Darwood & Smitty - Chapter 6
“You gave an ok to that fella pretty quickly,” said Darwood as the police cruiser sped off, leaving them beside their delivery truck. “Do you really think we ought to trust him, or were you just buying us time again?”
Smitty shrugged. “I don’t know if we should trust him, but he told us something important: old man Squat is lying. If the police are in place to help with the take-over that Keane is supposedly orchestrating, then they wouldn’t need to pick us up and ask us to hurry up his agenda. They’d already be in cahoots with Keane.” “Unless they’re trying to throw us off the scent. If they know we met with Squat, they might want to do exactly that — show us precisely that they’re not in cahoots.” Smitty slowly furrowed his brow and shook his head at Darwood, unbelieving. “Don’t you have some-where else to be?” he asked. “I’ve got this perfect theory going and you’ve got to just trash it like that.” “You mean ….” Darwood stopped and stared dumbfounded at his comrade. “You mean I … I found a problem in something before you? How is that possible?” Smitty looked to the sky and put his hands on his hips. “Yeah,” he said absent-mindedly. “You did. Now let me think a minute.” He wasn’t looking at anything in particular; his eyes darted around the skies as he tried piecing things together in his mind. “Still trusting my gut,” he said at last. He looked back at Darwood, catching him eye to eye. They had to really agree on this because it seemed that both their lives depended on their choices. “I still don’t like Squat. The Jovians feel more trustworthy. And once again, I can’t shake the fact that Keane is doing exactly what I’d do in office, even if I’m not sure of his motives. Like we decided before, we’ve got to trust someone because we would suck at hiding. I say the president is our best bet.” “Me too,” said Darwood, still eye to eye with his friend. “Besides, why would you trust anyone living down dirt roads?” Smitty gave him a sideways smile, then they both climbed into Eli. The van floored it onto the ramp, shot up to Zone 3, and spun once more toward NYC. Within thirty minutes, they slipped back onto the capital streets and glided to the Apex. Security was on them more quickly than before, but this time Smitty was confident and simply announced their names. And this time it didn’t fly. “I said back up to the truck, turn, and put your hands up against it,” said a boisterous captain. It was a new security team. The others were no doubt off their shift. “What’s the problem, Captain?” asked Smitty as the two backed up. “Darwood and Smitty were already here today, boys. The president’s not expecting any packages. But we’re always expecting rebels, so if you don’t mind … against the truck!” The two men looked at each other with a sudden horror of realization: they had been scammed, and they were the only two who knew that they weren’t planning to kill the president. The guards probably knew who they were, assumed they were assassins, and were going to fix that little problem right now. No way for the two men to communicate a plan with the guards on top of them. Not much time to make one anyway. And the two weren’t really fighters; they weren’t about to make it past a dozen armed security personnel. Smitty was thinking fast. There had to be something he could say. He was startled when Darwood spoke: “Kill us and the president’s a dead man, sir.” The captain jammed a LightToob® immediately against Darwood’s throat, shoving the deliveryman the rest of the way back into the van. “Talk quick. This isn’t set to stun.” “Look man, I just mean that we’ve got information for the president that can save his life. You kill us, that information’s gone and you put the president at risk. We spoke with him earlier today. He knows we’re Darwood and Smitty. He’ll want to hear from us right away.” The captain slowly cocked his head to one side and drew his snarling face directly into Darwood’s. “Is that right, boy? Well why don’t you tell me what you know and I’ll decide if it qualifies you as a concerned citizen, or if I drop you here like the rebel you are.” Darwood’s face suddenly leered into a snarl as well. “Drop your weapon, boy, and I’ll think about telling you.” Smitty’s eyes went wide. He was fascinated, even though he was pretty sure his friend was about to get them both killed. The captain looked hard at Darwood but slowly lowered his weapon. “Talk.” “Two days from now there’s going to be a vote that affects some of the world’s largest and most powerful corporations. They have, of course, used their influence to ensure that the vote goes their way, but they’re leery of the president’s growing influence.” The captain bobbed his head side to side, very cocky. “Tell me something we don’t know,” he chided. “What you don’t know,” said Darwood, quickly crafting something that would sound plausible, “is that they’ve set a plan in motion that will literally unravel in the next 24 hours, and either the president ends up dead, or he’s politically assassinated. And I’m not saying anything more, because there’s no way we know who to trust. You call the president and see if he wants to talk with us, or you drop us where we stand.” “Friggin’ tempting,” growled the captain, but he pushed his wrist — a communicator obviously embedded — and spoke. “Critical call for the president. See if he’s willing to take it.” In a few moments, President Keane apparently answered into a hidden chip in the captain’s ear. “Sir, we have a supposed Darwood and Smitty insisting they’ve got information on an assassination attempt and they won’t give us the details. If you care to confirm their identity, we’ll send them in to speak with you. If you don’t, we’ll get rid of them for you.” The captain suddenly cringed and slapped his hand up to his ear. “Sir … yes sir … could you just … sir … yes sir, but you don’t need to ….” If he could have removed the chip, he probably would have, but he had to suffer the president’s wrath. “Right away sir.” He glared at the deliverymen. “Follow me. You’ve still got to go through security inside.” Inside ten minutes, the two were settling into the president’s office, this time facing a couch, which the president lounged himself into. “Gentlemen, you’ve got some news?” “Uh … yes sir,” said Smitty. He took a deep breath. “We already ran into a couple of those challenges you were expecting.” “A couple? I wasn’t expecting that. I’ve only heard one so far.” “Which one is that, sir?” asked Darwood. “The one where I’m the real fiend, trying to lead us into some foreign invasion.” Darwood and Smitty looked at one another, surprised. “Yeah,” they said together. “Don’t be surprised. Why am I using deliverymen in the first place, rather than having my own staff picking up the package? Because frankly, there are certain dots I don’t want people connecting. Not yet. So if I’m using Earth Express, obviously I have reason to research my deliverymen ahead of time — but you have no idea how carefully you two were screened. Because all the others have been swayed by whoever this other voice is. They’ve all tried to turn on me or run away. One pair actually made it in here to assassinate me. They actually told me something about how I was allowing an invasion of Earth, as if to explain why they would have to kill me. And of course security stepped in and … halted their efforts. Mind filling me in on the details of the story?” The two described the entire setting out in the Catskill foothills, the man squatting in the tree and on his chair, and the tale he told of an ancient group that built the conglomerates for the protection of Earth. “He didn’t say just who was meant to invade,” Darwood said, concluding their tale. “But he sure suggested that the Jovians were in on it.” “That wouldn’t shock me,” said the president. “I’m not very trusting of the Jovians, I don’t mind telling you. They know that. They know I’m suspicious about how they secured global police powers. But it’s a delicate matter that will take more time to deal with than some of the other things I’m tackling.” “Huh. That’s interesting,” said Darwood. “Sure is,” said Smitty. The president looked at them, the question written on his face. “Well, the other challenge we ran into was with the Jovians, and they told us they were in support of your position with the special interests. They said they were on your side. They were just concerned, though, that you were moving too slowly.” “Too slowly?” The president laughed out loud. “I’ve been in office a few months, have already pissed off the world’s conglomerates so badly that I’m under constant threat, we have major legislation in place to curb the influence of special interests in two days, and I’m not moving quickly enough? That’s an interesting perspective! “No, gentlemen, as far as I know, I’m not involved in any plot with the Jovians to arrange an invasion. And they’re not in much of a position to influence my agenda. We’ll have to figure out what these stories are about. Meanwhile, though,” said the president, standing from the couch, “there is good news.” He approached and shook hands with both men. “My research finally paid off. You’re the first to return and tell me what’s really going on. The first who trusted me enough to be trusted. Have time for more of the story?” The men nodded, surprised to learn that there was more. “There’s a lot to our history that not many people know — sometimes because of security interests, but usually because people don’t like the truth. It challenges their sense of things too much. There was never any group foreseeing the problem of aliens and promoting corporate conglomerates to protect us. The fact is, no one officially knew about the presence of extra-terrestrial life because galactic law specifically prohibits interplanetary communication until a planet has achieved a certain semblance of unity. Ironically, that never occurred until the conglomerates made one system of the world’s economy. I say ironically, because Squat’s story almost makes sense, except it was pure economics that drove this, and not some group protecting us from an alien threat.” “So all the theories about ancient astronauts, aliens building the pyramids, and all of that … just trash?” asked Smitty. The president smirked. “You want to go down that road?” Smitty nodded with vigor. “The Plutonians have apparently always been trouble-makers and were thrown