Black Jack

by Rani Manicka

  ‘You interfered?’ he whispered. He owed Green a debt that he could never repay.

  ‘I did.’

  ‘Why did you risk getting stuck in the lying matrix? I’m losing the game, anyway.’

  ‘Take my hand and I’ll show you why.’

  There will be, in the next generation or so, a pharmacological method of making people love their servitude, and producing dictatorship without tears, so to speak, producing a kind of painless concentration camp for entire societies, so that people will in fact have their liberties taken away from them, but will rather enjoy it.

  - Aldous Huxley

  ‘Where are we?’ Black asked, throwing his head back to look at the tree trunks soaring up, straight and tall toward the skies all around him. The ground was thick with undergrowth and there was only a dying light left to the day, but the air was still hot and humid, and filled with the clamor of insects and birds. He heard the sound of running water nearby.

  ‘In a Malaysian rainforest.’

  ‘What are we doing here?’

  ‘We came to see him,’ said Green, pointing to a flying mosquito. The mosquito froze in mid flight.

  Black went closer. There was a bubble around the mosquito. Up close, the insect was intricately built with compound eyes, a feathery antenna, a diamond-shaped thorax, and beautiful white markings on his slender legs. ‘What’s so special about him?’

  Green came to stand next to Black. ‘He is a transgenic mosquito, released to combat dengue fever. The farthest he will fly is two hundred yards, and being male he will never attempt to consume the blood of a single living creature, but he is created in the hope that during his lifetime, which can be measured in days, he will mate with a wild female mosquito and cause her to produce defective offspring, which they believe will, if not eradicate the disease eventually, then at least contain it. Millions like him are being released in other parts of the world with the same intention. The next planned project will tackle malaria.’

  Fascinated by the mosquito’s stillness, Black gazed at it in wonder. He wished he could see the world through Green’s eyes again. What would this little creature look like? Breathtaking slices of condensed light and stunning color? But he had only his own limited five senses and feeble mind. ‘A good thing, surely. Malaria kills millions, mostly children,’ he said, repeating what he had gleaned from the TV.

  ‘Remember this, Black - bacterial DNA always becomes part of the host’s DNA, but don’t draw any conclusions just yet. We are playing connect the dots.’ He extended a long, slender finger and touched the bubble. It broke and the mosquito sailed away. He turned to Black with his hand outstretched. ‘Next dot awaits.’

  Suddenly they were standing in a remote, snow-covered tundra. An icy wind blew across the desolate wilderness.

  ‘We are in polar bear country, thirteen hundred kilometers from the North Pole, on the island of Spitsbergen.’

  There was no sign of life that Black could see, and the only sign of civilization was an imposing concrete structure that jutted out of the mountainside. They were, in fact, standing on a road that led up to it. A pair of solid steel doors formed its entrance.

  ‘That,’ Green continued, pointing to the tall doors, ‘is the sole entrance to what some call the doomsday vault. Built deep into the mountain it has been designed to withstand the melting of the ice caps, earthquakes, and even nuclear strikes. It is unstaffed but monitored around the clock and formidably protected by blast doors at the entrance, a second door approximately a hundred and fifteen meters down, then finally two keyed, air-locked doors.’

  ‘What are they so fiercely protecting?’

  ‘Seeds. The Svalbard Global Seed Vault stores samples of three-quarters of the world’s seeds.’

  ‘Why? Are they expecting a doomsday scenario?’

  ‘Not that I know of, but here’s a little coincidence for you to consider. Building started in 1984, a year after the first genetically modified seeds were created.’

  ‘There’s that word again - genetically modified.’

  ‘Good. Let’s go,’ Green said and held out his hand.

  Black found himself seated next to Green inside an airplane.

  ‘First class view of the American skies,’ said Green.

  And indeed the seats were wide and plush. There was only one other passenger and he seemed to be fast asleep in his tracksuit. From behind a curtained cubicle, Black could hear ice clinking.

