all god's orphans
Chapter 91

Wallace moved as fast as he could, dragging Grey by the arm. Kite stumbled after them, losing sight of them at several turns as they made their way down hallways that all looked the same.

“Wait!” Grey pleaded trying to wrest himself out of Wallace’s grip.

“We can’t.” Growled Wallace, pulling him onward. Every so often, Wallace would stop and look for a sign, then start off again in another direction. Grey understood that he was looking for something specific. At last they burst through two doors and into what looked like a strange movie theater. At the front of the large room were three gigantic screens surrounded by dozens of smaller screens. The gallery was composed of rows of desks, each filled with computers and monitors blinking to life at different intervals.

To the side was a small office enclosed in glass and full of other computers. Wallace yanked Grey inside and punched a large red button on the wall. As he did so, the doorway through which they had entered slammed shut with finality and a hatch began to open in the wall. As it flipped down slowly, Grey could see another computer inside surrounded by various communication devices. Wallace was now fixated on that computer and was ignoring him.

Finally Kite caught up to them, but she couldn’t open the door. She pounded her hands against it. Grey rushed to the handle, but it wouldn’t budge a millimeter.

“Grey!” Cried Kite.

“Wallace.” Grey said. “Open the door.” Wallace was typing furiously on the keypad and made no indication that he had heard Grey. Grey crossed the room and stood beside him. “Open the door, Wallace. Kite is trapped outside.” Wallace kept typing, his fingers flying across the keyboard.

“I’m sorry, Grey.” He said plainly. “I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t?” Wallace didn’t take his eyes off the screen.

“Once those doors shut, they can’t be opened again without special authorization, which I don’t have.” The sound of the guns was getting closer.

“You locked her out there on purpose?” Grey was incredulous.

“I’m sorry, Grey.” Wallace repeated, but would still not look him in the eyes. Grey rushed back to the door.

“Kite. Find a place to hide!” He implored her. She looked back down the hall and saw more soldiers approaching, involved with a running gun battle behind them. She went to the front of the room and slipped under one of the desks, making herself as small as she possibly could.

“Why did you do that?” Grey asked as Wallace continued moving with a speed he had not yet displayed, his injuries no longer slowing him down, apparently. “Answer me!” Grey was losing his patience. “What are you doing?” He grabbed Wallace’s arm and jerked him away from the monitor.

“We don’t have time for this, Grey.” The urgency on Wallace’s face was enough to make Grey doubt himself.

“What are you doing?”

“I can’t tell you.” Wallace went back to his task. He bounced back and forth between the system hidden in the wall and one of the many computers in the room.

“Just once, tell me the goddamn truth.” Grey was tired of all the lies and deceitfulness. It seemed to surround everything. No one was safe.

“The truth doesn’t mean much these days.” Said Wallace without slowing down.

“What are you talking about?”

“If we don’t stop the general now,” Said Wallace, still working feverishly. “He will use this facility to coordinate his army and consolidate power. He’ll become the strongest voice in this country. The only voice. There won’t be anyone to challenge what he says. If that happens, he will re-make society in his image. Those executions you say you witnessed? That will become the norm. He wants a dictatorship. We have to stop him.”

“How are you going to do that?” Grey asked but Wallace said nothing. Suddenly a voice popped from the small screen where Wallace stood.

“This is a secure channel for emergencies. Identify yourself.” Said a man in uniform who suddenly appeared on the monitor.

“This is Captain Frank Wallace. Passcode 018-377. I need immediate connection to command. I am requesting the seventh trumpet on my position.” Whatever those words meant, they caused an immediate shift in the man on the screen.

“Wai…what?” He suddenly sat up straight. “Say again.”

“You heard what I fucking said!” Wallace snapped. “Get me to Centcom.”

“Ok. Ok.” The other man began to type. “Just give me a second.”

“What are you going to do?” Grey asked in a low voice. In the distance, they could hear gunfire, but a strange quiet took hold between them.

“I’m sorry, Grey.” Said Wallace. “I’m sorry you got dragged into this. And I’m sorry for what happens next.” His tone chilled Grey to his core.

