Jacob's Trouble 666 is a novel by Terry, which was published a number of years ago. It tells the story of Jacob Zen, a young, lower echelon U.S. government official, who is forced to take on staggering responsibilities, when millions of people vanish, and his world begins coming apart. Terry wanted to share with you this fictionalized account of the Rapture and of the first part of the Tribulation era in serialized form. Although it is fiction, it is a story that could take on startling reality with your very next breath, because Christ's shout: "Come up hither" (Rev 4:1) could happen at any moment!
Chapter 14
"I can't see where this thing will criple our ability to think and plan our way out. A very significant factor to think about, I believe, is that the Russians are out of the way now. So there are great and good things that can come out of all this chaos -- that have already come out of it, for that matter."
Henry Laxton's normally solemn demeanor was upbeat, and he looked and sounded like a caricature of himself while he spoke to Lawrence Thorton in the Washington studio.
"Like practically eliminating the nuclear threat, for example?" Thorton said.
"That's right. It's probably the greatest thing to happen, in diplomatic terms, in history. Everybody's been looking for, praying for, a way to get all sides to the negotiating tables on that one most crucial issue. We have been trying for decades to find a common ground where we can put away self-interests, and, together, find our way out of the nuclear nightmare."
"This phenomenon has, if nothing else, drawn into focus exactly how closely knit the family of man is, and how essential it is that a joint effort be made."
"And you know, Larry, one of the most amazing aspects of the phenomenon is the fact that many, many of those who opposed our New Age marvels, and opposed those visionary technologies that offer so much hope, were taken in the cosmic disturbance. I don't mean to sound cruel or like an occultist or religionist, but by fate, or whatever, the road that can lead us to a peaceful, productive future has been cleared of much of its congestion."
"Thank you, Mr. Secretary," the journalist said, turning to face the camera. "And that, we are told, is basically what the telecast from Brussels is to be about. That broadcast coming up in..." He looked to a clock on one wall of the studio then back into the camera's lens, "...about five minutes from now."
Out of habit, Jacob started to glance at his left wrist, but remembering the missing watch, looked at Melisa Jantzen's table clock. 7:O1. Six minutes faster than Thorton's clock; the broadcast was scheduled for 7:00.
Fingering the Naxos videotape he had not yet viewed, his mind zagged between wanting to have a look at it and wondering what would be forthcoming from Brussels. He got up from the sofa and walked into the bedroom.
"Melisa..." He shook the girl gently and spoke quietly. "It's time."
She lurched upward at his touch, her face open-mouthed with fright.
"It's okay... It's okay," he said. Her expression softened and she relaxed. "You wanted me to wake you at seven."
"I must've been dreaming something awful. I can't remember what," she said sleepily, pressing against his chest and wrapping her arms around him while he sat on the bed beside her. He wanted to cradle her, to reassure her. Nothing lustful in his motive, just a momentary feeling. But when she pulled his face downward, forcing his lips to hers, he felt the embrace meant more to her.
"They won't hold up the broadcast for us, I'm sorry to say." He broke their kiss, but bent to again brush her lips lightly with his, saying with his eyes he did not disapprove of the invitation, only its timing.
From the living room, the voice of Lawrence Thorton announced that the U.S. networks were joining Euronetwork in a live broadcast from Brussels. Melisa followed Jacob to the sofa, from which they watched hundreds of men and women mill about in the huge Parliament chamber of the U.E.S. headquarters building.
At first, the camera swept the delegates, then drew back to frame the entire chamber. Far away, a colorfully attired figure walked slowly toward the lectern on the vast podium. The camera zoomed in on the figure until only he filled the television screen in Melisa Jantzen's apartment.
A man in religious robes of white, red, gold and purple, with medallions, shaped-like crosses and unfamiliar symbols, suspended against his breast by gold chains. A tall, gleaming headdress sat atop his head, while he moved to the ornate lectern and held aloft a scepter, which glinted in the beams of brilliant light radiating from the ceiling.
As if the raising of the scepter was a signal, the people stood and applauded, while the television cameras captured their ecstatic expressions from many angles. The religious man's face and diadem filled the screen in a ghost image over the mass of people. Still cameras flashed and strobe-like lights illuminated the ecclesiastical figure and the men and women of the audience, while the applause increased, along with shouts of approving exultation.
"Is that the Pope?" Melisa said, not taking her eyes from the scene.
