WACO’S
LUMMOX
By
Waddie Greywolf
Chapter
63
Minniots,
Rarebits, Hommynids and the Scarecrow ~ “I could while away the
hours, conferrin' with the flowers, consultin' with the rain; and my
head, I'd be scratchin' while my thoughts were busy hatchin' if I only
had a brain.” *
The so called
shack was an enormous lean-to structure, which wasn’t really a
‘lean-to’ at all, but only shared a common wall, that was added onto
the backside of the farthest old barn on the property. It was one
of four huge barns on the farm, but by far, the largest. It was
like the Tyrannosaurs Rex of barns. It looked like it might have
doubled as a hanger for an old double winged crop duster airplane, and
so it was. Inside, hidden away, known only to Monty and Dexter,
who discovered it by accident, was an old Curtis Wright ‘Jenny’ Biplane
covered in several layers of tarpaulins. It was a wonderful old
thing they would play in for hours pretending they were World War I
pilots over Germany fighting against the Red Baron.
At one time,
Shane could imagine the farm was a productive piece of property and
employed many people, but there were no signs of it ever being a slave
run operation. Cole commented, the old man must have made money
off the place to afford so many large outbuildings, and the main house
looked like it was a show place in its heyday. Boss
Potter noted, while the furnishings in the house were old, they were
choice antiques and would bring a fortune at auction. The old
barn itself was enormous. It was at least a hundred and fifty
feet long or
more and the width of it measured fifty feet or better. Monty
said his part was an add-on for extra storage. The apex of the
roof of Monty’s shack was probably thirty feet high and gently sloped
at a graceful angle to a span of thirty-five feet where it ended at an
eight foot height.
The interior
floor space measures fifty feet wide by thirty-five feet in
length. The basic potential living area was larger than most
standard homes. It was a huge place for one person to be living
in by himself, but to Monty it was home for fifteen years. He
managed to utilize every area and created a wonderland for himself and
his companion. The men no sooner arrived, disembarked from their
vehicles, when a welcoming
committee of one came around the corner of the barn. There was no
doubt in anyone's mind she was pissed because she was left alone for so
long, but she was overjoyed and
thrilled to see her companions again. She let out screams of
indignation and accusations, squeaks and hee-haws, gurgles and guffaws
of joy and ran straight for Monty and Dexter.
“Jenny!” they
yelled in unison. It was like a family reunion. Monty and
Dexter were both in tears. Obviously the animal meant a lot to
them. If this was the famed jenny of the of the vegetable patch
drama, she didn’t look very old to Shane or Cole. Maybe this was
one of the original’s descendants?
“She’s a beauty,
Son.” Shane patted her, and she was in love. “How long have you had
her?”
“She’s about ten
years old or so. We don’t really know how old she is,
Master. She was a wild ass what wandered onto the property.
Grandpap shot her for git’n into his garden, but we managed to patch
her up and nurse her back to health. She became our friend and
helpmate. I thought sure she would be gone by now.” Monty
seemed thrilled she was still there. She seemed to represent a
connection to his past that skipped over the bad parts and made him
think of the good times.
“That’s because
we feed her.” came a voice from behind the men. It was Mr. Ong
and his
two oldest sons. Monty and Dexter ran to greet them with
handshakes and hugs. “She come to our place every morning to eat, then
make long trip back here to wait for you and Dexter.” said Mr.
Ong. “We try get her to stay because we afraid Mr. Dundee
might shoot her again, but she learn to stay out of sight.”
“Good to see you
again, Mr. Ong.” Shane said as he shook their hands. “Glad you could
join us.”
“A pleasure to
see you gentlemen again, Sir.” he said and as an aside to Shane and
Cole, “We couldn’t pass up opportunity to see you men’s reaction when
you see Monty’s place.” he smiled knowingly.
Monty walked
over to the unusual wooden door which was situated nearer the lower
portion where the roof slanted. It was a large arch shape and had
three large wheels, one mounted in the center and the two others evenly
spaced on either side. They looked like tractor steering
wheels. Monty spun each one of the two side wheels. When
they locked into place he turned the center wheel and the large door
opened. Monty, followed closely by Dexter and Bobby, went into
the structure. Dexter turned and motioned for the men to follow
them; then, turned back and followed Monty. When the men
walked into the place they were stunned. It was like nothing they
could imagine. Cole remarked later, the only thing he could
compare it to was walking out onto the balcony at the Mars port
lodge. It truly was one of the most remarkable thing they ever
saw. Boss Potter was speechless.
The men gathered
just inside the door. They bunched together to take it all
in. No one dared move further inside. They were overwhelmed
by what they saw. They were looking into an unbelievable world
Monty and Dexter created for themselves. Every inch of the place
was meticulously painted with exotic designs and symbols, but they
didn’t stand out. They didn't overwhelm. They blended into
everything like they were a
whispered language. Colors on the ceiling and walls weren’t just
painted on. They flowed from one color to another in a muted
rainbow effect that was as beautiful as it was erotic. Nothing
clashed. There was no confusion. To break up the expanse of
the huge room, there were huge canvases hung from the beams that ran
horizontally and vertically and held in place by large poles.