“What happens next?” Asked Grey, afraid of the answer. Just then, the Mormon forces burst through the doors of the operations center, bullets chasing them. They desperately fanned out looking for any cover they could and ignoring the glass box where Grey could only watch in horror as a firefight erupted. The Mormons were shooting back down the hallway, taking refuge behind the ranks of computers and desks. From where he was standing, he couldn’t see what they were shooting at, but he could tell that they were outnumbered. The thick glass of the smaller office muffled the noises and made Grey feel like he was merely watching this happen on a screen. He tried to catch a glimpse of Kite to see if she was unhurt, but he could see nothing. After a few seconds, the shooting stopped and a strange stillness descended on the room. The air was stained with the smell of cordite as Grey pressed himself against the glass trying to see Kite. Suddenly, the screen where Wallace stood suddenly flicked to a new image. This time, a much more severe man’s face filled the screen. He was probably Grey’s age and his collar displayed a bird with open wings.

“This is Colonel Malick, commander of Centcom, North American division. With whom am I speaking?” His voice cut through the fog of gunpowder like a clarion.

“Sir,” Began Wallace. “My name is Captain Wallace. I’m with the 2nd Civilian Airborne Supply Wing out of Kansas.”

“I understand that you’re calling in a strike on your current position?”

“Yes, sir.” Confirmed Wallace as the general began taking an interest in their conversation. “I am surrounded by a group of confederates being led by a self-appointed general. They have forces throughout the eastern part of the United States and are currently fighting a Mormon contingent out of Utah for control of NORAD.” The soldiers who had taken cover now noticed this strange scene taking place, but the threat of more gunfire kept them in place. Grey could see them exchanging confused looks among themselves.

“You understand what you’re asking for, captain?” Asked Malick, his voice as hard as a granite tombstone.

“I do, sir.” Wallace replied. The colonel fell silent for a moment and then nodded.

“Very well.” Said the colonel after a moment. “Stand by. This might take a few minutes. I am transferring the codes and command of Cheyenne’s systems to you.” Wallace nodded. He glanced up at Grey and tried to replaces the words to express what he was feeling, but there were none. Behind Grey, Wallace saw a tiny canister being lobbed into the room. It hit the ground with a pop and began hissing as voluminous white smoke filled the outer room.

Grey could see several men enter the operations center with gas masks and make their way forward as the Mormons stumbled in the fog coughing and hacking. The men with guns yelled for them to get down and drop their weapons. Most did, but others, either thinking they were Rambo or simply not thinking about anything except breathing, were gunned down unceremoniously.

At once, an alarm sounded and rotating yellow lights threw a strange glow over everything as vents began to inhale the cloud and clear the room. In just a few moments, the air was clean again and the general’s men rounded up the Mormons, putting them in one corner near the front of the room. Kite sat with them, confused and scared, but uninjured. Grey said a silent prayer of thanks to the universe.

Grey saw two soldiers snap to attention and before he could wonder what was going on, general Joseph Atwood entered the room, a silver .45 in his right hand. He took one look around and then spotted Grey in the small office.

“Grey!” He exclaimed. “I have to say it. I’m impressed. Where’s Millie? I need to give that girl a hug.” Grey stood up straight.

“You stepped over her body to get in here.” This seemed to hit the general harder, which surprised Grey.

“That’s a shame.” He said to the floor. “A damn shame. She was a good gal. Damn smart, too. We’re gonna miss her for the next phase.” The general spotted Wallace at the wall, still messing with the terminal. “Hey!” Called the general. “What are you doing back there?” But Wallace ignored him. “What’s he doing?” He asked Grey who simply shrugged. “Open this door, Grey.” The general demanded.

“I can’t.” Grey replied. The general cocked the hammer on his pistol.

“I’m gonna count to three and then I’m gonna shoot it, Grey.” Grey took a step behind one of the desks. “Fine.” Sighed the general. “Have it your way.” With that, he fired a single round into the glass door, which flexed under the impact, but didn’t shatter. The general then fired three more rounds in quick succession, but the door stood firm. He couldn’t even see where the rounds had hit it. Wallace paid none of this any mind as he went from one computer to the next pressing buttons and entering codes. The colonel’s face appeared again.

“Captain Wallace.” He said. “You should have the trumpet and all command controls on your end.”

“Confirmed.” Said Wallace, still working manically as though his life depended on it.

“Godspeed, captain.” Said Colonel Malick.

“Who is he talking to?” The general asked Grey. “Tell him to hang up.”

“I don’t think he’s going to listen to me.” Grey said. One of the general’s men had found Kite and dragged her to the front of the operations center.