"Him, too?" Jacob said, concluding with disappointment that even this man, probably the best loved pontiff in history, had been taken in by the Naxos lot. Maybe not. Perhaps His Holiness would now make the announcement that the plot had been uncovered — that the murderous, would-be rulers, of what was left of the world, had been forced out of their Naxos burrow, and the rest of humanity could now safely come out into light again. This earthy, humble, though brilliant man, whom he had personally met at the Vatican, who had made him feel genuinely loved, could not be a part of the monster. Not unless the pontiff thought the monster to be something other than what it was.
Still, the religious man stood receiving the accolades, the scepter held aloft in his right hand, holding the other hand above his head in a symbolic gesture of humble acceptance and gratitude.
"His Holiness looks to be enjoying his first public appearance since succeeding his predecessor," Lawrence Thorton said from the D.C. studio, while the applause continued.
Of course! Jacob thought. So much attention had been given to the calamities caused by the disappearance phenomenon, there was no time for hoopla about the changes at the Vatican! This was not the same Pope, the man he knew.
"There is gathered in that great hall, probably the largest, most diverse cross-section of the world's nationalities ever assembled anywhere at any time. Even the United Nations has never seen anything like it. From just about every known country, representatives have come, at the request of this new Pope. Every religion, including Christian, Buddhist, Muslim, Hindu, and the many sects and denominations within those great religions, as well as many reclusive, little known cults, have come at the request of His Holiness."
Thorton was silent for 20 seconds, letting the video and the noise of the adoring throng, within the great hall of the U.E.S., put across to the viewer the exultation of this historic moment. Finally the crowd began to quiet.
"We don't know what language His Holiness will use, or whether he will speak more than one language — he is a master of many. Whichever he chooses, those in attendance at Brussels, and we here, will have the benefit of instantaneous translation, thanks to the recent breakthroughs in computer-language vocoder technology, which can almost exactly duplicate the speaker's own voice tone, after translating the meanings of his words." "Greetings!" the holy man said in mildly-accented English, smiling when the mass of people before him responded with a tumultuous, synchronized shout. "It is past time that we come together as one!" Again, a single shout of response. "Now... Let us begin anew!" The people were on their feet before the pontiff could finish his sentence. A sustained, frenzied show of acceptance. The screen in Melisa Jantzen's apartment was imaging the Brussels' camera work that combined a series of quick-cuts, dissolves and super-over impositions, which captured the spirit of oneness raging within the chamber. The man drew his hands into a palms-together position, holding the scepter erect between them, and bowed toward the representatives while maintaining the prayerful pose. The exuberance was infectious, drawing one into its excitement. The talk of oneness; of the brotherhood of man; of beginning anew. All deceptions of the most insidious kind, promising a bright future — all problems solved — perfection.
Maybe this religious man really did believe, but Jacob knew the price for the proffered paradise. He had experienced the Utopian bill collectors. The memory of their painful tactics made it easy to churn his own hatred back to the surface, while the eager, accepting faces beamed glowingly toward the pontiff, who now stood with his hands clasped before his bowed face.
Jacob watched the faces, those bright faces, effulgent in the television lights while the cameras panned up and down the aisles. They differed in expressions from all the faces he had seen since that night the secret service agent's face vanished from the car's rearview mirror. Absent was the fear, the apprehensions. As if they knew something other faces of the world did not know. And somehow, in an instant of fleeting foreknowledge, Jacob, too, knew what those faces at Brussels held secreted away behind their glowing, jubilant facades. This religious man who stood before them, had the map that would, they thought, lead them out of the greatest world crisis ever. He was about to introduce them to the system, the person, who had the answers.
"How could the Pope be mixed up in government that would be cruel to people? They wouldn't have selected a man who wasn't concerned about people, about human rights. He couldn't be a part of a dictatorship, could he?"
"Not if he knew the things I know. Not, and be the kind of man everybody thinks he is."
Jacob's confusion was no less than Melisa's. Popes were regarded as the world's great champions of social justice, constantly putting forward the principle that man is responsible for taking care of man, and that the individual's rights must not suffer at the hands of any collective will. That society must serve the individual, not the other way around. Yet this man had apparently thrown his lot in with those who spit on that principle.
"Maybe he's decided the Naxos idea is the lesser of evils. That what they're offering is better than the chaos we have now," Jacob said, thinking that the real answer was that this Pope had been fooled by the promise that once things were under control a more humane rule could be instituted. One which served rather than oppressed. His Holiness had not experienced the real character of the Naxos assassins.
It ran through his mind that Melisa might be questioning his own truthfulness. "Are they after him because he is the one actually at fault? Is he the real liar in all this?" He imagined her asking herself. It was easy enough to understand how she could be entertaining such suspicions from the glorious appeal gushing from the Brussels meeting.
