Pulling The Dragon's Tail (19 page)

In her strong, steady voice Sister Mariah
replied, “How has this person changed? He?”

“She.”

“Has she been disloyal, lied or cheated or hurt
you personally?”

“No, it’s her external appearance.”

“Oh, we all change, Nate, grow older, age.
Except maybe for you.

“Of course, Sister, but my only secret is just
good, clean living,” Nate said, repeating a lie told countless
times before. “She has become a transhuman.”

“Oh, I see!” her voice suddenly tinged with
concern.

“And who does she work for?”

“She refuses to say.”

“That doesn’t sound promising for your
friendship. Which is how deep?”

“Pretty deep in the past, some romantic
overtones, but certainly none now. It is a chance meeting.”

“Can you tell me any other details?”

“Not at this point, Sister Mariah.”

“You and your secrets, my dear boy. But that is
between you and Father Abraham. So I would say this; pray for
discernment from the Father. And I would also say that if you have
an equally trusted person who knows both of you, then perhaps that
other could vouch for your TH friend.”

“As always, Sister Mariah, thank you for your
counsel. Eyes open and face to the sky.”

“Eyes open and face to the sky, Brother
Nate.”

* * * * * *

“He will be done praying in about three and
one-half minutes,” observed Es, staring out the window.

Campbell also peered out at Nate through the
cabin window. “That’s a strange ritual.”

“Yes, very distinctive,” answered the
transhuman. “Eyes open, facing the sky. Each of the ten fingers
represents a major spiritual tradition.”

“Three and a half minutes, huh?”

“Observation, lots of observation, doctor.”

Moments later, Nate entered the cabin and faced
Es. “Let’s list the facts. I still don’t trust transhumans, nor
will I ever. It’s just too bizarre to see a person exhibit no
visible emotions. It makes you so hard to read. And for me, it just
adds to your secretiveness.” He sighed. “On the other hand, you
saved my life. And you were a good friend years ago.”

Es responded. “If you give me a chance you will
see I am still that good friend, only shall we say, enhanced.”

“Yeah, it’s that enhanced part that still has me
concerned. You and I and our other compatriots know better than
anyone else that times have changed. How much has that passage of
time changed us? This awesome gift of nearly, it seems, immortal
life…Perhaps, it changes all of us in unforeseen ways. We have so
much responsibility with this power.”
And you and everyone else
in the Alpha Group may have some decisions to make about how to use
our power.

“I resent your presence here,” continued Nate,
“and I’m certainly not asking you to accompany us farther. I’ve
prayed and sought Father Abraham’s leading and completely trust His
leading, not yours, to keep me safe.”

He patted Dugan and stroked his fur
. And I’m
really counting on you too.

He turned to the transhuman again. “If I tell
you to leave, you’ll just follow from a distance. You’ve insisted
on staying, so I want to see you close by to keep an eye on you.
All the better for Dugan to protect me.
“Just don’t
interfere with my decisions. Clear?”

“Yes,” replied the stoic transhuman. “I
understand and respect that your decisions are final, that I am
here on a tentative basis. I hope that my services of protection
and security will supplement and enhance Dugan.”

“Time will tell,” he said stonily.

Campbell thought, Well … aren’t we just one
big happy dysfunctional family? Just when I thought I could forget
managing all the conflicts on a psych unit
.

She glanced first at Es, then across the room at
Nate. Dugan sat by the front door of the cabin. Dugan’s presence
was the friendliest in the room. She knelt beside him and gave him
some loving pats on the back
. Artificial intelligence. Not a bad
existence. No emotions. No worries about growing older. Not a
thought about how to travel with a psychobiologist, a transhuman,
and a ninety-one year-old man.
She stared into Dugan’s brown
eyes, marveling at how such advanced technology could be so warm
and cuddly
. Then again, maybe he is thinking about our
situation. So my new friend, what lies around the corner for
us?

Campbell Devereaux, Dugan, Es and I are on a
circuitous route to England. We just left Newfoundland on a
hyperboat bound for Reykjavik. Es has arranged the transportation.
Still not sure to what extent
she
can be trusted. So far
Dugan’s programming is secure. Unsure if I’m relying more on Father
Abraham or Dugan.