“Look what we have here, Grey.” Said the general. “I’m going to make this real easy for you. Shut that computer off or I’ll shut your girlfriend off.” He grabbed her by the arm and placed the .45 to her head. “I don’t want to do this.” He said, and seemed to genuinely mean it. “But I really don’t have a choice.” Unfortunately, he also seemed to genuinely mean that, as well. Wallace was still not paying attention, and Grey moved slowly to the M4 that Wallace had tossed aside when they entered the room. He picked it up and pointed it at the computer in the wall, and by extension, Wallace.

“Move, Wallace.” Grey said. Wallace turned to face him.

“Grey, put that down.” Wallace said, trying to sound firm but kind.

“Step aside.” Grey repeated. Wallace straightened his spine.

“Don’t do this, Grey.” He said. “There’s a much bigger world than you understand and this needs to happen.”

“I’m gonna count to three, again, gentlemen.” Said the general as the blood stopped flowing in Grey’s veins.

“Get out of my way.” Grey said.

“One.”

“Don’t do it.” Wallace pleaded.

“Two.”

“We all have to sacrifice, Grey.” Wallace pressed a few more keys on the keypad.

“Three.” A quick three round burst barked forth from the M4 as Wallace dove to the side. The shock of it all caused Grey’s hands to jerk to the left as the rounds impacted the computer and shattered it into smoke.

“Well done.” The general said and eased his grip on Kite while lowering his gun. Groans began to rise from the spot where Wallace lay and as Grey rounded the side of one of the desks, he could see that two of the rounds had struck Wallace in the torso, one piercing his shoulder and the other closer to his sternum.

“Jesus!” He shrieked and dropped the gun, kneeling beside Wallace. “I’m so sorry, Wallace!” He begged, cradling his head. “I didn’t mean to shoot you! It was an accident.” Wallace clutched at his wounds as blood seeped from the corner of his mouth. His breathing had become a thin wheeze as air struggled to enter and exit his lungs.

“That fucking hurts!” Wallace grimaced, fighting to breathe. “That really hurts.” He grabbed Grey’s arm. “Listen to me. You have to launch it.”

“Launch what? What are you talking about?”

“You have to trust me, Grey.” Wallace coughed up blood. “We have to stop him.” It was a strange thing, holding a dying man. Wallace’s eyes seemed incapable of deception at this point. All of his energy was focused on Grey. “Hit any key. Launch it, Grey. It’s the only way.” Wallace’s head lolled backwards and the rasping in his chest stopped. Grey laid him gently on the floor and stood up, his brain spinning. All at once, every monitor in the place, even the three large screens at the front of the room, flashed to life and was filled with Colonel Malick’s stern visage.

“What happened?” His voice exploded through every computer and every speaker in the place, filling the entire operations center with his voice. “Where is Captain Wallace?” He demanded. Grey’s shaking hands dropped the rifle.

“He’s dead.” His voice trembled. “It was an accident. I didn’t mean…” Something about Grey drew Malick’s attention.

“Who are you?” He asked. “What’s your name?”

“Grey.” He answered robotically.

“Are you sure about that?” Malick asked with no explanation.

“And who might you be?” The general addressed the oversized screens.

“That doesn’t concern you, general.” His tone made it clear that he did not believe for a second that Joe Atwood held any such rank. “Grey.” He continued. “I have transferred control to the computers in that room. You must complete Captain Wallace’s mission.”

“Don’t listen to him, Grey.” Said the general. “Just open these doors and we can all walk out of here together, your special lady friend and all. I’ll even let your friends go free. All you have to do is open the doors.”

“If you do that,” Continued Malick. “Captain Wallace will have died for nothing. He gave his life because he believed it was necessary to prevent further bloodshed.”

“He’s lying.” Said the general. “He’s with them. Goddamn government. Always trying to control the population. They failed. It’s time for something new.” Malick’s eyes darted to the general for a moment.

“You think government failed?” Asked Malick. “A government is only as good as its people. Speaking of which, allow me to illuminate your dark world, Grey. According to Cheyenne’s security logs, your real name is Senator Myron Starr, senior senator from the great state of Alabama.” With that, the screens, all of them, switched to an image of Sen. Myron Starr (R) – Alabama, in the middle of an impassioned speech on the floor of the United States Senate. Below the image, the chyron read, “Sen. Starr speaks against giving immigrants the same rights as citizens.” In his dark suit and red tie, the clean-shaven man on the screen barely resembled Grey, but it was clearly him.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” He was saying. “Are we seriously considering giving immigrants in this country illegally, the same protections we afford our own citizens? My God, what’s next? Letting them have food stamps and student loans? We need to start taking care of our people. If those who have snuck into our country don’t like it, then they can go back to wherever the Hell they came from.” The image cut to two people presumably dissecting his speech.