He looked at her profile in the brightness projecting from the screen. No. There was no easy acceptance of what was going on in the U.E.S. Council Chamber. Unlike the faces at Brussels, there was still apprehension on hers. With him, she was in the presence of flesh and blood. One whom she could touch, receive comfort from. Despite the broadcast's appeal, it was an unembraceable appeal that could not solve her hurts.
"We have come to a most crucial time in man's history," the holy man said when the noise quieted. "A most terrible time. And yet, a most opportune time. For we hold in our hands the ability to destruct our world in a moment of nuclear insanity, or to destroy it through years of slow deterioration. At the same time, we have the capability to build heaven on earth. Does it not make better sense, human, common sense, to choose the course of life, rather than make the choice of extinction for the human race?"
Again, the great hall at Brussels erupted in deafening applause and shouts of agreement, while the video presented the faces of the hundreds of world representatives.
"There is, I am convinced with all my heart, one sent from God to lead us upon that sensible path that will take us into the prophesied millennium. And, this servant, I am equally convinced, has been given 'The Plan' drawn directly by God's hand. A plan as divinely appointed as the Ten Commandments and all the great truths God has given mankind throughout the ages. Give your ears and your hearts to this, God's servant."
The Pope put his palms together and addressed his deity, face raised toward the ceiling.
"Oh great Father, the Light of the universe. Grant your Son the power to lead in this hour of trouble. Grant, too, the understanding of us all and give us the will to accept what thou hast for us through Thy divine hand upon this your chosen one, whom you have borne into this world to lead the way into Thy eternal kingdom. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen."
The prayer concluded, the pontiff waited for the audience to settle, his robed arms stretched forward, his white hands gripping the edges of the lectern's top.
"My friends, my children... God's man for this critical hour!"
Spotlights near the stage swung their beams from the pontiff and crisscrossed, their large circles of light congruently fixing on a human figure approaching the lectern from the darkened area behind the platform. A striking masculine form in a dark suit, whose quick, graceful stride was of youth. He smoothed the suitcoat near the hips while he walked, reaching then to take the hand of the Pope, who met him enthusiastically.
There seemed an unnatural stillness in the chamber while the men held hands briefly in the circle of light, then broke their grasp. The holy man issued the other toward the lectern with a gesture of his right hand. The camera zoomed in for a close-up, and, as Jacob expected, the young man was Herrlich Krimhler, a somber expression on his handsome face.
The Pope was smiling broadly and saying something to Krimhler the microphones could not pick up. The audience responded at first with a few scattered handclaps, then, more sure of what their response should be, released their feelings in a frenzy of cheering and applause.
Krimhler stood behind the lectern, acknowledging with generous, though controlled, smiles and slight nods of his head to his right, his left, and to those directly in front of the lectern. He began in the familiar, slightly accented baritone that charismatically commanded the attention of all whose ears the famous voice fell upon.
"We have indeed reached, as His Holiness said, 'a terrible moment in man's history.' Yet a moment of magnificent opportunity. A time which, I assure will never again be ours. For in the words once spoken by a great leader, 'Man holds in his mortal hands the power to abolish all forms of human poverty, and all forms of human life.' And, as John Kennedy also said, 'Asking His blessings, and His help, but knowing that here on earth, God's work must truly be our own.'
"That is the message I bring to you, my friends of the global community. This is the hope that rests within our own God-given capabilities. To be... To really be... or not to be." Krimhler held an index finger aloft and paused, looking about the vast chamber at the many faces held in the grip of his words. "Ahhh...That is truly the question of our precarious time, my brothers and sisters of the world-family. What shall it be? The joining of hands and hearts and minds to eradicate poverty, disease, crime, hunger, natural catastrophes, and war? Or will we begin again to take the same path mankind has taken for so long? That of self-serving nationalism? Thus, all of the scourges that such a course brings with it, ending in nuclear holocaust. And, as His Holiness said, 'extinction as a species' — the end of the greatest drama God has allowed mankind to act out. Only we can write the next chapter. Only we can begin writing the most glorious chapter of all!"
No wavering on the part of this man who would be savior, who inspired certainty that he could deliver what the Pope promised - leadership out of the calamitous mess in which the world found itself. That inspiration showed in reflected belief from the faces at Brussels. Krimhler was in the process of activating the germ of noble aspiration, which all people who were sane harbored dormant in their core-beings. The German was able, Jacob knew now, to cause those coming under his influence to ignite others in a chain reaction that would ultimately link all together in the promised global familyhood. But, it would be a linkage in the form of manacles, because in order for that global design to succeed, stumbling blocks had to be removed, of which, Jacob Zen was one.
