Godschild Covenant: Return of Nibiru

by Marshall Masters

  Anthony shoved his plate aside. “I just lost my appetite."

  “So, what in the hell is bugging you, anyway?"

  “Let's take this outside."

  “Don't forget the biscuit. That's the one thing they do right up here."

  Anthony picked up the biscuit, but felt more like throwing it in Vigo's face than eating it. But the grinning bastard was right. It would take the edge off his hunger. Without saying a word, he walked out of the tent with Vigo in tow.

  In an open stretch of roadway halfway between the mess tent and the helipad, Anthony spun around to face him. “I've had nothing but mixed feelings about you from first minute we met on the tarmac back at Livermore Air Base, when that cocky Major Peal backed down from you."

  “Since then, I don't see you any more, and worse yet, you don't tell me anything about my son. I'm sitting here in a total fucking vacuum with nothing but a video message that tears my guts out each time I look at it. This is the first day since you gave me the videophone that you and I have spoken more than 10 words to one another. You owe me more than that, you son-of-a-bitch, but what do you do? You drift in here like a thief in the night, screw the hell out of my nurse and then disappear for days."

  Vigo's eyes flared with anger, and he jabbed a finger in Anthony's face. “I may be a son-of-a-bitch for the way I've treated you, but you damn well better keep Ann-Marie out of this. She and I go way back, and I got feelings for her, so show some respect!"

  Had it been any other man, Vigo would have cold cocked him right there, but this was not any other man. In fact, the anger in Anthony's face cut through Vigo's heart like a rusty knife. He had come to love the younger man in a way a father loves a son who doesn't want to know him. How could he explain that by avoiding him he was protecting him?

  The confrontation caused an unexpected wave of emotion to well up within him, such that it would have pushed a normal man to imploring words, but not Vigo; he was too well trained to allow that to happen. More to the point, he couldn't afford to let it happen. Yet, he could see that Anthony now sensed the inner turmoil behind his cool poker face and began to wonder if he wasn't acting a bit over the edge, himself.

  “OK, so you and Nurse Bournelle are two consenting adults,” Anthony said through pursed lips. “But now I find that you've been playing Father Knows Best with my orderly. If you got business with me, Mr. whatever your spook name is today, you come take it up with me directly. Don't go behind my back and play paddy cakes with the very people I depend upon to do my job!"

  “Anthony, you've got a right to be angry with me, son.” The last word just slipped out of his mouth, even to his own astonishment. Anthony had heard it as clear as a bell, and now he could see a new dimension forming—but what? “If I were to pay special attention to you, it would be noticed and by the wrong people. What you've got to understand is that I'm trying to protect you. If you've got to hate me for it, go ahead and do it, but that won't stop me."

  “I don't understand what you're talking about."

  “I gotta do it for you and your son, Russell. Can't you just trust me on this?"

  “Why should I?"

  “Because you, Russell and Ann-Marie are all I have left of my life before this insanity began. Can you trust me enough to protect what little I have left in my life?"

  Vigo moved closer to him and spoke softly. “Do you really think this is some mercy junket for a pampered politician this evening?” Anthony shrugged his shoulders. “Colonel Wheelwright does, but trust me when I tell you she's in the dark about what's really happening, and so are you.” Vigo moved a step closer so that the tips of their noses were only inches apart. “It's about Russell, and that's all I can tell you right now, because that's all Senator Chavez has told me. Tonight, when you help her across you'll know everything there is to know. For the love of God, please don't blow it now. We're so close."

  Anthony nodded silently in agreement.

  “Look, son, do you think I'm blind? Deep down inside your guts, you've got instincts you never felt before and they are making you want to grab me by the throat and scream ‘where in the hell is my boy, you spook bastard?’”

  Anthony backed up. Knowing that he was on the threshold of real news, made him feel as though Vigo had just dropped him on head. Worse yet, he was right. There was a new anger deep inside him now that he'd never felt before, clamoring for him to grab Vigo by the throat and to shake him till he got every drop of information out of him.