Dugan has provided a fair amount of evidence
that confirms that the man in the cave is Browning Watts, our old
Alpha Group colleague. It also appears that he goes by Herschel
Hatton now. Even if the evidence fits, I’m at an utter loss to
understand what has turned him into a madman. Did he kill Wakely?
Even if her murderer was another Gideon’s Army stooge, could
Browning still be behind it all?

Even though I haven’t programmed vocal
inflection into his syntax, I swear Dugan is fascinated by Es,
whatever or whoever she considers herself to be. Regardless, Es
continues to monitor Gideon’s Army activities. If she can keep me
away from those people, perhaps I can tolerate her kind. Our
current mode of transport is a “borrowed” plane from one of Es’
colleagues in the Russian military.

I’m heading for Stonehenge to talk with Sister
Mariah. Father Abraham, you said it would be difficult, but how do
I deal with the likes of Campbell and Es? And they’re supposedly on
my side. You have guided me thus far, Father Abraham. Eyes open and
face to the sky.

I now know the Holy Grail is in Canada. Dugan
has assured me that Es does not know that the secret combination is
Campbell. But now other tasks beckon.

End-Date Adjustments: On 5-2 downloaded new
weather data, global heat index projected to hit record in Latin
America, precipitation amount set to be broken in Indonesia and
Mexico. Complicating public understanding continues to be the new
low temp records in Oceania. Psychological anomie is stabilizing
across New Europe but still decreasing across California Territory
and a sub-region of the McVeigh Territory (old Colorado, Wyoming
and Montana). Spending ratio of infrastructure to military is still
dangerously high in sub-Saharan Africa. Downwelling continues to
decrease off coast of Greenland. Dugan concludes that none of the
new information contradicts our most recent findings.

I’m more depressed than ever reviewing this
data. There’s very little I
do
control regarding changing
the End-Date factors, and I hope never to use the one option left
which I do control, Option 16Z.

Es, formerly known as Talashia Green. Why do I
find so much difficulty applying CHOFA’s Seventh Peace Step toward
her? It’s her transformation into a transhuman, stupid! Such
massive body alterations! Why’d she do it? I want my old Talashia
back. Is that too much to ask?

Chang Chuang-tze continues to bug me about
joining the Organization of Concerned Scientists, telling me my
presence would be welcomed; my expertise in computing and
artificial intelligence, invaluable. He’s gotten under my skin, and
I don’t know why. Does he know anything about my past? Besides my
programming capabilities, he must only be aware of me through my
association with CHOFA. After all it was Sister Mariah’s good
reference that first prompted him to want me to serve on OCS’s
Environmental Concerns Committee. Or is there more?

Dugan’s telling me I’ve finally established a
connection with Kalpana.

Nate rechecked the electronic transmission
shield that Dugan had put in place around his cubicle on the
hyperboat. He faced forward with Dugan beside him. In front of him
sat Campbell and Es in the rear-facing seat. The hyperboat churned
through the icy Atlantic Ocean at seventy kilometers per hour
carrying about a hundred passengers under a spacious domed
roof.

His audio connection to India was fuzzy. He
dared not do a visual because it consumed too much bandwidth and
keeping it secure from potential eyes of other passengers would be
difficult. “Where’ve you been, Kalpana? Was your Net down? You’ve
not answered any pages.”

Marisol Estefan, a member of the Alpha Group,
now called herself Kalpana Kashmir. She had lived for over twenty
years in poverty-stricken India, working as a nurse and healthcare
advocate. Over the years, she and Nate had grown quite close.

Kalpana’s voice crackled. “I’m on a train bound
for Mumbai. All hell has broken loose. The prime minister has been
assassinated, we’re picking up passengers trying to escape Cyclone
Frederick, and I have even worse news. William has been
killed.”

“Our William?” asked a startled Nate. “Are you
sure?” The irritating hiss of static made it increasingly difficult
for him to hear.

“Positive,” continued Kalpana. “I spoke to his
boss in Germany two hours ago. My God! First, Wakely, now William.
What are the odds that—”

He completed her thought. “That two of our
sixteen have been murdered?”