"My fellow passengers on spaceship earth, is it not time we put aside the prejudices and biases separating the family of man one from the other... a separation which would soon bring us to that Armageddon so long predicted by the myopic doomsdayers? Instead, should we not concentrate on the things common to all? The good, productive things... The human things which are the inherent right of every citizen of our world community to enjoy?
"Make no mistake, if we do not take action beginning here, beginning now, and there is no one else to take action for us, we will be forever lost. The ultimatum is, build a great and glorious world in which there are none of the plagues humanity has endured since the moment man stood erect and began recording human events... or else disintegrate in the future fireballs of our own creative folly, and be consumed in the blackness of nuclear winter. There is no turning back. The Great Universal Mind, who issues the ultimatum, has also provided the technology and intellectual capability through which man can solve his potentially fatal dilemmas.
"Do not worry for now about what has happened... about why millions have vanished. Be assured that the great giver of all knowledge will put into each and every mind, individually, the acceptance of what has happened, as each becomes individually able to comprehend. I will say, for now, only that for some who are gone from our midst, it is a great evolutionary reward, while for others it is, sadly, punishment for false teaching of things about the Father of all. Most crucially, we must understand that although this phenomenon seems a tragedy, it is in fact God's gift to His creation, offering a new beginning, a purified pathway to a higher evolutionary order."
The German's piercing eyes, like when Jacob viewed the Naxos tapes, caused the feeling they were x-raying one's brain. That those black, intelligent orbs were invading, unveiling the soul. Krimhler stood with almost arrogant posture, surveying the silent, intensely attentive representatives, then turned his eyes again to the camera encased within its mobile, mechanized scaffolding just above the center aisle.
"I must tell you also, although the end result of the course the Great Universal Mind has prescribed will be glorious beyond imagination... that course will require many sacrifices from everyone. Those who refuse to live within lawful boundaries must be dealt with and shall be treated as not worthy of our love, of God's love. Let us begin by understanding this precept, yet... with the prayer in our hearts that there will be none among us who will be so unloving and so foolish as to test our resolve as we begin our march into the glorious New Age of, ultimately... perfection."
A gigantic reflective screen descended from the ceiling at mid-stage while Krimhler spoke. Its expanse covering the blackness that previously had framed the German and the lectern. Projected light streamed from above and behind the audience, lighting the screen with a graphic presentation which highlighted what Krimhler was saying.
"The Plan"
"The blueprint for perfecting mankind in a less sudden and less dramatic way than the great leap
into perfection in which our now ascended brothers and sisters participated... "The Plan" to make God's creation what he intended... I now give the world... INterfacel"
The screen above and behind the young German reflected the word: "Interface"
"INterface... the joining together of human to human... linking, through our self-created miracles, each to the other... Oneness!"
The screen above the platform was alive with brilliant visual effects. Krimhler's eyes seemed ablaze while the lights and colors burst, disturbing the general darkness of the chamber. "INterphase"
"And INterphase, the period of learning to live together as true children of God's Universal Family. The final evolutional period that will lead each to the godhood locked within the inner-self. INterphase... to consist of the Six Ways.
1. Terrorism and crime will dissolve into exemplary citizenship through joint effort and innovative discipline.
2. Poverty and economic chaos will be eliminated by working together to share abundance equally through computer disbursal ingenuity.
3. Hunger, like poverty, will be forever done away with through distribution of the wealth left by those who were taken in the great dissolution and evolutionary leap, plus, through sharing of the plenty. No more will there be Third-World nations.
4. Ecological disaster caused by floods, earthquakes, wind and fire, can and shall ultimately be overcome through human determination and divine help within our technologies.
5. Disease will be eradicated through intensive, concerted efforts of the world medical community.
6. Peace shall replace war as man learns to give rather than only to take. "This is the Six Ways design I give to you, my fellow citizens of the world."
With the six points outlined in huge letters upon the screen, Herrlich Krimhler gestured with a motion of his right hand toward the projected image, then turned to again grip the lectern and address his global audience.
"Every nation, every people is represented in this chamber. I appeal to each representative, on behalf of your people. Join in this effort... I implore you in the name of God. Endorse and embrace this gift of love, this gift of life and a future free from the threat of nuclear annihilation and all other of the horrible scourges outlined. It is mankind's last chance. Your only chance, my friends... My brothers and sisters." The graphic changed while Krimhler paused; he spoke again, his tone now grave, yet inspirational while his appeal rose to authoritative finality.
"Join with me. Together let us create the world God meant for you to have.
Six Ways to Law!
Six Ways to Order!
Six Ways to Peace!6! 6! 6!"
