by Siegel, Alex
The monk looked up at him. "You don't understand."
"Yes, I do. I chased the Antichrist for years. That quest was everything to me. Over two hundred good men lost their lives before it was over. And I was successful, too. I had my gun pointed at his skull."
"Did you shoot?"
"No," Norbert said. "I opened my eyes and saw the truth instead. I had made a terrible mistake. There was no reason for all that bloodshed."
"But we have proof!" the monk said.
"A few numerical coincidences are not proof. Garbage you find on the internet isn't proof. For God's sake, wake up! There are women and children here. Can't you see what you're doing to them?"
Norbert couldn't take it anymore. He stormed out of the home and took a deep breath of fresh air.
Tawni joined him outside. "Nice speech."
"Thanks." His blood was pounding in his temples.
"Do you think it will do any good?"
"Very little." He sighed. "I'll call Aaron and find out what our next assignment is."
Chapter Six
Smythe knocked on the front door of a white brick house. While he waited for an answer, he looked around for signs of trouble. It was a poor neighborhood in the south-west corner of Chicago. A few apartment buildings were mixed into a sea of small, single-story homes. The lots were so narrow there was hardly enough room to walk between the buildings.
The door opened a few inches. A woman with curly, blonde hair and very fair skin peered out through the crack. She was wearing a modest beige dress that went down to her ankles.
"Can I help you?" she said.
Smythe smiled. "We want to join Pure America. We were told you might be able to help us. You're some kind of local representative."
"Yes! Come in. I'm Julie."
She opened the door all the way and stepped back. Smythe and Sheryl walked into the little house. The front room was barely large enough for a couch, a coffee table, and a television. The place was clean at least. He didn't see any dust in the corners or stains on the coffee table. Clear plastic covered the couch.
"I'm Tom," Smythe said, "and this is my beautiful wife, Jessica."
"Nice to meet you both," Julie said. "I love your red hair. You must have Nordic ancestry."
"I probably do. Pure America?" He raised his eyebrows.
She hurried off. She returned a moment later with a short stack of white pamphlets. She gave several copies to both Smythe and Sheryl as if they needed more than one.
He looked at the material. He knew what to expect but it still shocked him. The pamphlet stated that all "foreigners" should be deported immediately. Furthermore, only specific kinds of white people should be citizens. Viking ancestry was the best. Pure America wanted everybody else to become slaves in effect.
Smythe fought the urge to become violent. He didn't trust himself to speak.
Sheryl smiled convincingly. The more he worked with her, the more her acting skills impressed him.
"This is very interesting," she said. "Tell me more."
"The human race is divided into ethnic pools," Julie said. "Some pools include natural leadership genes, and some don't. The leaders should make all the decisions. It's what they were born for."
"Are Tom and I in a leadership pool?"
"Probably. You look right. We'll have to check your genealogy, of course. All members of Pure America are required to submit a family tree for review."
Sheryl nodded. "Makes sense." There wasn't even a hint of irony in her voice.
"The people in the other pools need to obey the decisions. They're not qualified to think for themselves. They're instinctive followers. Nothing wrong with that. They're just different from us."
"Like black people?"
"Exactly." Julie nodded. "Negros, Indians, Spics, Jews, Asians. This neighborhood is overrun with the lesser ethnic pools."
"Why do you live here?"
"It was cheap."
"I guess we all have to make compromises," Sheryl said. "You must have strong feelings about President Haley."
"He's the worst thing that ever happened to this great nation. An abomination. Just hearing his name makes my blood boil. The minorities voted for him, of course. That's a good example of why we need to take away their privileges. When this country was founded, only white males who owned property were allowed to vote. I don't know why we ever changed that rule."
Smythe decided not to mention Julie wasn't a male.
"You're absolutely right," Sheryl said. "I wish we could do something about Haley. Just voting that bastard out of office isn't enough. Besides, the election is months away. We need to take action now."
Julie smiled. "Actually, we are doing something."
She suddenly had all of Smythe's attention.
"Oh?" Sheryl said.
"I shouldn't talk about that." Julie shook her head. "Hey, Pure America is having a barbecue today. The top brass will be there. I'm pretty sure I can get you an invitation. It's at a farm near Bolingbrook."
"That sounds great. We'd love to come!"
"I'll call ahead and make sure it's OK. Tom and Jessica, right? What's your last name?"
"Sonder," Smythe said.
He gave Julie a phone number so she could reach him. The special number was attached to his cover identity, but it routed to his real phone in an untraceable way.
"And write down the address of the party, please," he added. "We don't want to end up in the wrong place."
She found a pen and wrote the information on one of the pamphlets. "I'll see you there."
"I can't wait," Sheryl said. "We'll put on our Sunday best."
She and Smythe walked out of the house.
As soon as they were a good distance away, he said, "I have a feeling about this one."
"Yeah. Julie wasn't a flake like the others. Pure America might be organized enough to be dangerous. Are you going to call it in?"
He took out his phone and dialed Aaron's number.
The commander answered immediately, "Report."