“I hate to think that after all these years
someone has finally discovered us,” she said.

“Kalpana,” he sighed, not wanting to burden her
with more bad news, but he was sure it trumped all of her other
problems. “Someone
has
discovered us, but it’s not what you
think. Be very careful. Don’t trust anybody, not even your friends.
We have good evidence that our friend Browning Watts is the
murderer and may be conspiring with others. He just tried to kill
me.” He paused. For a desperate second he heard nothing but static
on the other end. “Kalpana? Did you hear me?”

Finally her voice came through. “Allah…will
sustain us. Mumbai Meteorological is forecasting the cyclone to
skirt us but we’re still picking up more passengers. You know how
panic grows. We’re breaking up. Can you hear me?”

“Yes, I can. Did you hear my warning about—”

“We’ll be fine. Don’t worry. I’m traveling with
a great companion.” Her voice was fading fast. “You’ll never
believe…”

“Kalpana, I can barely hear you. Did—” Then he
saw the tiny purple marker in the bottom right corner of his
monitor glasses disappear, indicating the transmission had been cut
off. Hitting redial from his wrist mouse did no good. She was gone,
and there was absolutely nothing he could do to change that. Two
things were within his control at the moment. After breathing a
prayer to Father Abraham for Kalpana’s safety, he opened up the
monitor on Dugan’s back. After pushing several keys, he finally hit
the install key.
I may need all the help I can get.
He
patted Dugan.

* * * * * *

The knife sunk deeply into Kalpana’s chest.
Blood spurted everywhere. Herschel twisted the blade in deeper.
Kalpana screamed as she fell.

“Brown …Hersch, wake up!” Kalpana said, gently
shaking him by the shoulder. “You’re having a nightmare.”

Herschel Hatton, aka Browning Watts, wiped the
matter from his eyes. He sat up from his slumped position on the
noisy, lumbering train. The sweat-drenched passenger car filled his
nostrils with its stench. Surrounding him were scores of poor
Indian men and women, watching him intently with eager, curious
brown eyes. Without skipping a beat, he asked, “What’d I say?”

“Oh nothing except something about murder,
blood, you know stuff like that.”

He gave her a long pensive look, unsure what to
do or say.

She broke out into a big smile. “I’m kidding!
You were just moaning and groaning. Don’t worry; you’re secret’s
safe with me,” as she winked at him. “Hey, I’m just giving you back
some of the stuff you used to dish out at you-know-where.”

He let out a big sigh and with it his firm-set
jaw loosened up. “Yeah, guess I deserved that,” he said with a
smirk. He looked out the train window to his left. Rain and wind
pelted furiously against the glass.

“It’s so great to see you again, but I apologize
for the trying circumstances. There was no way of knowing the
turmoil India would be in, but then India always seems to be in
turmoil.”

He turned back to face her.
Yeah, it’s making
my job harder too.
“So tell me again how India elected a
Christian prime minister?”

“The Christian population has grown steadily in
the past century to where they’re a significant minority, with an
ability to compete politically with the Hindus and Muslims. It was
hoped that Victor Kerala could unite the factions. At least he
could isolate some of the extremist element among the Hindu and
Islamist groups. But,” she said regretfully, “the extremists are
again altering the political climate with their assassination of
Kerala. I’ll never understand violence. It only begets more.”

“Sometimes you have to fight injustice with
violence.”

“I guess you’ll never make a good Church of
Abraham member, will you?” she said with a sparkle in her eyes.

Doing his best to be nonchalant, Herschel bit
his lip until the pain stung him. “Guess not.” Then he focused on
Kalpana herself. Her bronze skin, a heritage of her Hispanic roots,
was only deepened by years in the hot Indian sun. Dressed in a
traditional hand-woven light brown sari, she was indistinguishable
from a native Indian woman. And her accent was flawless.

He looked out the window to his right, through
the pounding rain, and saw the lush landscape in the deep shadow of
late evening. A bit further inland lie the Western Ghats, low-lying
mountains that ran along India’s west coast. About a half kilometer
on his left lie the warm waters of the Arabian Sea. To the north
was the massive metropolis of Mumbai on India’s west coast.
Give
me Kansas any day
.