King of the Dark Mountain (12 page)

Gran wasn’t typical of her generation in many ways, but she did have the usual leeriness of the satanic posturing of some heavy metal bands. When he tried to wheedle a copy of
Highway to Hell
out of her by arguing it was old school anyhow, she said, “Your dad got it when it was new. And I’m not saying that led him down the wrong road, but it certainly wasn’t pointing him in the right direction was it?” She bought him
The White Stripes Album
instead. “Best to stick with your times, kiddo,” she laughed when he reluctantly offered the title as his second choice.

“So they let you bring your iPod, but you can’t have certain books,” he said after the last strains of “Heaven and Earth” died away.

Ewing paused the stereo, “I don’t really understand what their system of censorship is. They have elaborate notions about how people are supposed to function, so they try to impose their concepts in crude ways. They say books are banned that lead people to think that anything exists beyond this world. Yet music can take you totally out of this world, and that’s fine with them.”

“Weird,” Hez said. “Especially since they’re all into telepathy, which is also outside the material world.”

“Not according to them. To them, thoughts are electric energy signals so it’s all just another part of the material world.”

“So they’re anti-religious.”

“They have their own ideas about reality and they don’t want anything interfering with it, so that’s why they drill people against all ideas about God. I told them they don’t have to worry about that with me because I never was a believer. They seemed to accept that, but in your case, they could come at you about your beliefs.”

“Mine aren’t really orthodox.”

“It doesn’t matter. They’ll try to pry them out of you, to replace them with their bullshit. So just act like you think God is a fairytale and you won’t have them probing your mind for what the exact parameters of your thoughts on the subject are.”

“I wonder why it means so much to them.”

“I don’t know. It’s emotional to a lot of people so maybe it’s that. I get the impression they feed on emotion.”

“Anything else they’re likely to focus on?”

“Just act like you buy into their whole theory that they’re so superior to most humans that they deserve to decide the future of the human race. If they think you admire them that goes a long way like with most dickless wonders.”

“You think they’re just hiding their insecurities?”

“You’ve seen them, what do you think?” Hez laughed. “Hey, here’s a song I’ll bet you haven’t heard for a while.” Soon the room was filled with one of the sweetest guitar riffs from the 1970’s and Hez let it carry him away. Music wasn’t the drug to him it had been in his youth, but it could still do a lot to sooth his mind. It had been awhile since he’d taken the time to listen to any. On the farm, he was usually busy listening to weather reports or looking up information for planting soybeans or tomatoes.

He made a promise to himself that if he ever got back home, he would make music part of his life again, though he doubted it would ever sound as wonderful to him as it did at that moment. Ewing was listening with eyes closed, and for the first time since Hez had met him, he looked relaxed. Hez studied his face. He tried to remember the title of any of his books, but couldn’t think of any. That was another thing he planned to do in the future, read more, starting with whatever he could find by present company.

“You probably won’t like my writing much,” Richard said, as though reading his mind.

“Why not?”

“It’s just escapist crap. Stuff to fill the empty hours on a cross country flight. People buy it in one airport and ditch it when they get where they’re headed.”

“I don’t think they would have picked you out for inclusion on this Noah’s ark they’ve cooked up, if it was like that,” Hez replied.

“Yeh well, there’s no accounting for taste. It worries me that they like it. Maybe it means I’m a messed up puppy just like them.”

“You‘re not messed up.”

“No, what makes you think so?”

“Cause you like the same music as me,”

I thought that just meant I was a man,”

“No that would be cigarettes,”

They both laughed. “Well at any rate, I hope someday we can get out of here and we can go see the Stones together.”

“Yeh even if they keep us here for ten years, that’s one band we can count on still being around.” They laughed again, perhaps a little hysterically.

Ewing suddenly became serious, “It won’t be ten years. I think this thing they’re planning is going to come around soon, maybe any day now.”

“Do you have any idea what it will involve exactly?”