They were attached at the top but free to hang from the ceiling and
could be raised and lowered by a sophisticated rope and pulley
mechanism. Each was painted to appear like a different scene
from beautiful places on Earth. One was an alpine meadow.
Another room was the Grand Canyon; another was a beach and seascape;
each was carefully painted to represent its theme.
It was all
meticulously planned and accomplished to look like it was the most
natural place in the world for one to relax. It said
‘home.’ The sheer beauty of the place sucked you in, wrapped
itself around you like a warm comforter blanket on a cold evening
before a roaring fire, and everything fit into place like the cogs of a
finely tuned mechanism. It looked like it was put together by
a team of slightly mad watchmakers. It subtly, but erotically,
raped you from the moment you walked inside; and yet, the most amazing
thing was, there wasn’t a hint of sexuality. Monty was going
about checking things and not paying much attention to the men who were
still huddled together in awe. The huge back wall was carefully
divided into sections and between each section was five, enormous,
famous works of art; paintings four feet wide by eight feet tall that
were breathtakingly accurate in their presentation. One was a
Monet water lilies; the second was Van Gogh’s famous sunflowers; the
third and centerpiece was Da Vinci’s ‘Lady with Ermine;’ the fourth was
Picasso’s ‘Three Muscians’ and the last was a stunning Diego Rivera
‘The Flower Vendor’ from 1941.
“Where, the
hell, did he find reproductions that large?” Shane asked in awe.
“Not
reproductions, Mr. Goodnight,” said Mr. Ong quietly, “real paintings,
copies of originals painted by Monty and Dexter with nothing more than
old buckets of throwaway latex paint they find and cast off
brushes. They perfect in every detail. My sons take
pictures, put into computer, overlay on top of originals, no
difference. Perfect copies only much larger. They
flawless.”
“No! How
could...?” said Shane quietly but never finished. He settled for
looking at his mate and just shaking his head. Cole grinned at
him and winked.
“I knew you
wouldn’t believe me.” smiled Mr. Ong. Shane nodded his head in
awe.
“Forgive me, Mr.
Ong, you’re so right. This is beyond description or
explanation. It’s beyond
belief. It's staggering.” said Shane. “Unless you see for
yourself, no one would
believe. This is incredible.” Shane said in awe.
“Holy
shit! Who is this young man we have taken among us?” whispered
Gil Morris.
“Mr. Ong warned
me, Mr. Morris, but I never imagined anything like this.
This is fantastic. The entire place should be in a museum.” Shane
allowed.
The men walked
slowly into the big room taking in the vast expanse of the area.
The huge, overpowering back wall, where the paintings hung, was
composed
of the old weathered and somewhat distressed barn wood that took on a
grey patina over the years before Monty’s section was added.
There was a massive natural oak beam that ran the
length of the backside of the old barn some fifty feet and corresponded
with the first break in the walls for the roof line of the gigantic
structure. The paintings were a central focus of the wall, but
where they ended began Monty’s personal living quarters. He
constructed a two story loft with a stairs leading up to the second
level where he had his futon bed and closets with built in
cabinets for clothes. There was only an ornate railing facing out
to the main room. It was open and airy with banks of windows on
the outside wall upstairs and down. Below was an office
with a huge oak desk surrounded by book cases filled with mementos he
collected of various trinkets over the years. It wasn’t just
thrown together. It was carefully planned and executed. It
looked
as if fine wood craftsmen spend days on end carving and fitting every
piece of wood into exactly the right place. Beams that held up
the superstructure of his loft bedroom were not just raw four by
fours. Each was carved into spirals and individually painted or
stained to look very old and antique. It looked like something
out of a medieval castle. There were plush, beautiful oriental
rugs and carpets everywhere that only added to the overall warmth and
richness of the place. It didn’t look like a humble, starving
peasant lived there. It looked very rich, warm and inviting;
something someone might see in a very wealthy person’s home.
“All these rugs
were found in the trash, Master Shane. I never took anything that
wasn’t thrown away. I brought them back here, cleaned them and
gave them new life. One doesn’t have to live poorly just because
he has little money. I chose to live with beauty around me and my
companions helped me.”
There was a four
foot space between each large painting and in those spaces were
areas the same height of the paintings cut into the old barn wall and
book cases built and sunk into the cavities. The paintings were
carefully hung about two feet off the floor so the bookcases ran from
the floor to a height of ten feet. It was a clean line
across the top from the paintings to the tops of the six, three by ten
bookcases filled with books on all subjects.
“C’mer, Son.”
Shane hailed him. Monty came to him.
“Yes, Sir,
Master Shane?”
“Stop what
you’re doing and take us on a guided tour. I don’t know about the
rest of these men, but I want to know what this is all about and how
you created it?”
“Yeah, us, too.”
added several of the other men.