"Pure America is a promising lead," Smythe said. "We were invited to a barbecue this afternoon."
"Be there. In the meantime, the legate wants you to meet the President. Sheryl can come, too."
Smythe was startled. "Why, sir?"
"Some kind of medical issue," Aaron said. "While you're there, you might as well tell us about Pure America if you really think they're a legitimate threat."
"My skin is still crawling."
"I trust your instincts. The President is attending a fund raising event at the Field Museum. Wear nice clothes. I'll meet you there."
"Yes, sir." Smythe said. He closed his phone and turned to Sheryl. "Guess what? You get to dress up and meet the President."
She grinned wide enough to have dimples.
* * *
Kamal pondered the device sitting on the workbench in his science laboratory. Superconducting coils were submerged in a pool of liquid nitrogen. A ring of lasers were aimed at a common point above the coils. A cage made of silver wire surrounded the device. The power supply had "HIGH VOLTAGE" signs all over it.
He had no idea what it was for. He had built it according to the twins' very precise specifications. According to his understanding of science, the device wouldn't do anything except suck up a lot of power and make a pretty light show.
Bethany and Leanna walked into the laboratory. As always, they wore white shirts, red skirts, and no shoes. Their arms and legs swung in perfect synchrony. Kamal wondered if that was intentional or just reflexive. The bright lights in the laboratory made their metal skulls gleam. Patterns of gray swirls looked like smoke.
"Is it done?" Bethany said.
"I think so," Kamal said. "I followed your instructions to the best of my ability. What does it do?"
"It's a super-stabilized plasma bottle."
"Oh." He had a vague idea of what she meant.
"You'll want to close your eyes when we turn it on."
"How hot will
the plasma get?"
"The theoretical limit of this design is around one billion degrees," she said, "but for safety reasons, we'll only attempt ten million degrees today."
A billion degrees, Kamal thought. That was much hotter than the core of the sun. Heavy elements would fuse at that temperature.
Leanna made adjustments to the electronic controls, while Bethany examined the device for defects.
"How does it work?" Kamal said.
"It's based on the principle of constructed symmetry," Bethany said.
"I've never heard of it. Could you explain that principle to me?"
"That's privileged information."
"You mean God doesn't want me to know?" he said. "But I'm a member of the Society."
"We don't make the rules," she said. "Our project was granted special access to knowledge that is normally forbidden to everybody. Cover your eyes now."
Bethany and Leanna crouched behind a desk and ducked their heads down. Kamal followed their example.
A blinding white light suddenly filled the room. He tried to squint at the source, but the glow was too bright. He had to look away.
"What are you going to use this for?" he said.
"A fusion power source," Bethany said.
He was getting excited. All the components were commercially available, and he had assembled them by himself. It had taken him just a few hours to build a working fusion reactor. Other people could easily do the same on a larger scale.
"We should share this technology with the world," Kamal said. "It could solve humanity's energy problems. We wouldn't need fossil fuels anymore. We could stop global warming."
"No," Bethany said.
"Because it's forbidden?"
"God has a plan for humanity which doesn't include this very dangerous technology."
He clenched his jaw in frustration. "Technology isn't inherently good or evil. It just depends on how it's used. This invention could make the world a better place. It's our responsibility to share the discovery."
"No. Special access was granted to Leanna and me only. It's bad enough you saw the design, but at least you don't know how it works."
The bright light stopped. Everybody stood up and walked over to the device. Most of the liquid nitrogen had boiled away, but otherwise, it appeared undamaged.
"The experiment was successful," Bethany announced in her synthetic voice. It always made Kamal think of a pipe organ.
She and Leanna walked out of the laboratory.
He was left staring at the fusion reactor. This was a monumental invention as important as the steam engine and the computer. He couldn't keep it hidden. That was unfair to the entire human race. The twins were just too rigid to see the truth.
* * *
President Haley was standing in the main hall of the Field Museum in downtown Chicago. The voices of hundreds of people echoed between the gray and white marble floor and the high roof. Sunlight poured in through a grid of square skylights. Classical, white pillars and arches all around created the impression of being inside a Greek temple.
A stuffed elephant stood in the center of the hall, but the crowd was more interested in the bones of the dinosaur known as "Sue." She was the most complete Tyrannosaurus Rex on display in the world. Doorways on both sides of the hall led to other exhibits in the huge museum. Haley doubted he would get a chance to see them.
A swirling cloud of people surrounded him. A protective ring of Secret Service agents in black suits was keeping most of them at bay. Politicians and other members of the Democratic Party were maneuvering to be seen with Haley. He was more interested in rubbing elbows with the rich donors in attendance. Money was the life-blood of politics.
Ethel and Boreas stood by a column off to the side. Haley had noticed "Miss Pickenpaugh" seemed uncomfortable in social settings. She rarely talked when there were more than a few people in the room.
George Seferis also lingered nearby, and he was keeping an eye on Ethel. His personal obsession with her was starting to annoy Haley. The Director of the Secret Service had much better ways to spend his time. At a minimum, he should've assigned somebody to watch Ethel instead of doing it himself.