off the galactic council for a while. To get back at the council, they spent some time invading Earth. They built a few of the pyramids — in a matter of days, I might add — on various trips. They popped up all around the world, so you’ve got little hints in stone everywhere about their visits. Easter Island’s a good example. Carved by people, but the stones were placed by the Plutonians themselves. The faces were carved to look like these space gods.” “Sure, except they’re huge,” laughed Darwood. “Those guys aren’t more than about a foot tall!” “Well, that’s the point. Everything they did here was big, as if … you know, to compensate. I understand it’s kind of a joke among the Solar planets.” Darwood grinned. “But why did the galactic council allow them to come here?” asked Smitty. “It didn’t. The Plutonians were badly punished. The council either doesn’t stop things from happening or can’t — I don’t know which. But I’ve heard that you really don’t want to break galactic law. If you do, you suffer something unspeakable, as Pluto did. So they stopped invading pretty quickly, fell back into line with the council, and were eventually let back on it.” “Ok, so if that’s true,” said Smitty, sitting up straighter in his chair, “then we know Squat was deliberately lying. We really weren’t under any threat because galactic law protected us from invasion.” “Not only that,” said the president, pacing past the men and leaning against his desk as they turned in their chairs to face him, “but it keeps you from understanding the rest of our recent history. You see, conglomerates didn’t form as a means of saving us from an alien threat. Rather, those who wished to become the conglomerates fabricated an alien threat so that they could grow. Corporations colluded to generate UFO hoaxes, including all of the abductions and experiments. Pharmaceutical companies, for instance, could get away with plenty of illegal human testing for their drugs under the guise of alien abductions. Genetic testing, mind control techniques, you name it. These major corporations worked together — along with a few governments who enjoyed being bought and sold — to create the necessary fear, which they used to manipulate governments worldwide. This is how they convinced political leaders that economic unity was imperative to Earth’s safety, and as a result, they got all sorts of special treatment so that they could spread their pocket-picking fingers everywhere. This is why certain companies got away with absolute and obvious rape of the people and the world.” “If all the countries agreed that we needed this economic unity to fight off a fabricated threat — but one they thought was real,” said Darwood, wondering, “why did it take them so long to stop fighting?” The president smiled. “You see? History comes alive. This actually explains why countries kept fighting. When I give you the key, you’re going to see everything of the last few decades in a completely different light. Think you’re ready for that?” the president asked with a wink. “I never listened much in history class, so I haven’t got too many preconceived notions,” said Darwood. “And everything I’ve learned from Smitty is nuts anyway, so your story can’t hurt.” The president grinned with Smitty before continuing. “The corporations secretly created an alien threat, then convinced the world governments to encourage economic unity as a means of protection. And they assured the nations that, when a global government necessarily came into place, each nation would have an influence on the creation of that government. And the more power a nation had when that new government was created, the more influence it would have in forming the world government. You see? The number one world power, in other words, would have the most influence, and would become the seat of the new government.” Smitty’s mouth fell open. “So they were all fighting for global supremacy, never expecting world conquest but looking to be number one when the global government took power.” “Exactly,” said the president, tapping his finger on his nose. “And there’s more. What were we fighting globally early this century?” Smitty looked at Darwood to let him answer an easy one, and Darwood took it. “Terrorism.” “And why was there terrorism?” “Because religious fanatics wanted to stop the spread of Satan’s influences, which they generally saw as any nation up to its neck in consumerism.” “A very good, conventional answer,” said the president. “Now, Mr. Jones, do you mind providing the new answer for Darwood?” Smitty squinted his eyes, thought it through, and finally pieced it together. “Armies, funded by the world’s most powerful countries to weaken other powerful countries. Anyone funded by another country is a terrorist, and anyone funded by your own country is a rebel fighting for what’s right — democracy, or whatever your country believes in.” The president was beaming. “You see … I knew I liked you Smitty. Outstanding. That’s exactly what happened. Now, the story’s a little more complex than that because there were plenty of underground treaties. For instance, countries that knew they wouldn’t be number one sided with those they thought would be number one, in