Wicked Messenger by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview
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Chapter 10
Joshua was also deep in thought under the protection of a member of the forgiving saguaro family. He decided that the first thing he had to do was find Ares rocket and dispose of it as he didn’t want to risk having any evidence around that he was anywhere near him. He followed footprints in the sand.
He walked and walked, eyes to the ground, wishing to see Ares’ tiny rocket. The incessant sun made him break into a sweat, long after the duel had no effect on his moisture secretion. The Esperanza sign served as a reminder of where he had been and where he was going. Now that he had taken steps back to being a corrupted Eli he saw the “No” painted in front of the town’s name as an expression of stupidity, performed by someone who had not seen much. The little rocket shined at him from the edge of a group of prickly pear cacti. He pocketed the state-of-the-art model and walked back toward town.
Grandpa circled around killing time and thinking about the destruction possibilities the technology represented. It seemed ridiculously ironic that the end of everything was enclosed in a silver lipstick case. He realized that there was nothing anyone could do about it as once something has been invented it never goes away. In his time he had seen the power of explosives grow exponentially, but this Eli device was insidious in its ability
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to destroy things easily, silently, secretly and with no messy fuss. Death had become banal, effortless and efficient, with the chic of Art Deco.
He still had no idea of where to put the diminutive destructor. He thought that if someone came looking for it his room would be too obvious a choice as a place to ransack. But he also wanted the ability to retrieve it quickly if necessary. So, it would have to be somewhere near the front door, just like rural settlers kept their favorite gun two hundred years prior.
But, they had it easier as they were only concerned with snakes, coyotes and an occasional misguided cougar; none a concern to use a weapon. He couldn’t come up with anything he considered good. In search of a new idea he recalled an old film noir movie wherein the man-on-the-run said that the best place to hide was in plain sight. He put in in a kitchen drawer which stored the computer parts, adapters and routers that he had been hoarding like a pack rat for decades. Though his daughter and her husband had periodically been after him to dispose of the “junk,” it was still his house. He insisted that one never knows when they’re going to need a spare part and that the space had no other purpose anyway.
He got back to the house just as Joshua did, openly went to the drawer and deposited the “silver bullet.” Joshua’s wasn’t paying much attention as he was thinking of his own problems and
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the last he knew of the gun, it was with Becky. Grandpa angrily said; “You just had to come here with all your ****, didn’t ya?”
as he slammed the kitchen drawer.
Joshua held up his hands in front of his chest and shook his head “No,” as he sighed deeply and eyed the floor.
Grandpa repeated; “Didn’t ya?”
“I didn’t make this situation. If it wasn’t me, it would have been someone else. Someone worse. I just killed the second
‘scout.’”
“I heard. And you Elis have the audacity to say that Earthlings are a violent species.”
Joshua didn’t have any immediate argument, as he had previously considered his people illogical in the same regard.
After a few seconds he went back to basics and said; “Everything tries to stay alive. You too.”
“******* guns. *** **** ******* guns.”
“My sentiments precisely. But, after the technology is invented what the **** can you do? There’s no road back.”
Grandpa snorted and said; “My sentiments precisely. I don’t
******* know.”
Joshua thought that the subject was talked out, so he changed it saying; “So, let me make a wild guess. Becky gave you the ‘silver bullet’ and you stuck it in the drawer.”
“Oh, ****.”
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“Don’t worry. I won’t take it and I won’t tell anybody.
............. Actually, that wasn’t a bad idea. Who would look there?”
“You.”
“I don’t think so. I supposed that Becky would give it to you and I just saw you put it there.”
“Now I’ll have to move it. It’s hard to find a good spot.”
“Don’t do it on my account. I promised Becky that I would trust her and I will. I also promised her that I’d find a way out of this mess. That’ll be the hard part.”
Becky entered the kitchen and stood quietly next to the two men. Joshua asked; “May I have the rocket back. I’ll probably be getting some calls.”
She solemnly said; “Sure,” went back to her room and brought it back. She handed it to Joshua and he pocketed it with the other.
Joshua said; “I’ve got to try to clear my head,” and went out the door. He walked into the desert and when he got two miles from the house, took the rocket out and crumpled it in his hands in anger. As it was only the consistency of a light plastic, he broke it up easily and then used his controller to mash it into tiny particles, grinding it against the sole of his shoe. He mixed the particles with some sand and continued walking, dispersing some here and some there. The result was
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that it was now visually indistinguishable from the rest of the infinite supply of desert sand and he was pleased. He knew he could have easily disposed of it with his efficient and impersonal “silver bullet,” but he wanted the tactile pleasure of doing the job manually. He slowly walked back home temporarily satisfied with the “hands on” complete destruction of Ares, yet fully aware that the work remaining would prove a greater challenge.
He went to his room and flopped on the bed. He closed his eyes hoping to sleep, but was disturbed by Cronos’ voice saying;
“Come in. Come in.”
Joshua responded; “I’m here. I’m still here.”
As Cronos thought he had called to one of the transmitters on Ares’ rocket he was surprised to hear Joshua’s voice and said; “Where is Ares?”
“Is he supposed to be here?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen him. Maybe he didn’t land in Waco. Maybe he lost his memory like I did from the flight and is aimlessly wandering somewhere. That constant barrage of light-dark, light-dark does something to the brain. Or maybe he never made it.”
Cronos strongly suspected that Joshua was lying, but didn’t divulge his skepticism. He thought it likely that Joshua
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effectively disposed of Ares as he had hoped, but thought it imprudent and unproductive to infer that Joshua was being dishonest with him. What game was he playing? But he was glad that it was his man again on the job. He said; “All for the best. You’re in fine shape I take it.”
“My memory is back. I know what I’m supposed to be doing here.”
“Good, good. I’ll look forward to receiving regular reports from you.”
“Right.”
To falsely show that he believed Joshua’s story, he said;
“Keep an eye out for Ares. He can be tricky.”
“I definitely will.”
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