“Geogyn. I underestimated you,” Nelson said with disdain. “You used the strategy we trained you with to get in here!”
“Well, I guess you could say that,” Geogyn said, masking a slight grin. “Although, most wouldn’t.”
“Pinnet said you went rogue,” Nelson revealed he knew about the happenings that transpired in Nicaragua. “Well, you can’t kill me without an army descending on you. After the Mamudahr assassination attempt, I had a monitor implanted in my heart to record erratic beats, and trust me, there’s a team coming as we speak.”
Geogyn smiled, and said, “I’m not going to kill you, Nelson. Your damage has already been done. Killing you would serve no purpose.”
Once Nelson heard this, he made a move towards the escape door. Geogyn kept the gun on him, and that halted him. He thought if Geogyn wasn’t going to kill him, then why was he still aiming a gun at him? He slowly raised his hands and gave Geogyn a sympathetic look.
“But erasing you would fix a lot of wicked darkness,” Geogyn said with a judgmental tone.
Just as he said those prophetic words, the front door burst open with a crew of highly trained Secret Service men. They leveled their guns and rifles at Geogyn. Before they were settled, Geogyn fired at Nelson.
He heard the thunderclap of the gun, as he hit Nelson. Then one of the strangest occurrences immediately followed.
His mind stopped his perception of time. It began to revert. Certain things that had happened were moving in reverse. Geogyn witnessed the events in his mind.
Everything was moving quickly backward. Nelson entering the room, driving from the White House, and getting up that morning.
Then, more important events showed. The war, the Superquake, lascivious atrocities put on his wife, and the election he fixed. Time continued reversing until before his infancy.
Then the events stopped. A new set of events started, slowly at first. Then they began to pick up speed. Nelson wasn’t the center of these happenings anymore. Senator Sydney Logan, Nelson's former opponent, was.
It started with the passing of a historical environmental bill to stop the use of fossil fuels, the retooling of oil drilling platforms to clean water mining facilities and oil refineries to wind power harnessing plants.
The auto industry switched to water, and electric powered vehicles, exclusively. The economy flourished, and citizens got prompt aid in the Superquake disaster. One of the best things that happened in this time, there was no war.
Things began to slow down again as he got closer to the present. He was still in the preparation room. It just wasn't Nelson's anymore. He was never born. Logan stood in his place.
Before Geogyn got back to regular time, he turned his gear back on and became transparent. The time crept back to normal.
He was standing, camouflaged, in front of President Sydney Logan. There was no Secret Service with firearms pointed at him. It was just Logan preparing for his State of the Union Address. Geogyn was going to slip out the escape door when Logan left for his address, but it wasn’t there. Since Nelson hadn’t existed, there was no reason for an escape route. The structure of the building changed back to before he had augmented it.
By that revelation, he knew those members of Ghost Alpha were alive. At least they didn’t die on a mission with him.
Since there was no war, thousands of people weren’t killed. Hopefully, most would live to old age. Geogyn started to feel lighter. More airy, in an ethereal aura. Things had definitely changed.
President Logan walked to the door and psyched himself for his speech.
“All right, you got this,” he whispered to himself. “You're the first environmental president to actually make a difference. Your approval rating is through the roof. They're gonna love what you have to say.”
He opened the door and walked to the podium when the House Speaker announced him. As he emerged, the House roared in applause.
The ovation lasted ten minutes. When the acknowledgment died down, he began to speak.
“You have made this an incredible place to live,” he started. “Because of you, our economy is thriving, unemployment is at an all-time low, and we’re not slaves to the gas stations, because they don’t exist anymore. I, deeply, thank you.”
Another explosion of applause erupted again. Happiness was impregnated in everyone.
That distraction was Geogyn’s cue for exfiltration of the establishment.
He slipped out during the speech. He made his way past Secret Service, security, and police. He bounded on rooftops until he got to Rock Creek Park.
He had a strange wave of feeling better, as he piloted his helicopter back to base. For the first time, he truly felt as if he was saving the planet.