  ‘Air hostess preparing drinks,’ explained Green.

  Black looked out of the window.

  ‘See that whitish line.’

  Black noticed that the sky above the line was bluer than the sky underneath it. ‘Yes; I see it. What is it?’

  ‘That is the geo-engineering spray line. The official stated reason for the chemical releases is to ameliorate global warming. The truth is a different matter. Aerosol cause global dimming, which translates to twenty percent less sunlight getting through to the planet. However, the white haze is a highly advanced smart dust composed of metallic oxides, synthetic fibers and engineered biologicals. These nanoparticles bloom and spread out over great areas and shred the ozone layer, which allows more of the sun’s thermal energy to penetrate, which in actuality causes global warming. CFCs and carbon emissions are negligible factors.’

  ‘Why are they doing this, then?’

  ‘The answer is in the smart dust. The engineered biologicals are mostly desiccated human red blood cells that have been engineered in such a way that they exactly mirror the life form, but resist destruction and can self-replicate outside the human body. The other biologicals are pathogens that have been altered and cloaked so that the human immune system will not recognize them as foreign. The bacteria and viruses go to work altering the cellular DNA of a living organism slowly. If the host gets ill, the virus or bacteria will be wiped out by the body’s immune system, but after the illness is eliminated, the altered cells remain and continue to reproduce. The changes can be so subtle that the body continues to operate as previous, or so the victim thinks.

  ‘The other enemy lurking in the dust are the nanofibers designed to endure almost anything - extreme temperatures, chemicals, acid, bleach. They integrate themselves into the very cells of the living organism and create new processes that will override its natural system, then artificially and exactly mirror the ones they have overtaken.

  ‘The last piece to this jigsaw puzzle are the metallic oxides. They are there for many reasons but the two most important are these. They contain aluminum and barium. The aluminum when it is washed down to the Earth causes a slow, silent death to plants and trees that will require more genetically modified plants and trees.’

  ‘But I watched a program on the National Geographic channel about the minerals. Doesn’t aluminum occur naturally in the Earth’s crust, anyway?’

  ‘It does, but never as a bio-available particle blowing in the wind. It is always bonded to other elements and thus unable to leech into other living organisms and damage their DNA. These metallic oxides have also made both the air and the human body more conductive. The vastly increased electrical biofield provides the DC current to activate these synthetic organisms to self-assemble. And electromagnetic frequencies emitted by cellphone towers, HARP, and Gwen greatly increase the vitality with which these forms grow in the human body.’

  Black suddenly remembered a documentary he had watched about a mysterious disease called Morgellons. Sufferers had colorful fibers, plaques, crystals and gel-like objects that looked eerily like worms and insects coming out of lesions on their bodies.

  ‘Morgellons is not a disease, but an unintended effect. The people with Morgellons are those that have bodies whose genetic make-up rejects the technology. Regardless of whether the Morgellons condition is present or not, every living thing on the planet is currently being colonized by these artificial life forms.’

  ‘Why are they doing this?’

  ‘Genetically modified food, tainted inoculations, poisoned
air, and mosquitoes that introduce unwanted viral genetic information into the recipient host are all multi-pronged steps toward singularity.’

  ‘Singularity?’

  ‘Singularity is a point in space time where the rules of physics no longer apply. One interpretation is the arrival of the human plus. Or the rise of the artificial man and the hive.’

  ‘My God. If every human being is already infected, how far are they toward their goal?’

  ‘Not so far. Not by any means. This is their middle phase, but there is another first phase taking place. Let me show you.’

  He held out his hand and Black put his into it.

  They stood not far from a poor dwelling by a forest. It was cold, and the ground was thick with snow. A little boy, dressed in thick country clothes, was playing at the edge of the forest. Black could tell instantly that there was something not quite right about him. He almost had the face of a Down’s syndrome child, but not quite. Black immediately wondered whether this was what they wanted the human race to be. A dumbed-down herd of unquestioning worker bees.