Jacob felt what he knew those at Brussels must be feeling, what everyone who heard the dynamic young German's words must be feeling at this moment. A coursing of excitement, causing eruptions of goosebumps. He, like they, wanted to believe, to accept what Krimhler was saying. So desperate was the plight of every human being who prayed for something to give them hope. But even now, with the goodwill gushing from the many representatives in the Brussels chamber, he knew better. Knew at the most primitive gut level that the price Krimhler was asking for Utopia was too great ~ more than anyone should have to pay. Herrlich Krimhler walked toward the blackness, the screen having ascended into the ceiling, and paused to shake the hand of the Pope before departing the platform. A noise, indecipherable at first but becoming clearer, the volume increasing. A chant by the representatives, who were on their feet now and clapping hands while they gave the incantation in English.
"Six Ways to Law!! Six Ways to Order!! Six Ways to Peace!! Six!! Six!! Six!!"
The audio and video from the television set in front of Jacob and Melisa was that emanating from Brussels. The image remained for several seconds, before Lawrence Thorton again took control in the Washington D. C. studio, his image superimposed through chromakey over the scene at Brussels.
"A most stirring and profound message," the newsman said, turning from watching a monitor to face the camera. "It would seem that the billions of people, represented by these national and religious leaders in attendance at U.E.S. Headquarters, will not have to pressure their leaderships into going along with this magnificent plan put forward by Herr Krimhler. I have never in my years of journalism seen such complete agreement or enthusiasm by such a diverse group of government officials as we are now witnessing. It seems also that Herr Krimhler has inadvertently created what it looks like might become the battle-cry for 'ThePlan' he tells us comes directly from God. As you can hear in the background, they are chanting, 'Six Ways to Law! Six Ways to Order! Six Ways to Peace!' and capping off the appeal with the words, 'Six, Six, Six.' Herrlich Krimhler's message comes as a welcome harbinger of hope at a time when we all need above all else, hope."
Jacob saw on Melisa's face the expression that asked if the journalist's words, if Krimhler's plan, could be a true effort at solving the world's great problems. The same question he fleetingly asked himself.
No! It could not! More than that, it was a lie! A wicked lie of the most cruel sort. A deception that dangled in front of a chaotic, terrified world, hope for a solution, while the deceivers were even now tightening their deadly coil around their billions of victims. How appropriate, he considered while lighting a cigarette and looking to the screen that displayed the almost gleeful face of Lawrence Thorton, that he should compare the Naxos group to a snake coiling around its victim, snuffing out freedom. Man was first deceived and enslaved by a serpent, according to the legend. Yes... Hugo Marchek would have appreciated the analogy.
"To the message given by the Pontiff, and by Herrlich Krimhler... I, on behalf of my fellow journalists throughout the world, say... 'Amen.' We will do our parts to disseminate that word of promise offered by the Six Ways Plan.
"INterface should become a part of our daily lives now. The Six Ways to Peace, our motto. One gets the feeling that we are indeed marching into a New Age, which will see the end of these six great scourges of man... Crime, poverty, hunger, ecological disaster, disease, and finally, war. Most of all, peace will replace war."
The network newsman looked to be in deep concentration; his tone was reasoning. "And the simple elegance of one part of 'The Plan' at which Herr Krimhler allowed us a brief look - that all wealth left behind by those gone in the dissolution will be distributed to the least of our brothers and sisters ~ demonstrates 'The P/an's' brilliance. It is a beautiful picture. A Biblical picture, really, of the commandment to 'love thy neighbor as thyself.' Let us make that principle a part of our daily lives. 'Do unto others, as we would have them do unto us.' Only give even more... always more than we receive.
"Now we will go to the East Room at the White House, and the swearing-in ceremony for Grant Horton Halifax as President of the United States."
Thorton turned again to the monitor. The ceremony was already underway, the Chief Justice holding the large Bible on which the right hand of Halifax rested.
"...faithfully swear to execute the duties of the office of the President of the United States, so help me God," said Halifax, who smiled and took the hand first of the Chief Justice, then, in turn, the hands of each of the men and women gathered nearby him in the East Room. The new President made his way to a cluster of microphones, faced the cameras and smoothed white pages of paper on the top of the small lectern. He waited for the rustle of the guests and reporters to quiet down before he began reading in the polished New England brogue.
