."

  He cleared his throat. “OK, but just don't let me screw up.” Rose winked at him, and that alone seemed to relax him. He immediately sensed that she'd make sure he came out of this without looking foolish. His eyes remained fixed on the little red light on the front of the camera. The voice of the video crew blurred past him as Idan ran the count, “On three. One, two..."

  “With me today is Mr. Dodge Murphy, the manager of the Sierra Azul quarry, which you see behind us. The quarry is less than a mile northeast of the Lexington Reservoir and connected to I17 by the Limekiln Gulch Road that also runs along the northern end of the reservoir.” Rose turned towards the quarry manager and asked her first question.

  “Mr. Murphy, the U.S. Geological Relief map of this area shows this as a Limestone quarry. Could you explain why?” She held the microphone in front of his face and looked reassuringly in his eyes. Rose had been doing interviews like these for years, and she had an uncanny knack for calming stage fright with a simple a smile and a nod.

  “Well, I suppose that is because there used to be a limestone plant further down the road back towards the reservoir.” He held up a white and yellow rock. “This is what limestone looks like if you've never seen it before. They used to mine this and then process it into quick lime, but they stopped doing that back in 1930 I believe. Since then, we've used this quarry to produce what we call Gray Whacky. Basically, just hard rock used for drainage.” He held up a small, dull gray rock. “It looks something like this."

  Rose brought the microphone back to herself for the next question. “Could you tell us what the quarry is being used for today."

  Murphy nodded, and she pushed the microphone back towards him. “Well, actually the quarry has been purchased by FEMA, and we're doing three things now. First, our quarry has been converted to a mass gravesite. As I understand it, when they burned all those bodies in Los Angeles, the smell was something awful and really made it difficult for the government to maintain order. The tsunami that hit here dragged most all of the dead out to sea, and the local cemeteries have handled the rest so far, but now with folks dying from the heavy metal poisoning and such so fast now, the feds decided that it would be best to bury them here. You see, we've got a sizable pit in the quarry and the equipment to back-fill it so I guess we were the logical choice. Also, we've just completed rebuilding the limestone processing plant so we'll have plenty of quick lime on hand for the graves. That way, the government won't have to truck it in."

  “I believe the third responsibility for your operation is actually in support of the triage center itself?"

  “Uh, that's right. Since we already have lots of earth moving equipment, we were contracted to level the reservoir bottom for the center and dig the burial trenches. We also keep a couple of men and some equipment there in the camp to spread quick lime on the bodies and to fill in the trenches."

  Rose could see the anguish in the man's face. After a life of serving the needs of building and road contractors, he faced a dark and sad future. “I'm sure this is a most unpleasant task for you, Mr. Murphy. I wonder, how do you and your employees feel about this?"

  A glimmer of pride crossed his face. “Yeah, it's a terrible job but I want you to know that we all volunteered for it—to a man and woman. Heck, my gals in the office are out fueling vehicles and doing paperwork for the feds, and they've all got little ones. Damn brave ladies if you ask me. Sure, the Army Corps of Engineers could have come in here and run the show, but this is our land, and we're going to be burying folks from around here. We're not shirkers. No ma'am, we're not!"

  “Mr. Murphy, I want you and your employees to know that you are appreciated and that future generations will know about your courage.” She paused to reach out her hand and squeezed his arm, then continued. “Before we leave you, just two more questions. First, where do you get your water now, given that the reservoir has emptied and second, will these mass graves pollute any important water aquifers in this area?"

  He chuckled as she extended the microphone back towards him. “Well, let me answe
r the second question first. There is no underground alluvial aquifer under these mountains, so that is not a problem. However, we do have plenty of small aquifers in the cracks that crisscross these mountains. That's where we're getting our water and the triage center over in the reservoir as well, plus we're supplying small amounts of emergency water for the city of Los Gatos, as well."

  “But are there a sufficient number of these small aquifers to continue to supply water for an extended period of time?"

  “Oh, yeah. Heck, there is a whole mess of them all around these hills and not a one is connected to the other. Darn funny, these aquifers around here. You can drill to China in one spot and not hit a drop. Move your rig ten feet in any one direction and you hit water big time. That is why we've got two water well drillers running full time. I guess we're lucky in the water department. On the other hand, getting enough fuel for trucks and earth moving equipment is another thing, but I won't bore you with that."

  Rose smiled, “Yes Mr. Murphy, these are difficult times, but thanks to people you and your employees, I know in my heart that we'll pull through it and that there will be better days in the future.” She turned to face the camera.

  “Tomorrow morning, the first trucks will begin rolling into this quarry from over the hill behind us, filled with body bags. In the years to come, those who come to their final rest here will not be forgotten."

  * * * *

  THE MORNING HAD been intense for the crew, and the hot lunch in the triage center mess was both delicious and filling. Corporal Sharma, Wheelwright's clerk, was certainly right about one thing. The work was hell, but the chow was good. As Pete and Jerry went back to the serving line for second helpings, Idan and Rose pushed their empty trays aside to make room for their notepads.

  “That last interview with Boole, the Chief Medical Officer went pretty much as expected,” Rose noted. “I'll say one thing; he's a good man to have in your corner if you're fighting for your life. He's not like a lot of doctors I've known that have about as much warmth as a cyborg. He really does care. I like that."