  Upset and dizzy, Anthony sat down on a large storage crate lying next to the roadway. Vigo sat down next to him, and could see his jaw trembling as his breathing quickened. He laid his hand on his shoulder. “We'll find him, son,” Vigo assured him in a soothing voice. “We'll find him.” He then took a flask out of his back pocket and opened the cap. “Will a slug of cognac slow you down tonight?"

  Anthony took the flask. “No, a few swigs will probably help me more now than hurt me at this point,” he said taking a drink. The warm feeling of the cognac running down the inside of his chest was comforting. He took another drink and handed the flask back to Vigo. “Thanks. Let's just sit here for a bit. I feel like I just got slapped upside the head with a dead salmon. I need a moment to sort through this."

  They sat in silence for a few minutes and then began to talk about Roxanne LeBlanc and his son, as Vigo occasionally checked his watch from time to time to be sure they would make it the rest of the way up the hill in time for the chopper.

  “We've got to go now, Anthony. Colonel Wheelwright and Ann-Marie are probably at the helipad by now and wondering where we are, since we're coming up the back way."

  The two rose and resumed their walk up the hill when Anthony paused. “Before we go, there's something I've got to tell you. It's something I've never told anyone before, and it's got to stay between us."

  “You got it, son."

  “A year after the last time I saw Roxanne, I finally had to admit to myself that I was in love with her. She was the first woman I've ever loved, and now that she's dead, I'll never get the chance to tell her that. I'd give the world to change that."

  “Anthony, you and I have the same problem. We're both too macho to admit we're carrying the same kind of emotional baggage anyone else does. So, it just rots in our guts and slowly eats away at us one piece at a time. Just keep one thing in mind. She kept a big secret from you, too."

  “Yeah, you've got a point, there."

  Vigo tenderly jabbed Anthony in the ribs. “Whaddya say we form our own private support group and take turns being the shrink?"

  “You couldn't afford my billing rate on Sergeant's pay."

  “I can pay the freight, so don't worry about that. Let's get moving, or we'll be late.” The two started back up the hill with a renewed sense of purpose in their gait.

  * * * *

  THE FLIGHT FROM the Los Gatos Triage Center across the San Francisco Bay Area to the Senator's home in the Berkeley hills had been smooth and uneventful. With consummate skill and graceful precision, the pilot landed the old Huey on the Senator's front lawn.

  As the Huey's large blades slowed to a stop, Chavez's security chief trotted across the lawn to meet them and helped Wheelwright and Bournelle off the chopper with polite deference. Anthony and Vigo were the next to get off, and the security chief motioned them aside.

  Anthony instructed Tanya and Ann-Marie to go ahead with the injector kit and to prep the Senator for the procedure as he remained behind with Vigo and the security chief.

  “We just swept the place for bugs,” the security chief noted in a soft voice. “I'm certain that we got all the video surveillance bugs but there are probably still enough bugs in that house for the damn UNE pukes to hear themselves listening to us if you know what I mean."

  “Thanks, we get your drift,” Vigo replied. “Lead on."

  As the three men walked towards the house, Anthony wondered who would be so desperate as to invade the remaining moments of privacy of a woman who would shortly cro
ss over. Whoever they were, no doubt, they were his enemies, as well, and most likely the ones holding his son. The thought of that made him grit his teeth.

  Once inside the spacious home, they found Ann-Marie by Chavez's bed emptying the contents of the injector kit case and Tanya comforting the dying Senator from the other side of the bed.

  “I'm glad to see you again, Anthony,” Chavez said with a weak voice. She gestured for him to come closer. “I'm so grateful to you for making this special trip."

  Anthony smiled warmly, “You're welcome, Connie. I can only wish it were under better circumstances.” He nodded in Tanya's direction. “You've made a real friend there."

  “And don't I know it,” she chuckled as a small rush of life energy renewed the glow in her. “Tanya, darling,” she called out meekly. “Would you do you me one last favor?"