order to secure more important posts within the new government. So different countries supported different terrorist events for different purposes — but all with the basic goal of achieving a measure of global power. Well, and of course there were individual groups that just rose up because they liked using weapons and they decided they liked being terrorists. But by and large, the whole fiasco was funded by competing nations.” “Well there’s something I don’t understand,” said Darwood, scrunching his eyebrows together. “Again, I’m not much good with history, but I do remember learning that China became an economic powerhouse early in the century. They even built up a pretty strong military. After the World Recession, weren’t they pretty much top dog?” He looked to Smitty to correct him, but his friend shrugged and looked to the president. “Ah, the tangled web of politics,” mused the president, folding his arms and looking thoughtfully toward the ceiling. He returned his glance to the men. “Everyone was trying to stay a step ahead of everyone else because they wanted the seat of government. The U.S. economy roared back because of innovation in general and, in particular, the arrival of alternative energy technologies that had long been suppressed. But new money fueled a pent-up desire for products from all over the world. That drove China and other countries into overdrive once again. The United States and China were neck-and-neck in terms of global power. “Then in the mid-2010s, a date was set by the conglomerates — by means of their political influence — for the new global government. It would be formed on January 1, 2020, and presented to the people of the world as the only possible solution to terrorism. All nations would have to submit to this government. Those that refused would face the awesome new, global army. “China and the U.S. were now the two choices for the seat of government, and both looked for ways to influence the final decision. China gave more and more concessions to the conglomerates to help feed them more profits — and I guess they figured that, once they had the seat of government, they could reverse whatever they wanted to. And a lot of CEOs, of course, were looking for that kind of immediate payback.” “And what about the U.S.? What did they give?” Keane shrugged and smiled. “Glamour. Comfort. Luxury. To those who mattered.” He paused and let the men think about it, but when they didn’t answer, he added, “They built a city.” “Paradise,” said Darwood and Smitty together. Conventional knowledge simply stated that the world’s most powerful companies had built the perfect city in order to give their leaders the most protected, most advanced, and most luxurious lives possible. It was designed, crafted, and maintained to live up to its name, with streets of marble; gold plating everywhere; precious gems embedded into public works of art; homes of impossible proportions; and personal servants provided for every family. One city of CEOs, it was said, would allow the companies to work together, making deals that would create more harmony among the conglomerates, strengthening our trading power in the Solar system. Conventional knowledge said nothing of a U.S. investment in Paradise, but the president’s story fit with the timing — the city was built in the 2010s — and explained what was otherwise a fishy origin to that town. The president stretched lazily, coming to the end of his tale. “Right you are,” he replied after his stretch. “The U.S. secretly presented the city as a gift to the CEOs … so long as the U.S. was the seat of power. It was a nifty marketing maneuver. Despite the profits that China generated for the companies, the CEOs were understandably drawn to the City of Gold. So they used their influence and established New York as the new global capital. Of course China was still given substantial influence because of their power. That’s why so many fields became run by one company rather than having competition, the way delivery is now run by Earth Express. This was due to communist influence, mainly from China.” “It’s a hell of a story,” said Darwood as both deliverymen shook their heads in wonder of it all. “And you pretty much know the rest,” said Keane. “After the global government took power — and much to the surprise of those who had fabricated an alien threat — the other planets were finally allowed by galactic law to introduce themselves, and system trade began. Now, what is my goal? And what is my challenge? I’m after these conglomerates, which have manipulated the world and have caused so much pain. But I need to break down their networks without breaking down the new, global government, which I believe in. Our unity is a long way from perfect, but so far it has prevented a great deal of war. I want us to move forward in this regard. But not in the hands of these conglomerates who think that money should rule the world rather than the people and their elected leaders. If we don’t dismantle them, the people will never control their own destinies. It’s a fate, it’s a fate, it’s a fate ….” The president paused, cocked his head to one side, then breathed deeply. “It’s a fate I cannot stand by idly to see.” |