Haley noticed another Secret Service agent approaching. It was the big man with brown hair who had come with Ethel at the first meeting. She had identified him as Aaron.
Two other people in formal attire were with him. The first was another large, very muscular man, but his hair was red. His square jaw and blue eyes gave him the appearance of a comic book hero. The other newcomer was a slender woman with long, brown hair. Her red dress and red shoes were too bold for this occasion in Haley's opinion. She apparently liked being the center of attention.
Ethel rushed forward to intercept her people. They spoke to each other briefly. Body language made it clear who was the boss. It was funny how even the big men seemed smaller in Ethel's presence.
The whole group walked over to Haley. Seferis pushed through the crowd to be part of whatever was happening.
"What's up?" Haley said.
The man with red hair responded, "It's a great honor to meet you, sir. I served in the Army for a number of years. I never thought I'd meet my Commander in Chief."
"The honor is mine, I'm sure. Who are you, and why are you here?"
"We work for him." The man nodded towards Aaron. "We've been investigating threats against your life. We already checked out a good number of them."
"I appreciate that. Any leads?"
"Yes, sir." The man took a stack of white pamphlets from his pocket and handed them out to the whole group. "We suspect these people are dangerous. We're meeting them for a barbecue at three o'clock today."
Haley read the pamphlet and became angry after just the first line. Clearly, Pure America was dedicated to spewing the vilest racism imaginable. They weren't even politically correct about it. The pamphlet used ethnic slurs freely. It twisted the language of science into nonsensical arguments. Here was primitive tribalism in its most corrosive form.
Haley looked over at Ethel who was also reading. Her face was a mask of calm, but the darkness that always clung to her skin had become more apparent. Her whole body was vibrating. Her subordinates stepped away from her, even her bodyguard.
"The Secret Service needs to participate in this investigation," Seferis said. "If there is a threat against the President, it's our job to check it out." He shook the pamphlet in his hand to emphasize the point.
"No," Ethel said.
He glared at her. "That's not your decision to make."
"My people work independently. Your goons would just get in the way."
"My goons?" Seferis turned to Haley. "Sir, what's your opinion."
"Leave her people alone," Haley said. "They seem to know what they're doing."
"And I don't?"
"You're the best, George. No question. I just don't want your agents getting into a turf war with her. They might come out on the wrong end of that fight."
"I'm not afraid of Miss Pickenpaugh and her gang," Seferis said.
The statement was a weak boast. Haley could see the intimidation in his posture.
"Your boss is a very wise and thoughtful man," Ethel said. "You should listen to him. We have something else to discuss."
The man with red hair nodded. "Yes, ma'am. I was told you have a heart condition, Mr. President."
"Coronary atherosclerosis," Haley said.
"That needs to be dealt with sooner rather than later."
"I've been busy."
The man smiled. "I can imagine, sir. I'm a doctor. If we could find someplace private, I'd like to give you an examination."
"I've seen lots of doctors," Haley said. "I don't need another one telling me I have a serious problem."
Ethel put a hand on his shoulder. "Roy, my friend isn't just another doctor. He is quite extraordinary. Let's find a secluded place where he can work."
The tone in her voice put him on edge. This wouldn't be a regular examination. He lo
oked at her subordinates, and all of them had serious expressions. They knew the secret, too.
He looked at her. "What are you going to do to me?"
"Something good," she said.
Haley had to make a huge decision, and it came down to a question of trust. Was Ethel truly his friend? So far, she had done nothing to convince him otherwise.
His feelings were clear even if his mind was still confused. "OK. Let's go."
"Great." She looked around and pointed. "Over there."
Seferis stepped in front of her. "No! I will not let you just walk off with the President."
"George," Haley said.
"Sir, this is insane. Anything could happen to you. You could die."
"I won't change my mind. You know I never back down from anything. Besides, for some reason I feel safe with her." Haley smiled at Ethel. "Very."
Seferis remained in front of her with his arms crossed.
Haley realized he would have to take the initiative to break this stalemate. He just started walking. When the Secret Service tried to stay with him, he waved them back. Seferis was left looking foolish and impotent.
Haley moved quickly despite his weak heart. Ethel and her crew formed a ring around him. The men used their big bodies to push the startled crowd aside.
They went through a door marked "STAFF ONLY" and entered a white hallway. A few museum workers looked at Haley with shocked expressions.
Ethel glanced back. "Pick him up so we can move faster."
Boreas scooped up Haley in his thick arms. The whole group broke into a run at once.
Haley couldn't remember the last time anybody had carried him. The experience was so surprising he didn't even complain. Boreas didn't seem to have trouble with the weight. The man was built like a bulldozer.
Ethel led the way as her team flew through the back corridors of the museum. They found a stairway down and entered a basement.
Eventually, they entered a dimly lit storage room in a back corner. Dusty, wooden crates were stacked in uneven piles. A stuffed lion was frozen in the middle of a roar. A cracked glass case contained hundreds of different kinds of coins.
Boreas placed Haley on top of a long crate as if it were an operating table.