Chapter Eleven: Leviticus 25:24
The first erasure was complete. Geogyn was different. Once the task was done, his apprehension vanished. At one time, he believed erasing innocent people would’ve been abhorring. When it happened, he understood these people weren’t innocent. Every one of them contributed to the mutilation of the planet. Every person he judged had a reason to be targeted, so erasure became easier for him.
The next target he had wasn’t given to him. Being the Horseman was the title that inherently embedded guidance within him. His quest, as well as his targets, were very clear to him.
The owner of Raven Chemical was next. His company soaked rain forests with nuclear waste, making the area’s ecosystem uninhabitable. Many animals indigenous to that forest became extinct. From insects to greater creatures which helped the forest thrive, by transporting seedlings and being part of the food chain. Raven Chemical was instrumental in breaking that chain. Geogyn erased the owner, and all the Chief Executive Officers to reattach the link.
The next was Juarez Chino. The kingpin drug dealer who supplied every nation’s crime syndicates with the drug Gripz. Twice as deadly as cocaine, twenty-four times as addictive as heroin, and easier to attain than any opiate. It was the new designer drug. It slowly fused your brain cells into one useless clump, while giving you the illusion of euphoria equal to a consistent orgasm in a hallucinogenic state. The feeling lasted for hours. When the drug wore off, the withdrawal was the sense of having a constant cardiac arrest. Some who tried to get off the drug had terminal consequences. Their mind believed their bodies were having a heart attack and flooded the body with adrenaline, actually overdosing. It was a painful death.
Juarez was getting obscenely rich off of everyone’s pain. He didn't care who was hooked or killed by his deadly drug. Many people who were candidates for the Utopia Project, teachers and scholars, were strung out on Gripz thinking it improved your mood for better performance. That certain obstacle slowed progress dramatically.
He was having one of his decadent private parties at his compound when Geogyn found him. Twelve teenaged women, cavorting with him and each other. Hopped up on Gripz, in the nude. It was the epitome of immoral, sexual descent. Those ‘women’ were fourteen-year-old girls.
Knowing most of them wouldn’t live to full maturity influenced Juarez‘s fate. Geogyn smiled for the first time in his quest as he erased Juarez. Geogyn knew Juarez was this generation’s antichrist. He had destroyed many promising lives with Gripz, and didn’t care. His tyranny had to be alleviated. Geogyn did more than alleviate, he eradicated its existence.
After seeing the atrocities of a controlled substance, Geogyn went on a crusade to obliterate the cores of each drug. Once Earth was rid of the viciously wicked providers of these life-altering gremlins, violence and crime subsided amazingly. He left marijuana alone because it actually helped many.
It was slow but steadily driven. The planet was getting better. The incredible aspect Geogyn witnessed was if you never had these vile influences staining the human condition, Earth would be the Utopia many wished for. Free will didn’t corrupt people. Tyranny, deceit and the power to control the masses with fear or damaging influence did. The facts materialized to him he wasn’t meant to obliterate nearly sev
en billion people, he was designed to correct the society. He was the gardener. His job was to maintain beauty, by pruning, and pulling the weeds. The Ruger was the holy pesticide. He deemed it The Rectifier. He continued his maintenance by cleaning the rampant weeds that thrived in the ghettos of cities. He started by cutting them out at the roots by erasing the major international cartels.. The leaders of all organized crime, no matter what nationality, were erased first. They supplied the poison. It turned out crime fed the ghettos. Once they were starved of their vital sustenance, they perished quickly. People didn’t inherently accept crime as a tool for survival. Again, once the influence was gone, people found other ways of living. One of the major differences was the common trait of being selfish became inert.
The human race reverted back to the traits of their hunting and gathering ancestors. It started in small pockets and grew quickly. The community became more important than individual decadence. Everyone began helping the less fortunate. The cities got better, less dangerous. When an individual or gang started adverse situations, the community stepped forward to halt them. The new campaign for cities, worldwide, was called, NIMT. It stood for Not in My Town. All the communities administered this movement with fervor and gusto.