"This is a bittersweet time for me. My wonderful friend, my President... is gone." There were tears in his eyes; he paused to regain control. "Herrlich Krimhler, another of my very dear friends and colleagues, has told us that many of those who have departed from us were taken to a grand cosmic reward, as was the destiny of those people at this dramatic juncture in universal history. Raymond Parley is surely in his heaven... the first to arrive... Smiling down on us and telling us to follow the dictates of the great cosmoginal mind... To heed the admonitions of God's man, Herrlich Krimhler. So I shall not mourn long for Raymond Parley's loss; rather, I shall celebrate his gain... and our opportunity to attain the same elevated state he now enjoys. That said, let us proceed. Let us, as Herrlich Krimhler said, and as John F. Kennedy before him said, 'make God's work here on earth truly our own.'"
The tears in Halifax's eyes dried as quickly as they came, and Jacob smiled inwardly, admiring the new President's ability to carry the act through with such obvious feeling; at the same time, he hated Halifax for what he knew the man was about to do.
"We, my fellow Americans, have the opportunity to invoke God's blessings by sharing in a way no other people on this planet can. We possess the technology to help assure each of our global brothers and sisters an equal right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness."
Jacob's face tingled, his anger and exasperation constricting his blood vessels, forcing the blood painfully into his eyes and forehead. The birthright of every American was about to be wiped out with a few spoken words. The Constitution of the greatest nation in the history of the world was about to be dissolved by this Judas. While the tears filled his own eyes, he tried to calm himself with the thought that the disappearance calamity had probably already done both things anyway.
"The good intentions of the great people of America shall no longer be doubted, because we will lead the way, take the first step, form the first link in the chain. Not a chain of bondage, but one of strength, which will assure true freedom by putting all our resources at the disposal of INterface. So, as President of the United States of America, I hereby invoke Executive Order 16,000 on behalf of the people of America for that purpose, and voluntarily offer this great nation to INterface Governing Council, within which I shall be Chief Deputy to Herrlich Krimhler, who has today been chosen INterface Chancellor. This does not abrogate any treaties between what was formerly the United States of America and any of her treaty partners; rather, it strengthens those treaties by bringing them under an umbrella of all nations who choose to link with the INterface network. Trade agreements will be treated likewise, that is, they will be considered part of INterface Commerce, assuring each trading family member equitable treatment, based on gross national productivity, under terms stipulated by INterface Governing Council."
Halifax shifted his tone and demeanor, obviously wanting to become more personal with his viewing audience. "And now, my fellow citizens of the United States... and I must begin using the terms 'brothers and sisters' because we can no longer afford the divisiveness of nationalism. So, my brothers and sisters of INterface, we will begin distributing, at no charge to you, the interpersonal computer equipment known as the INterface Response Unit, also referred to as 'INRU.'"
Halifax watched men in white coveralls wheel in the example device on a flat dolly, and park it beside the lectern so that the television camera could give the viewer a good look.
"Because the great numbers of people who have the UNTVUS can network with INterface to some extent, we will first concentrate on installing the INRU equipment in the homes and businesses which have only the obsolete computer units, as they are inadequate to interact on the level that will be required. In a short time, the old UNIVUS will be replaced by INterface Response Units in all remaining households and businesses, just as the European UNIVER systems will be replaced in Europe."
The new President, who would shortly abolish that office to become Herrlich Krimhler's Chief Deputy, spoke in a tone that pleaded for understanding and cooperation.
"Unlike when we instituted the UNIVUS, a system which during its time proved its usefulness a thousand times over, acceptance of this new system will be mandatory. If it were not so, if even a small portion refused to accept it, the networking effort would be harmed irreparably."
Jacob heard no more of Halifax's words. His thoughts, instead, were on the hatred he felt for this man who had sold his country for personal gain. He considered calmly, premeditatetively what he might do to oppose the dictatorship that was growing exponentially.
"It's all happening too fast for me," Melisa said, jarring him from his thoughts of righteous treachery. "But it's just like you said. It all seemed so fantastic when you first told me about what was happening."
"When people are panicked and desperate, it's easy to get them to accept a rope. Even one that has a noose on it. They're beginning to get hungry. They'll grab on to anything to keep from going under. This thing has been in the works for a long time. It took more than a day to build that complex at Naxos, that's for sure. If this so-called dissolution hadn't happened, they would've manufactured something, some crisis, in order to get what they wanted. I'm not sure whether they manufactured the disappearance. I don't know how they could've... but it came with perfect timing, didn't it?"
"The whole thing is crazy."
"More than crazy, Melisa. And there's more to it than a magician's trickery, more than merely sleight of hand. It's as if they really didn't have control over what happened, but were fully prepared Jo take advantage of the situation when it did happen. 1 know it doesn't make sense, but they are taking full advantage of the disappearance, and the destruction of the Russian military alliance."