  “Of course,” Tanya answered as she stepped to her side. Each day, Tanya had watched many die in her center, but this evening, she was losing a dear friend, a woman she deeply admired. It made her feel helpless and sad.

  “I let my household staff go a few days ago, including my gardener, Pedro. He's been with me for years and grows the most wonderful roses for me in the corner of my hothouse, out in the far corner of the backyard. I would love to smell them one last time before I go. Could you be a dear and clip a few for me? You'll find some shears on the bench next to the door."

  Grateful for the opportunity to comfort her, Tanya gently squeezed her hand. “Of course. I'll be right back."

  As she left, Ann-Marie hung the injector on the I.V. stand and connected the trigger grip Anthony would use to release the deadly brew hidden within its white plastic case.

  “You know, I've become quite accustomed to the morphine they keep pumping into me. Will that really work?"

  Anthony stood next to her bed and nodded towards the I.V. stand, “We use a short-acting barbiturate in combination with a chemical paralytic agent, Connie. It is quite painless and effective. Your tolerance to morphine will make no difference. When I press the trigger, you will gently lose consciousness, and moments after that, your heart stops. The process is completely painless."

  “You haven't changed, Anthony. A simple yes would have sufficed."

  He chuckled. “Don't tell me how to build a watch when all I want is the time,” he replied. “You must have told me that a million times."

  “I suppose I did,” she mused. “All the arrangements have been made. After I'm gone, a local mortuary will handle everything. In the meantime, I had my staff prepare a good meal for you and your friends. After I've crossed over, please do not waste time on me. Go, refresh yourselves and raise an occasional toast my way, only please keep the toasts short and humorous."

  Anthony chuckled. “Well, I can see that I'm playing to a tough house tonight.” Standing by his side, Vigo could only shake his head in disbelief wondering how the two of them could treat the matter of her impending death so lightly. But then, he'd seen a seen a similar kind of fatalistic bravado time-and-again on the battlefield, as good friends died in his arms.

  Perhaps the Senator, like his friends was a professional who had long readied herself for such an eventuality. It was the young and inexperienced ones who never had the time to master their own fear of death that would panic at the end.

  “I'm sure that your toasts will receive standing applause,” Chavez teased back weakly. “But tell me honestly, Anthony, what will happen after my heart finally stops?"

  He paused to think about her question and then answered. “Have you had any strange dreams in the last day or so?"

  “Yes, I have,” she answered. “I keep dreaming; well it is much clearer than a dream; that I'm visiting all my friends and colleagues and that I'm trying to tell them things they should know and remember."

  “But they never seem to hear you?"

  “Yes. Precisely. My priest and my doctor are both telling me that I'm hallucinating but I know my own mind enough to know that it has to be more than that."

  “You're not hallucinating, Connie. You have been doing something I call ‘walking.’ What that means, is that as you come nearer to finally crossing over, your spirit travels outside of your body to visit those for whom you care. The reason your friends and colleagues cannot hear you is the same reason why your priest and your doctor think that you are hallucinating. You are one step ahead of all of them in the cycle of life. This is just the way it works. Some cultures understand this and show reverence for what you are experiencing. Regrettably, our culture does not, and worse yet, we have the egotistical nerve to call those cultures that do backwards and primitive."

  “So are you saying that death is like taking a long walk and never coming back?"

  “Not necessarily. Once you step out of this body for the last time, you will be just as aware of yourself as you were in your walking dreams, but even more so. After that, there will be a universe of options for you to consider."

  “Reincarnation is not accepted by my faith, but then I've never been devout. This makes me curious. Will I ever forget this life? Who I am? What I've done?"

  Anthony placed one hand palm down under hers. His gentle touch connected with her and filled her with a special sense of comfort, as though she was suddenly now seeing her life in a new way.

  “I like to think that mankind will survive and continue to evolve to the point where we will be able to remember our past lives as easily as we remember our first kiss. We will also remember those whom we've hurt through their own feelings and pain. This will fill us with the desire to define our lives through the noble deeds and tender love we shared with others in our life. In a manner of speaking, we will eventually learn to lead lives that we can cherish forever by not darkening them with senseless violent acts."