“Senator Harmon, your thoughts?” Said the head on the left side of the screen to the head on the right.

“Well I have to say, it’s disappointing that my Senate colleague is misrepresenting the constitution here. Nowhere does it say that the constitution applies only to citizens. In fact, the constitution governs the treatment of all people wherever the laws of the United States have jurisdiction, irrespective of citizenship.”

The image flickered again and a new one replaced it. This time the senator was being interviewed by some national network on the rights of the transgendered.

“No, Ruth, I disagree. It is a big deal.” He was admonishing the host. “When my wife Lily and I go to the Wal-Mart to do our grocery shopping and she needs the ladies’ room, I want to know that there are no men in drag going into that ladies’ room. I don’t want her to be the victim of some sexual deviant.”

“Senator Starr,” The host was saying. “You’ve said before that homosexuality is, to use your words, ‘deviant behavior’. Does that mean you would want a separate bathroom for lesbians?” The senator chuckled mirthlessly.

“Ruth, you’re trying to confuse the issue here. The issue is that we all know women belong in the…uh, ladies’ room. And men belong in the mens’ room, plain and simple.” The image flickered again. Starr was on another show, surrounded by graphics of waving flags and floating words, being interviewed by a man whose head took up nearly the entire screen.

“I’m joined now by the man who made those ‘inflammatory’ remarks about Muslims, Senator Myron Starr. Senator, thanks for joining us this evening. Are Muslims really a threat to western society?”

“Of course they are, Sean.” Said the well-coifed version of Grey. “Everywhere you look, you see Islamic fundamentalism eating away at the fabric of society. They want laws based on their religion. They want to deceive the west as to their actual goal. I’m not making this up. It says in the Koran that Islam does not give ground once it has taken that ground. We are looking at a fundamental assault on our way of life and we have to stop it by any means necessary.” The screen went dark for a second, and in the black mirror created by the monitor, Grey saw himself reflected. The words hung in the air and the look on Kite’s face was pained and confusion. He wanted to tell her that this wasn’t him. That he didn’t think those things anymore. He couldn’t even remember being that man.

“You see?” Said Malick, his face replacing those painful images. “Government wasn’t the problem. It was ignorance. It’s always been ignorance.” Grey’s eyes fell to the floor before daring to look at Kite. The pain on her face was almost too much for him to bear. She knew in that moment, that she would never have loved the man he used to be and he could see that in her eyes. He couldn’t argue with her. After all, he didn’t even recognize the man he used to be, let alone love him.

“I knew you looked familiar.” The general seemed downright pleased. “You’re one of us, Grey. We can build a better world. Don’t waste this opportunity. You can’t just throw something like this away.” Grey glanced down at the console. Tiny white letters floated on a black screen as the cursor blinked rhythmically at the end of the line. He couldn’t read it, and wasn’t sure what it did, but he could read Kite. He saw the pain he had caused her, the pain the general had caused everyone. He remembered the executions. All of the death that the general had brought. It chilled him to imagine this continuing.

Wallace’s body lay at his feet and he thought of how bravely he had faced his death. Whatever was going to happen if he pressed that key, it hadn’t been enough to frighten Wallace away from taking that action. Was he that brave?

“Don’t do it.” Said the general. “Think of your lady here. Think of yourself! You could have everything.” In that moment, Grey understood it all and so did Kite. They locked eyes and everything else in the room disappeared. She smiled like the Mona Lisa, shut her eyes, and nodded.

“We all have to sacrifice.” Said Grey and pressed the button.

“No!” Screamed the general, causing his men to flinch, but nothing happened. For a few seconds, nothing continued to happen and Grey wondered if he had done something wrong. On the screens, Malick’s face fell and his eyes dropped. Then it began.

Far in the distance, a tiny, shrill sound began to grow. It seemed to come from everywhere, and as it grew, it changed tone and tenor. A small clicking sound, like a metronome going at full speed rose beneath it all and the vibrations extended to the very air. Shortly, the sound had grown louder than seemed possible and it began to hurt, bringing everyone to their knees. The general doubled over as the modulating pitch filled his entire head and seemed to push outward from the inside of his skull. His eyes began to throb and he assumed blood was pouring from his ears, but there was none.