  ‘No, no,’ said Black. ‘This is Yuri. He will remain in his forest home until his early death. He will never lead anyone or build anything of repute, but he is very special.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘He has previously unseen DNA. Earth science has known only one other almost like him. A blind, severely handicapped boy with three strands of DNA. The scientists do their tests but they can’t understand why his junk DNA is switched on or how. Yuri has four strands. You see, despite all their efforts, the powers that shouldn’t be have woefully underestimated the human spirit. It is alive. There are already children born with livers that can process all the chemicals in junk food; children who are immune even after repeated infections with AIDS. Others can pass solid objects through other solid objects using their minds, see through various parts of their bodies, or fill glasses with water by simply looking at them.

  ‘As the super-psychic children in China have demonstrated, the human DNA is a biological Internet - it communicates. Progress is infectious, unstoppable. Just watching a child perform a psychic feat can cause another child to manifest the same phenomena. First one child, then another and another. Until a whole new united human race with godlike powers is born. And the illusion will crumble. The dark hierarchy’s only hope is to capture as many lost souls as possible to drag into their brave new world where there will be no rebellions, no chaos, no waste, no overpopulation; only a mutated transhumant who will serve a master class.’

  ‘What can a boy who has four strands of DNA do?’

  ‘Why don’t you go forward and find out?’

  ‘Will he be able to see me?’

  ‘Of course.’

  Black went closer and the boy spotted him amongst the bushes. His small, round face lit up and he began to laugh with great delight. When Black was very close he suddenly reached out a hand and grasped his arm, but instead of his hand going through Black, Black felt his forearm firmly held by his pudgy little hand. Black gasped. The boy was multidimensional!

  He could operate beyond the third dimension.

  From the dark interior of the house a woman’s voice called out, ‘Yuri come in. You are making so much noise you will frighten the bears.’

  Yuri seemed to find that idea funny beyond belief. His laughter rang out in uproarious peals. ‘Ha ha,’ he laughed, clutching his stomach. ‘Mama is so funny?’ he communicated, but using hand signals. It was a language, ancient and strange, but Black understood him perfectly.

  The boy’s laughter was catching and Black could not help joining him. The laughter came from deep inside him. He had never laughed like that in all his life. It was a wonderful feeling. The more he laughed, the better he felt. He laughed even while he felt ‘things’ beginning to shift inside him. Then the boy’s mother, a large peasant woman, came out of the small house. She stood at the door with her hands on her hips and scolded, ‘Come in here, you little brat.’ Her voice was stern but her eyes were gentle and filled with love.

  The boy ran in clumsily.

  Black looked back at Green. ‘How many strands are activated in me?’

  ‘Six. There many more things you can do, but the most important thing you are doing is simply lying in your bed. Remember when I said that the focus of all those millions will transfer strength to you. Well, every person who watches you, regardless of how they vote, will be internally and invisibly changed by you.’

  ‘Is Dakota one of us?’

  ‘Yes.’

  One can never consent to creep when one feels the impulse to soar.

  - Helen Keller

  The sun was shining and everything looked peaceful, but Dakota knew something was very wrong. She had been over the rainbow for too long. One of the others had taken the body. Perhaps for good. She thought about Black and if he would ever come to see her again. He had promised and yet so long had passed since he had come. She had promised him something too. She moved the sleeping wolf’s head off her stomach on to the ground and sat up amongst the long grasses in the meadow. Shadow raised his head and looked at her enquiringly.

  ‘Sleep,’ she said softly, and he lay on his chin, and watched her with alert eyes. She stood. Immediately the wolf sat up and made to follow her.

  ‘Stay,’ she commanded softly, and he lay back down obediently. ‘Good boy,’ she praised and rubbed his stomach.