“I have an idea, though I hope I’m wrong.” And then Ewing turned off the music and began to speak in earnest, while Hez listened, trying to make sense of what was said. It was like another song, but one with lyrics so dark no one would dare sing them, even if they were delirious with a desire to appease some demon as was rumored to be the case with certain bands. Nothing like this could ever happen because it would mean that the stars themselves were evil. The thought reminded him of Milton’s description of the evil stars of hell. He shivered and Ewing kept on speaking, as though in a trance. Hez wanted him to stop, but he knew he needed to listen, even if he didn’t really understand it all. Finally Ewing said, “That’s how I think it will happen anyhow, but this might just be my imagination.”

Hez gaped at him, “Your imagination?”

Ewing nodded, “I’m getting to the point where I can’t distinguish what’s real and what’s in my mind. It’s kind of an occupational hazard, but this place has definitely made it worse.”

“So this could all just be a fantasy you’ve cooked up yourself?” Hez asked incredulously.

Ewing nodded, “That doesn’t mean they’re not up to something equally heinous, but it might be something else. I’ve thought about it long and hard and that’s what I think it is going to be, but I’m not completely sure.”

“Talk about your house of mirrors, well at least you’ve given it some thought.”

“But it’s like a conspiracy theory. It makes sense, but I don’t have any hard evidence. They manage to keep everything under wraps from all but a very few higher ups. All the peons below just have to wait and wonder.”

“But you must have some of it that’s provable.”

Ewing shook his head, “If I said I can prove to you that this room exists, tomorrow it could be morphed into empty space. So under these conditions, how can you prove anything?”

“If it’s so malleable, how can it even exist? Seems like it would just blow itself up.” Hez remarked.

“I think they had one that did, a few weeks ago something went wrong, I think one of these types of underground operations blew up on them literally. I know that since then, they’ve gotten more circumspect about using their material transforming capabilities.”

“So it might be possible to get a better handle on what’s going on,” Hez said.

“I’m trying but to tell you the truth I was beginning to lose hope. They’re such strong believers in their version of the truth.”

“Isn’t there anybody else in here that you think might be against them?”

“They’re good at screening out non-believers. It’s amazing they let me in. I think they mistook some of my moral ambiguity as a writer as personal.”

“So maybe I should try to make them think I don’t know the difference between right and wrong.”

“It’s the same as the religion thing. Just act like you’re perfectly open to the notion that the whole trend of human evolution has been toward the awesome goal of preserving the likes of them, and the majority of the human race is mere dross.”

“I don’t know if I can pull that off,” Hez said.

“Think of some canting politician that you’ve always despised, imagine you have to bow down to a thirty foot statue of the same. Do it as a mental exercise and you’ll be on your way.”

Hez stared into the dancing flames of the fake fire, “I dreamed I was back home and my grandmother’s purple crocus had bloomed.”

“I keep missing significant dates in my kids’ lives. They’re teenagers so they probably don’t even notice, but it’s tough being locked away in here thinking about them.”

“So you think they buy the story that you’re off doing research?”

“To tell you the truth, I wasn’t around as much as I should’ve been in their lives anyway. You know I had book tours, and the writing itself consumes a lot of time. It was stupid; they should have been my top priority always. So they probably don’t notice much of a difference, I’m ashamed to admit.”

“Well when we get out of here, you can make it up to them,” Hez said. “I’m going to appreciate my old farm place even more than I already did.”

“Sounds like you had your priorities lined up pretty good, all along.”

“Not much on the marriage front, two divorces. Maybe I’ll be able to work on that when we get out, too.”

Ewing jumped up and dug some bottles of ale out of a closet. “I should have put these in the fridge. Can you deal with warm beer?”

Hez, “Yeh, one time an ice storm threw out the power on our farm for a week and I drank a few warm beers. I don’t mind.”

Ewing rummaged for a can opener in a drawer, “Well this is some stuff a friend of mine makes himself and it will definitely taste better than any mass produced brew, cold or warm.” He handed the beer to Hez, “I told them I wanted it, and they got it for me. I think it’s just another mind game; their version of bad cop/good cop. They drag me in here and do their stupid threats but if I want some little thing like a particular brand of micro-brew, they get it for me.”