Geogyn began to see the shift of the planet’s situation. Not only was the use of fossil fuels becoming obsolete, the human condition forged closer to Utopia. The inhabitants were becoming more felicitous, and the carbon footprints that trampled the Earth were becoming non-existent.
This took several years. The progress was slow to Geogyn, but its surety was certain. He became the savior instead of the reaper in his eyes. His task was nearing completion. General Oswalt and the Lord Order were also working relentlessly to complete Utopia. The household cleansing and individual extrications were moving smoothly.
The extricated were teaching the ones old enough to comprehend. The infants were being taken care of and loved by the teachers. They knew what they were to do. Train the innocent, and show them the correct way to live. A world without adverse doom was emerging. Utopia was becoming a reality.
As positive and superb as a plan could be, the poison of melancholic chaos injects itself every time.
Geogyn was returning back to base after erasing a greedy landowner who left people homeless because they couldn’t afford the living conditions of his suburban sites. He landed Thunder Mare and went to report to Val-Koorin.
He was surveying the troops of Lord Order. He looked distraught.
Whatever the problem is, I believe Oswalt will whip them into shape, is what Geogyn thought about Val-Koorin's appearance. The erasure of Vasili Turnek should grant him some solace.
“Mission complete,” Geogyn said to Val-Koorin with a jovial air about him. “Vasili Turnek doesn’t exist anymore.”
Val-Koorin kept his gaze fixed on the troops preparing for another extrication. He didn’t acknowledge Geogyn by looking his way. He also didn’t seem fazed by Geogyn’s affirmative report. He had no nose or mouth, but you could still see grave concern washed over his face.
“All this progress. All the extrications, the educating, the erasures. The quest for Utopia will be for naught,” he began, still surveying the troops. Still lost in despair. “We’ve run into a cataclysmic conflict in which, even I couldn’t have foreseen.”
Geogyn stepped back. He knew if God couldn't have predicted it, the planet was in devastating distress.
Val-Koorin answered his worried, inquiring thought.
“This planet will be a poisoned, lifeless rock in three years,” Val-Koorin revealed his shocking concern to Geogyn.
Geogyn remained silent, as he let the information sink in. Chaos was well on its way to sinking in deeply.
Chapter Twelve: Jeremiah 46:3
Ron was in a quandary. He didn’t know if his efforts to accelerate the Prototype Project held any validity any more. It was three years since the Nicaraguan incident, and no one came after him, or even Owen, for that matter. There weren’t any remnants of Armageddon. The Earth had no impending doom shrouding it. The culprits of the tragedy were long gone. Global warming, war, homelessness, starvation, and crime never existed at this time. The planet had pulled itself together and became unified. Ron was almost out of a job.
The United States didn't need a military anymore. There was no enemy to protect it from. Each community implemented the NIMT initiative in their respective areas.
I knew there would be no Armageddon, Ron thought about Geogyn’s warning. This world doesn‘t have its prior demons. No war, crime, or famine. No rampant drug use. There’s not even a threat of a pandemic. That cult has no reason to believe the Earth is ‘broken’. Maybe it was that way in the past, but now, everyone’s acting with responsibility. It might be plausible they see this moral shift also. They may have called off Geo, and all their radical zealotry.
Ron was optimistic for an instant. For that second, his constant fear of being hunted by Geogyn Kai was lifted. It was pleasant to have that weight off his mind. That was when his mind detected the euphoric state he was in and corrected it by slapping him harshly with a reality check.
That’s because every religious cult are slaves to ethereal sense, Ron, he thought sarcastically. That's why they are cults in the first place.
The weight that was released from his mind was re-applied directly. It was what had kept him in his position, and alive for this long. When you know you are being hunted by the most devastating force known by any division, paranoid caution can prolong your existence a bit longer. Optimism gets you killed. Ron didn't believe in dying with a smile on his face. He would rather be jaded, but alive.