  Leaving the meadow she walked slowly toward the mirrors. She was frightened of them, had always been. Mirrors were special things, enchanted things. Another world lived behind them, as Alice in Wonderland had found out when she had gazed into the looking glass. When she reached the place where all the staircases ended in mirrors, she stood for a moment in the sun. For the sun ended where the tiled floor began.

  A little voice in her head warned, Don’t open locked doors. There may be demons behind that will eat you.

  But she squared her shoulders and walked onto the tiles. It was decidedly colder; her hands began to shake. Determined to move forward, she crossed the floor and put her feet on the first step of the staircase.

  Go back, go back, said the voice. Back into the sunshine where it is warm and safe.

  What am I scared of?

  Nothing.

  Well then.

  But the next step made her feel almost dizzy with unexplainable fear. Like a frightened animal she ran back to the sunshine. Trembling with fear she stood looking at the imposing jumble of staircases and the gleaming mirrors that stood at the top of each one.

  She thought of Milarepa. Invite your fears, they are your creations. Befriend them; offer them your head.

  ‘I must do this,’ she told herself, jamming her fists into the pockets of her jeans. This time she didn’t try to walk up the stairs, she ran up, her feet moving so fast they were almost flying. There was no time to think or fear. Before she knew it she was standing in front of a mirror. At first it reflected her image like an ordinary mirror, then, as she had known it would, it changed. It became a doorway into another world.

  You never grow old in mirrors, the little voice said.

  A little blonde girl was squatting on a floor. She was too exhausted even to cry. She simply hung her head low. There was a bowl in front of her and inside it Dakota knew was the girl’s own excrement. A stern-lipped woman with black hair slicked back in a bun was standing over her. She was gently tapping a whip against the side of her leg.

  ‘Eat,’ she ordered.

  As if she was a trained circus animal, the girl immediately got to her hands and knees and moved her head toward the bowl.

  ‘Don’t!’ Dakota screamed.

  Both the woman and the child turned to stare at her. The child was visibly horrified, but the woman appeared mildly surprised, as if she had been told that such an interruption was unlikely, but it could happen. Her expression turned scornful. ‘There is nothing you can do,’ she mocked. ‘If you come in here you will all die.’ She turned back to the girl. ‘Eat,’ she c
ommanded, and raised the whip.

  The petrified girl moved her head toward the bowl.

  ‘No!’ Dakota shouted and put her hand through the doorway. The woman’s face changed to one of fear. Alters screamed. One came to the front and shrieked at her. ‘You fool. Look what you have done.’ Dakota screwed her eyes tightly and put her hands to her ears in terror. Even then she heard the terrible sounds. This was death. But then nothing happened. She opened her eyes and stood looking around her. The mirror lay in useless fragments, but nothing else had happened. False. They had been false, again.

  She must destroy them all. All the images of pain and degradation and suffering. One by one she ran up the stairs and shattered the mirrors. All the horrors slipped away to nothingness. Where it was born, there it went to end. All the pain went with it.

  She went back to the meadow.

  Shadow was waiting loyally at the edge for her. When he saw her, he came flying toward her. She knelt down and opened her arms.

  ‘Oh, Shadow,’ she said over and over again full of guilt. She had seen him in the mirror. She had seen what he had done for her. How his big, strong body had lain down inside the fighting cage and willingly let her take his life. Shadow put his great paw in her hand and forgave her. She held him close.

  ‘Come,’ she said to him and they walked until they came upon a stone. It was just the right size. She picked it up with both hands. It was time to enter the black cube. She made Shadow wait outside. It could be her end, but she’d be damned if she didn’t do it. She went in and smashed to pieces the self-turning contraption that Black had built for her. She let the stone fall from her hands and stood next to the hourglass watching the sand run out. When it did she waited.

  Nothing. Nothing happened. Another lie.

  She walked out into the sunshine toward Shadow, her triumph tinged with a dim dread. Soon it would be time to face her biggest fear. The others. And all the terrible things they had done in her name.