Hez took a sip of the beer; it was slightly sweet with a fragrance that reminded him of new mown hay. Ewing put on
Magical Mystery Tour
, the most under-rated Beatles album, according to him. And just when I thought you were cool, Hez remarked to himself, but later he was glad that he got to hear “Strawberry Fields Forever,” on such a good sound system. It seemed to get imprinted into his inner mind in such a way that it was almost audible to him in a continuous stream. For the next several days, if he wanted to, he could tune in and it was there, a comfort in the midst of everything else. When the last notes of the song were fading out, the part that was said to contain an ominous message regarding one of the Beatles, a sound like an Asian gong filled the room. The two men sprang to their feet.

“I had them install that sound for a doorbell, to remind me what I’m dealing with,” Ewing said, as two of the beige clad men appeared in the vanishing doorway.

“Mr. McCane, you must come with us,” one of them said. They were not the ones who had brought him. These two were dark and the accent seemed some type of Slavic.

“I want to come along … for research,” Ewing said.

One of the men said, “No, the orders are for McCane,” Hez was shoved out of the room before Ewing could say anything else. He sat down at the table and clasped his hands. He wished he had a God he could pray to, but that was not even a remote possibility to him. If such an entity existed, he could feel only rage at it. So he had long ago decided that it didn’t and so he didn’t have to feel outrage.

At the moment, he felt most of all fear for his new friend, and longing for his old ones. He picked up the beer, so lovingly crafted by his old college roommate. The man had a gift that he’d used in a much more honorable way than he had used his own so-called gift. The beer in his hand he knew represented Allan’s best effort, and he wasn’t sure that he’d ever written anything that was a personal best. Maybe that could change, if he ever got out of this infernal prison. He took a sip of the warm beer and hoped for that opportunity and that feeling was very close to a prayer.

Chapter Eleven

There was a tree, and round that tree there was a poem, and in that poem there was the key, the key, the key to make us free.

Ted had a picture of Ellie’s jeweled tree covering the wall of his living quarters. He was scribbling on a notepad, consulting his iPad from time to time, looking up words. He had been working for several hours, making very little progress. A kind of sing song verse was coming into his mind, but he didn’t pay it much heed. Lately, he was getting all kinds of random thoughts and usually he found they were merely distractions. This one seemed to be related to his goal of deciphering the words on the bark of the tree. The key to set us free was what he hoped to find, but he was starting to wonder if he would ever find the key.

He put the iPad down on the table and began to pace. In the vision in the chamber, Ellie had said they were in a place long buried beneath the waves. If they had been visiting an actual place in the past, the odds were good the language from such an ancient land would be utterly indecipherable. But when he looked at the image on the wall, he felt that it was something he could understand, if he tried hard enough. If the visions were some type of time travel then maybe the key lay in his own relationship to that time and place. He remembered the feeling of standing on the hill looking at the ocean. During the brief time of the vision, it had seemed the most natural view in the world like looking at his own backyard. How could it be so familiar and yet so utterly mysterious?

A chime sounded and Ellie’s voice came into the room, “Ted may I come in?”

“Yes, yes, please come in,” he said.

Ellie entered. She threw herself down on the sofa, “I’ve been trying to start the process of contacting Hez. I think he’s alright. I keep getting fragments of songs. He might be listening to music. Maybe that’s wishful thinking, but it seems right somehow.” She looked at the wall, “Are you having any luck with that?”

He shook his head, “No, it’s still Greek, but I can’t help feeling it shouldn’t be.”

“It’s beautiful isn’t it?”

He nodded, “Wonderful thing really, hard to understand how it was done. I mean if it does represent an actual artifact from the prehistoric past, it’s wonderful craftsmanship.”

“It’s like it’s natural and yet it’s too complex to be natural. Those jewels look grown into the bark, not put there. But they have to have been placed, because they obviously spell out letters.”

“There’s a story that when King Sejong of Korea wanted to get the people to accept the wonderful alphabet he had gotten created for the Korean language, he had the letters spelled out in honey on leaves so that when ants ate the leaves, the letters would seem naturally occurring. He thought the people would consider this a sign that the alphabet came from heaven.”

“Maybe those are heavenly words, you know like it says in the Bible about speaking in the tongues of angels.”