Thirty minutes later, with the broadcasts from Washington and Brussels finished, and the soon-to-be Deputy Chancellor oflNterface Governing Council having promised to tell more at a future time about the new way of doing things, Jacob set the videocassette recorder for the Naxos tape he had not yet viewed. His head throbbed violently, like it had off and on since the rush of events began following the car crash when the agent vanished. Melisa rubbed the back of his neck while he fidgeted with the recorder, then walked toward a bedroom.
"I'll get some aspirin," she said; he pushed the play button and sat on the sofa.
He was not prepared for what he saw, and his vision darkened, his headache becoming lost in the emotionally dimming realization of what he was witnessing.
On the screen, close up and in stunning color, he and Fredria VanHorne were in the throes of passion. Their naked bodies writhing on Fredria's bed, slamming against each other at frenzied pace! Why had they taped them that night?! Blackmail? The clinical dissection went through his thought processes before the shock wore off, and his embarrassment and rage surfaced.
"Porno flick?" Melisa's question was put with amusement. "You....!" Her declaration was not.
He got up and turned the machine off, his face reddening as much from anger as from embarrassment. "Look. You don't want to see this. I don't know what it means or why they did this, but I've got to see if it leads somewhere."
"Oh, I'm sure it will. Let's watch together. Maybe I'll learn something, too."
"Suit yourself." He restarted the recorder, recounting silently their sexual activity that early morning in the Naxos apartment. Watching the almost unnaturally white bodies, whose undulations he, strangely, did not remember experiencing. He was relieved when after another 30 seconds the video cut to him and the girl sitting up in the bed sipping from glasses, which, he remembered, had contained screwdrivers. He was relieved further that there was no audio while he and Melisa watched the mouths of the man and woman move in conversation between sips.
"Who is she? Karen?"
"A girl I met at Naxos. Fredria VanHorne. A scientist in the project." "I can see you met her. What was she researching at the time? I can see who she was researching."
He held up his hand for quiet, fixing his concentration on the scene to which the video had just changed ~ Fredria standing naked over his own nude body.
He was asleep now, and she turned to face the camera after checking his eyes, and gave a signal that beckoned. Momentarily, two men wearing orange jumpsuits entered the room, walked to the bed and turned his body onto its stomach. The camera's angle changed from the one which had given view of the whole bed, to one more mobile, obviously involving someone with a hand-held camera, whose operator moved to shoot from different positions while Fredria VanHorne and the men worked over the body.
"What's going on? What are they doing to you?" Melisa said.
"I'm not sure, but I think I know." He again held up his hand for quiet, sitting forward to watch the uniformed men help the woman.
One of the men handed Fredria a small, square box, which she opened and from it removed a gleaming vial. Both men held the body still to prevent reflexive jerking, while Fredria VanHorne inserted a hypodermic needle into the vial and drew its contents into the syringe. When she injected the left arm, the video faded to black before resuming a new scene.
People in pastel green surgical garb worked beneath bright lights, their faces and mouths covered with surgical caps and face masks. An unseen narrator spoke in English, but with a German accent.
"The subject will be implanted with the most advanced biochip, which, as you know, consists of living cell properties being married to the chip, in this case, to form the most sophisticated biosensor yet devised. Our subject, a highly placed member of the American diplomatic community, will be monitored as to his location, as well as his biological functioning, that is, his respiration, et cetera, et cetera, so long as the chip is active. The device is activated by galvanic stimulation... electronic impulses from the subject's surrounding tissues. The sensor's internal battery is stirred to life and will remain activated for many years. Because the element is small and extremely resilient against damage, it will even survive the subject, should he come to his end violently through electric shock, fire, impact trauma, or any of a thousand ways. Its only limitation is that its signals weaken considerably from distances greater than 100 kilometers. It can still be tracked, and eventually found, for distances of thousands of kilometers, but it is as yet a very slow process. At such distances, it takes considerably longer to zero in on our chip."
On the screen were the surgically-gloved hands of two people, one holding the subject's head in a face-down position, the other one wielding a scalpel. The hand with the knife made an almost imperceptible cut on the scalp beneath the dark hair on the back of the head.
"The procedure takes only a moment, and is being done with such caution in this instance because this is our first major testing of the device. It must be conducted with utmost care, to assure its best chance for success. In this case, we must maintain the best possible controls to test our postulate."
The narrator paused for several seconds while the operation proceeded, then the animated voice continued. "Later, we can do the procedures on a run-them-in and run-them-out basis. As you can see, the wound is so tiny that the subject will think it no more than perhaps a scratch or insect bite. Being so finely done with surgical expertise, this person will most likely not know the procedure has been done at all. And, the biosensor you see here..." A gloved hand held the minuscule chip between index finger and thumb, "...is flexible and especially medicated, thus making it innoxious and unnoticeable to the bearer."