Then, impossibly, another sound pierced all the others. It was a pitch so far beyond anything they had ever experienced and it felt like a grain of sand had shot through their ears at the speed of light, leaving a tiny perfect hole through their head. Through that hole began to flood another sound, this one golden and sonorous. It felt like it was made of pure light. Louder and louder it grew, drowning out all the others and filling the general’s head with a warmth that started at the base of his skull and spread up and forward to his sinuses. It was as though he suddenly had a searchlight in his brain.

Every image in his memory lit up and he was surrounded by perfect pictures from his life, all floating in a dark red abyss. He saw things from his childhood, memories he had long since forgotten, now present and shining from within. Each vision was perfect in its clarity and he wanted to stay here, lost in his own mind. Then, the sound stopped. When it did, all of the images faded into the darkness. One moment, they were all there in startling perfection and the next, they were slipping away. And then they were gone, leaving only the red, corpuscular darkness behind. The general stared into the dark, convinced that there had been something there just a moment ago. He had seen it. He knew what it was, but now there was nothing. And soon after that, he’d forgotten there had been anything at all.

Exhaustion fell over him and pressed him to the floor, no one was left standing and the stillness that fell over it all was nearly absolute. The signal had been broadcast over every speaker system in the Cheyenne Mountain complex, leaving a litter of bodies behind, all lying on the floor, eyes closed in peaceful slumber. In the operations center, a loud buzz sounded and the bulletproof door to the smaller office clicked. The sound of it woke Grey, his eyes were slow to focus and he wasn’t sure where he was.

Slowly, he pulled himself to his feet. Beyond the glass, Kite had just found her feet as well. They saw each other and ran to the door.

“Kite!” Exclaimed Grey as she rubbed her temples. He pushed on the door with all his weight, but it didn’t budge. Using the M4 as a hammer, he slammed its butt against the glass, but still it did not move. Disgusted and angry, he threw it to the ground. Casually, almost delicately, Kite reached out a hand to the door and gently pushed it open. She burst through the doors and into Grey’s arms.

“Are you all right?” She asked. “What happened? Are they all dead?”

“No.” Said the omnipresent voice of Colonel Malick, his face suddenly everywhere. “They’re not.”

“What did you do?” Grey demanded to know, but Malick seemed disinterested in Grey’s anger.

“Gave them a fresh start.” He said. “A new beginning.”

“It was you?” Kite asked, the realization dawning on her. “You did all of this? You’re the reason none of us can remember anything?” The implications were staggering. “How? Why?”

“You still don’t know?” Malick asked. “Humanity was self-destructing. Men like the general, or Senator Starr had sold out mankind for gold. They were destroying our planet. Reducing our society to functionally illiterate consumers, all for their own benefit. We had to stop them.”

“And this is how you chose to do it?” Grey could not believe it.

“Of course not.” Malick stated. “First, we tried to warn everyone, but no one listened. Then we tried screaming, and everyone just called us crazy. They watched the world change for the worse and decided we were the bad guys. We were trying to stop it. They couldn’t accept it. It’s easy, you see, to dismiss hard truths in favor of comforting lies. We couldn’t afford that luxury. There was no time left. So we banded together to do what we had to do.”

“Steal our minds?” Grey said.

“No!” Snapped Malick. “We set your minds free. You’re now unencumbered by everything that had held our species back. Fear. Superstition. Dogma. Nationalism. Racism. It’s all gone.”

“Along with everything else.” Kite observed.

“I don’t expect you to understand.” Malick said. “Your world is brand new. You don’t remember the horrors of the old world. What we stopped. Every single nuclear missile on earth is headed for the sun. Do you understand? There isn’t a single war anywhere on this planet right now. For the first time in history, there is peace across the entire globe.”

“So now what?” Grey had heard this pitch from the general, too. “Are you going to re-make the world in your image?”

“No.” Malick said simply. “We can’t. You will have to re-make the world. You and others like you.”

“And if we don’t do it the way you want, you’ll erase us again?” Grey was angry.

“It won’t work twice.” Malick replied. “After the first time, the cilia in your ears break. They can no longer detect the glial frequency. It’s on you now. Don’t fuck it up again.” With that, the screens all went black. Kite reached out for Grey’s hand and they stood there holding each other in the belly of the mountain.