  “I wonder how I'll remember this life. Will I cherish it? I hope so. I haven't always been a saint, but then I have few regrets as well."

  “Connie, trust me when I tell you that you will cherish this life, especially through the experiences and feelings of those who have loved and cherished you. These memories will be so great; your human failings will pale in comparison. All in all, you will look back upon this life with a special reverence. In this, you are most fortunate."

  The Senator looked into his eyes with deep gratitude not for what he had said, but for affirming what she already sensed and knew. “You're a kind and special man, Anthony. I can only wish I had come to know you better. Perhaps in another life?"

  “I would like that,” he replied earnestly.

  “Captain Jarman, we're ready,” Ann-Marie softly announced. Anthony nodded towards his nurse and turned his attention back to Chavez. “Since we're still waiting for Tanya to bring us the flowers, is there anything else?"

  “Yes,” she said as she raised her hand to two chains around her neck. “Vigo, dear friend, could you help me with this? I want to give these old trinkets of mine to Anthony."

  Vigo stepped around to the other side of the bed and removed the two chains. One held a small Victorian-style locket and the other a platinum colored disk engraved with two columns with three symbols each, exactly like that one that hung from Vigo's own neck, hidden behind his tunic.

  “Gosh, these are treasured family heirlooms. Are you sure they wouldn't be more appreciated by a member of your own family?"

  “Anthony, shut up and tee off!” Anthony shook his head and chuckled. Even right up to the end, Connie Chavez was tough, spirited and determined to meet death on her own terms.

  She turned her head towards Vigo. “Please be a dear and put these in his pocket for me, so that I can rest easily.” Vigo smiled and did as she asked.

  As he slipped the locket and the medallion into Anthony's breast pocket, Chavez said, “The locket belonged to my mother and to her mother before that. When you find your true love, Anthony, the woman with whom you intend to share rest of your life, please give this to her. The other is a simple, sentimental old bauble that old ladies like me like to collect. That
is for you to remember me, and how I now cherish you for the kindness you will shortly bestow upon me. Do with it as you may."

  “I will cherish them,” he answered softly.

  “I've got your roses, Senator, and they are magnificent.” Tanya announced as she entered the room holding a dozen freshly picked roses wrapped in pink tissue and rested them gently on the bed next to Chavez's head.

  Chavez turned her head to one side and drew a deep breath through her nose. The scent of the roses brought a loving smile to her lips.

  “Your gardener, Pedro helped me. Apparently, you could not chase him away. You know, he cried like a baby as he prepared this bouquet. He loves you so much."

  Chavez's face became grim. “Oh honey, I sent him to a hospital because he started showing possible symptoms of the Three Gorges flu. I'm very upset that he didn't go. I'm worried for you dear."

  “I wouldn't worry. There wasn't much light in the hothouse, but he wasn't coughing,” Tanya answered. “But he did reek a bit from some sweet-smelling Tequila."

  “Uh-oh,” Vigo blurted out. “Tequila does not smell sweet."

  “Unless he's mixing it with cough syrup,” Ann-Marie added, “which would explain why he wasn't coughing. The codeine in the syrup suppresses the central nervous system and calms the coughing."

  Tanya's face turned pale white. She staggered backwards against the wall. “How could I have been so blind,” she cried out. “Oh my God!"

  Anthony's demeanor snapped in an instant. In a clear, controlled command voice, he began issuing snap orders. “Ann-Marie, I want you to take Tanya to a guest bedroom with a shower and get to work. Vigo, there is a decontamination kit and two HAZMAT suits on the chopper. You and the security chief need to put these suits on. Find and isolate the gardener. Before you do, bring the decontamination kit back here to Ann-Marie. I can handle the rest from here by myself. Ann-Marie, after you've finished the emergency procedures, we're outta here. Now get going, people! Start working the problem!"