“Well if that’s the case, then we’re definitely out of luck. I’ve never had the good fortune to learn an angelic tongue.”

“I don’t know, some of the old languages sound angelic to me, especially old English and old Welsh or they used to when you would read those poems to us in class.”

“Yes those have a wonderful sound to our ears, don’t they?” He threw a wadded up ball of paper at the wall, “I just want to crack this code somehow. It’s got the hallmarks of a Phoenician based alphabet, not quite that but along those lines wouldn’t you say?”

“But I felt that we were standing somewhere long before the Phoenician were around, didn’t you? So how can the letters be based on a system that relatively recent in time?”

“Remember though we’ve managed to extract them and make them objective, these images are subjective to you. It might be your mind created the letters in the image.”

“There’s no way I could have imagined something like that.”

“Not with your conscious mind, but think of all the images our minds conjure up when we’re sleeping. Maybe this is some deep dream image of yours. If it is, then it’s possible that only you can decipher what’s written on the tree.”

“I know we were standing in a real place and time. It wasn’t just a dream image; it was something we accessed from a distant past that we shared.”

Ted shook his head, “Regardless, it still bears your signature because it came through your mind. I think you should reflect on it and see what it conjures up to you.”

“I’m not a linguist, and those are words in some foreign … wait I just thought of something,” she got up and looked at the image more closely. “Is there some way of turning this around, reversing it or something?”

“Sure, give me a second.” Momentarily the image faded then reappeared upside down.

She studied it for a long moment. “Is there a way to turn it front to back? You know it’s kind of three dimensional. If we could separate it out so we could look at the other side maybe that would help.”

Maybe, let me fiddle with the resolution a little here,” he began to adjust the image making it larger, then smaller again, finally he got a different image. “Do you think that’s the reverse of the thing?”

“I can’t tell. It looks like it could be. There’s no letters, but there’s some kind of design, do you see it?”

He stepped back to get a better look, “It could be meant to reference a constellation. Let me see if I can pull up something to check.” He fiddled some more and brought up a diagram of the Orion belt stars. “These are the ones linked to the pyramids in Giza. Let’s see if there’s any correlation. He laid the image of the stars over the jewels on the tree. “No, those don’t fit at all, the direction is all wrong.” He pondered a moment, “They remind me of the belt, wait let me try this.” He pulled up a different set of stars and it was a match.

“Wow, they fit, what is that?”

“It’s Orion’s sword.”

“Wow so this connects it to your theory about Newgrange and the Orion nebula,” she said and looked closely at the image. “Look there’s another line of jewels beside the one you’ve matched, it looks almost the same except the central jewel is bigger and it’s a different color.”

“Yes, you’re right. It’s gone from a little white diamond to a large ruby. This is really exciting because it seems to be giving us information about the Orion nebula, just like the stone at Newgrange. This helps to confirm that we’re on the right track. I can’t wait to get with Ian about this. He’ll be so excited that his hunch about bringing you on board was correct,” Ted said.

Ellie smiled. “Yes it’s all so amazing really.” Then her face clouded over, “I really should go see if I can contact Hez again.”

“Yes go ahead, see what you can find out,” Ted said in a distracted way. He was staring at the image on the wall. She went back to her little room and lay down on the bed. She began to do some relaxation techniques and focus all her thoughts on Hez.

*

Hez was seated in the throne-like chair in the rose room. They had simply deposited him in it. When he tried to get up, he found he was not able to do so, though there was no physical constraint. He had been in this predicament for more than an hour. People came and went below him. He tried to get their attention, but he found he could no longer speak. It was all very terrifying. He managed to keep the panic at bay by listening to “Strawberry Fields Forever” in his mind.

Finally Melton appeared. “I’m going to let you speak, but you are not to get out of the chair. If you attempt to get out of the chair I will freeze you in place again, and we will proceed installing the master implant without any further delay, understand?” Hez nodded and cleared his throat.

“Are you going to erase my memory now?” he asked, relieved to hear the sound of his own voice again.

“We’ve recently obtained some information regarding the importance of emotional bonding in accelerating our research. Since you and Richard Ewing get along so well, we’ve decided to allow you to keep your memories and the rest of your personality traits for now.”