“Ron, its Chet,” a voice, surprisingly, jarred him from his foreboding contemplation by assaulting the silence of his office, emitting from the intercom at his desk. “Could you, please, come down to Sub Sixteen? I think I have an audacious equalizer to our problem.”
Ron hadn’t heard from Chet for six months. He knew he was deep into the development of his prototypes. He also knew how Chet worked. That was why he left him alone. Inquiries would just muddle the progress of a genius. He didn’t want to taint the art. He hoped his non-involvement was the key to perfection.
Perking up slightly in anticipation, Ron replied, “Gimme a minute, Chet--on my way.”
Ron clicked off communications with Chet. He clicked to his secretary.
“Yes, Mister Pinnet?” his secretary answered his page.
“Get me Agent Berry, Emma,” Ron relayed his request.
“Agent Berry is not in today, Mister Pinnet,” Emma answered. “I will attempt to contact him by phone, Sir.”
Ron knew Owen loved his days off. Although Wednesday was a peculiar day to have off, he had to respect his recreational time.
“No, Emma, don’t bother him,” Ron told his secretary. “I’ll text him myself. If he wants to come in, it’ll be his choice.”
“Yes, Mister Pinnet,” Emma relayed over the intercom.
Ron stood up from behind his desk and began walking with a bit of haste to sub-level sixteen. He pulled out his cell and began texting Owen.
Chet’s gotta bot ready, the text said.
Ron was expecting a call from Owen momentarily as he made his way to the elevator.
He knew the network the government used was state of the art. He knew the cell phone towers had Parasitic technology. They were able to use anything with a metal property as a transmitter. Cars, buildings, elevators, even the metal that holds the erasers of wooden pencils. You couldn’t get away with the ‘dropped call’ excuse when you were mobilized. Being a government employee also meant you had to carry your phone with you at all times.
Even battery power was solved. The Communication Division invented a perpetual power source for the phones. It used similar Parasitic technology. It collected ions from the environment. It fed off anything electronic, including a human. As long as you were alive, it was alive.
With knowing all that, Ron was concerned when he didn’t g
et a call back from Owen in the elevator.
There better be an extraordinary circumstance why he hasn’t called me back, Ron thought as he walked through the doors to the arena.
As Ron walked in, he saw a daunting behemoth standing in the middle of the arena. It stood about sixteen feet tall. It had an eerie black, lavender, and metallic sheen. It had a humanoid/battle tank form, with stinger missiles attached to its upper arms. The knees were inverted like a flamingo, but the feet were large, stable bases. It had no neck. The head was built into the shoulders, and heavily armored.
“It’s an MCRD-52,” Ron heard Chet from behind him, as he marveled at its presence.
Ron pointed up at it, and turned to Chet. “You gave your prototype a name?”
“The word prototype means a model on which something is based or formed,” Chet began. “Trust me, Ron, this is the finished product.”
“How do you know this thing can stop Geogyn?” Ron asked, with skepticism in his voice.
“BECAUSE I KNOW HOW TO STOP HIM, RON,” a large, guttural, metallic voice boomed across the arena. It came from the MCRD-52.
“That thing is sentient?!” Ron asked, startled.
Chet put his arm around Ron, began to walk upstairs, and directed him towards the control area. “Let’s get to Observation Central, and I’ll explain the particulars.”
Ron walked with Chet up to the control area. He kept looking back at the MCRD-52.
“MCRD-52 stands for the Mind Controlled Robotic Destroyer. It was the fifty-second attempt,” Chet explained.
Ron was confused by the explanation. “So, if it’s not sentient, who’s controlling it?”
“I believe actions will speak louder than explanations this time,” Chet said as they reached the control area.
Chet walked over to a panel and clicked a button. “You ready?”
A voice responded from the panel. “BRING IT ON, CHET. LET'S SHOW RON, EXACTLY WHAT WE MEAN.”
The Final Option Page 8