Tweezers, holding between their metal pinchers the glinting biosensor, probed the tiny slit in the skin at the base of the hair follicles, then inserted the chip. "See how the tiny wound closes behind the sensor, which, incidentally, we call the 'Allegiant' and... the procedure is completed!"
The scene changed again to electronic equipment encased in dark plastic, trimmed in chrome and adorned with scopes and colored lights and controls which Jacob recognized as equipment not unlike that he had seen at Naxos, near the Holophone Chamber.
"All of these things you see here..." The camera drew back to include the narrator, a small man in his late '50's with a black patch over one eye, standing in front of the gadgetry. Jacob had not seen him before, "...are responses to the Allegiant, which has now been activated by the galvanic activity within our subject's body."
A video dissolve on the television screen brought the viewers back to Fredria VanHorne's bedroom, the artificial sunlight streaming through the window that opened to a special-effects area just off the apartment. Fredria stood over Jacob, a cup and saucer in her hand, her mouth moving without making sounds, while she talked and smiled.
"Our subject will not know he is being monitored, but will think only that, other than the headache, he had a very good time last evening."
Jacob watched himself having a good time, Fredria having joined him in bed, and remembered the words of Conrad Wilson: "Watch out for that girl, Son. Remember Salome, Delilah, Mata Hari and all the rest..."
He was glad the tape ended. Not because of embarrassment he felt while Melisa sat beside him watching, but because what he had thought at the time was sweet and good and something at least stronger than overnight affection, was but another rape of his individuality. He was no longer angry, rather he wanted to vomit — so physically sick did the thought of being with Fredria VanHorne make him.
"You okay?" Melisa put her arms around him, seeing that he looked like he might topple.
"No... But I will be."
He straightened and managed a deep breath. "You have any ammonia?"
"I think so. Why?" She was already on her way to the kitchen when she asked.
He didn't answer because he could not. Feeling the sickness crawl up his throat, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and cradling his forehead in his palms. He sniffed, trying not to be overwhelmed by the odor when she had handed him the open bottle.
"Thanks." He handed the bottle back to her.
"What's wrong?"
"Sick stomach. Ammonia sometimes helps."
The nausea subsided and he began probing for the device, using his fingertips to examine the flesh of his neck just below his skull.
"I've got to get it out," he said calmly, although feeling anything but calm. "See if you can tell where they put it."
She knelt on one knee over him when he turned sideways on the sofa, and parted his hair methodically.
"Here. I think I've found it. It's a small, reddened spot. Looks almost like a tiny mole." She pinpointed the spot with a fingernail.
"You're going to have to take it out. I can't stand the thought of it being there," he said, a slight tremble in his voice. He convulsed in her arms, shivering.
Melisa kissed the back of his head. "Yes... Yes. We will get it out."
"There's no time. It's got to be done now. They'll be getting a fix on it. Do you have any kind of razor blades?" "Just the injector kind, I think."
"Get them, and some alcohol, tweezers, adhesive tape, if you've got it, and some ice cubes to freeze the area."
When she returned with the items, he hurriedly wrapped the white adhesive tape around one end of one of the blades taken from the injector cartridge. The thought of what he had in mind apparently hitting her, Melisa turned pale.
"Oh, no!... I can't do it, Jacob!"
"Look, I can't reach it. You want to help, don't you?"
She nodded, looking wide-eyed at the wrapped blade. "I just can't do it. I'll hurt you."
"It hurts me now knowing the thing's in there! Take this blade and do what I tell you. They'll kill me for sure, if you don't get it out of there. They'll kill us both!"
She hesitatingly took the blade and held it with both hands while he held the ice cube against the area for more than a minute.
"Find the red mark again and cut it...," he said, "...just deeply enough to get to the thing. Be careful not to cut into the sensor. I don't want it damaged." He sat forward, like before, trying to help hold back the hair on the back of his neck and head so she could better see the spot.
"The light's not good enough. I can't see it well enough to do this. Let's move to the balcony door."
They did so and Jacob applied the ice again, then stepped onto the balcony, retrieved a patio chair and placed it just inside the open door.
"Are you sure you feel up to this right now?"
"I don't feel up to having this thing in my head one more second than I have to. Start cutting, but don't cut into the chip."
Sitting in the chair, the stench of the suffocating dampness assaulting his nostrils, the sounds of what seemed a thousand television sets blasted the stagnant air with a single incantation. "Six Ways to Law! Six Ways to Order! Six Ways to Peace! Six! Six! Six!!"