“Then why set me in this high chair?” Hez asked evenly.

“The chair is a mental enhancing tool. We want to give you some information that will help you understand our goals, so that you will be able to help us achieve them. We think when you understand the scope of what we’re attempting, you will be more than happy to do so. The chair will help you to retain everything we show you.”

Hez nodded, trying to look as noncommittal as possible. He figured that if he showed too much enthusiasm too soon they wouldn’t buy it. Just play for time, he told himself and waited. Melton was typing information into a keyboard. “We’ve arranged a little history lesson of the project to catch you up. Just watch the screen behind me.”

Melton stepped away and on the wall behind him appeared shots of people on the street. It looked like New York but he wasn’t sure.

“In the late twentieth century, modification of the food supply coupled with behavior modification promoted through well selected technological innovations introduced to the mass culture created the physical and psychological changes needed for the beginning steps of Project Cripton. As can be seen from this random street shot the effects were fairly consistent and widespread. Several other street shots followed.

“These videos were taken in several prominent American cities, and the effect is the same. The epidemic of obesity allowed us to move even more quickly ahead than we even dared hope. The result has been that we have the ability to broadcast our goals and have the information received by the bodies of the general population. They pick it up both as individuals and share it
en
masse
. Even though they have grown more and more isolated from each other, as their social networks have been systematically dismantled, they have a group connection that is very effective for our purposes.”

Hez found his heart was pounding. He fought for control against the mounting anger. “Why are you doing this?” he managed to ask in a quiet voice.

Melton paused the presentation, “I know it’s horrible to have to look at them, but it’s just a temporary phase which will all be over soon. “

“What do you mean?”

“Just watch the presentation, Mr. McCane. The chair will help you understand some of the more technical details, but you still need to pay close attention.”

“There will be a quiz at the end?’ Hez asked.

“You might say that. If we think you can assist us we will bring you on board and show you the truly glorious end result of all our hard work. If not, well, let’s be optimistic and say you turn out to be an enthusiastic member of the team.”

Melton resumed the presentation. “Early in the twenty-first century, Project Cripton entered a new phase. We found that through building containment units in granite topped mountains in strategic locations, the information purveyed through human subjects could be stored. These were small at first, but over time as they became larger, we began to experiment with ways to use the information in new and exciting ways.”

“This was an amazing time and we put other strategies in place to ensure that our subjects continued to provide a reliable means of transmitting information
en masse
over distances. The non-resonant humans, by that meaning those not cued for our transmissions provided a means of moderating the flow of information. We were having trouble processing all of it, so we tamped down somewhat. Previously the Atlantic Ocean had also provided a means of moderating the flow, but once some technologies caught up, we found once again that we could handle vast quantities of data. This led to engaging with an American entrepreneur to build a containment site in the northeastern United States. “At this point in the video, a picture of a mountain appeared that Hez assumed was the one he had entered a few days ago.

“There were efforts to curtail the obesity epidemic but these were easily overcome by applying the right types of political pressure against any agricultural model that did not promote it. We discovered that the lives of our subjects were being curtailed to some extent by the high fat, high sugar diet that we preferred, so we began to infiltrate neighboring countries and eliminate cultural diet norms that would keep people from exhibiting the desired traits. If all goes according to plan, we will have the entire New World geared to providing the necessary degree of resonance for the grand stellar event.”

The video abruptly ended. “Can I get up?” Hez asked.

Melton said, “I’ll let you return to Richard’s room and compare notes with him shortly. We want the two of you to get used to working closely together for the final phase of Cripton. First, however I am willing to answer any questions that might have occurred to you.”

“I really don’t have any questions. I’m just stunned really, it’s utterly mind blowing,” he said shaking his head, speaking softly.

Melton beamed, “Yes it truly is an amazing bit of cutting edge science, isn’t it? We have made leaps forward on our way to harnessing untold amounts of energy.”

“So that’s what the stellar event is all about ?” Hez asked.

“It’s still being worked out, and that’s where we will need the help of select pairs such as you and Richard to assist us. You would fine tune all the massive amounts of information being stored right now all around us in order to open the flood gates of almost infinite energy.”