“And where are
the machines you told us about?” Gil Morris asked.
“They’re on the
other side of the back wall, Mr. Morris. I expanded into the barn
and created separate workshops for them. There’s a door between
the Monet and the Van Gogh. You can’t see it because it’s
disguised. Here, I’ll show you.” Monty walked over to the
second bookcase and gently tapped it with his hand. A section
three feet wide by eight feet high swung open. The top two feet
of the book shelves didn’t move. It was the top of the
bookcase and doubled as a doorstop. He slowly swung opened the
door for the men to see into
another huge room on the other side of the wall. A light came on
automatically to expose the other room. The six machines Monty
told them about were arranged in order of their importance. There
were six brand new saddles and a shelf that held about a dozen pair of
fine buckaroo boots he made. The men rushed in to see.
Nothing will get the attention of working cowboys faster than boots and
saddles.
“Never mind the
machines for right now. Take a minute of your time and tell us
about this place.” ordered Shane.
“Ain’t much to
tell, Master Shane. With Dexter’s and a few friends' help, I’ve
worked on it all my life. I built a lot of it myself.
Larger projects I had some help. My Ong brothers were always
willing to
lend a hand for a larger
project. Dexter is very strong and
powerful for his size. I built my kitchen when I’s ten or
eleven. My bedroom on stilts and my office underneath I built
when I’s about twelve or thirteen. Those two enclosed rooms,
upstairs and down, off my bedroom and office area are my
bathrooms. I added them when I learned about plumbing and hooked
up water lines to the windmill pump. There’s a complete bath
upstairs, but only a toilet and sink downstairs off my study. I
learned about waste disposal and created a septic system about thirty
yards from the building out of castoff fifty-five gallon drums we
buried with my grandpap's tractor and ran leach lines from ‘em.
All waste from the bathrooms
and my kitchen goes there, but only organic waste. Paper waste is
burned. Vegetable waste and kitchen scraps went to the
chickens. I
pumped water up to the roof of the barn and through gravity flow I had
hot water for cleaning and showering. During the winter when the
sun weren’t hot enough, I diverted the water flow through the grating
in my fireplace. Them’s the copper pipes you see running back and
forth what act like fire grates. My office downstairs
is also my library where I keep all my important books.” Monty
explained. “The bookcase dividers between the large paintings is where
I keep other books Dexter and I read. This door and another down
the way act as doors into the back part of the barn I partitioned off
some time ago for more room. See those stairs inside the other
room? They go up to another workroom on the second floor.
The wall they run up is the dividing wall for two more big workrooms on
the other side behind the other half of the wall.
“Did you need
that many workrooms, Son?” Cole asked.
“Oh, yes,
Sir. In the other rooms on the other side of the dividing wall is
where I built Dexter and several other projects I completed.
Master Shane, there’s some of this I need to show only you, Boss Potter
and Mr. Jenkins.”
“What if we get
the machines out and what you need to take from the leather working
area? We can send the cowboys and our sheriff escorts on their
way, then we can discuss the rest.”
“Sounds good,
except I found two more saddles and several more pairs of boots
upstairs
in my observatory I hadn’t planned on what were made while I was in
jail.” Monty looked at Shane and shrugged.
“You wanna’ tell
me how they came about, Son? Now would be a good time to let your
master know yore’ secrets.” Shane encouraged him.
“Can we wait
‘til the men take the machines, Master? Let them take them new
saddles and boots. You can decide what you wanna’ do with
‘em. They’s yours now.”
“Okay, but I
want my pa, Mr. Morris, and a couple of other men who ain’t here right
now to hear what you got to tell us. Don’t you think it’s time
you brought the Ongs on board? I’ve invited them to join us as
family and to become a part of our Grange. Because of you and
Dexter they
must become a part of our greater family.”
“I agree with
you, Sir. I know you’re right, Master Shane, but some of the
information I have to share is pretty select. I would rather
share it with you, your associates and let you chose what to tell
others. Another thing, Master Shane,” Monty said lowering his
voice almost to a whisper, “there’s sensitive information I ain’t
shared with Dexter what directly concerns him. Since you’re his
master, now, as well as mine, it should be up to you to make the
decision how
much he should know. After I show you, I guarantee, you’ll
understand why, Sir.” Monty had a pleading sound to his request.
“Fair
enough. I trust you. I’ll have the cowboys start loading
the truck with the machines, the saddles and the boots.”
Shane instructed
the cowboys to start loading the truck. He laughingly threatened
the cowboys with a ‘whupping’ if they tried on any of the boots before
they got home. They all groaned and moaned like little kids whose
daddy just told them they couldn’t have ice cream. Mr. Morris,
Shane, Potter
and Cole laughed at them. It took about an hour, and they had the
six machines loaded and tied down with all of Monty’s hand tools.
They also carefully loaded the saddles and boots he made onto the
truck. Monty even talked Jenny onto the back of the truck, but
unless
Monty or Dexter was with her, she wasn’t about to go away and leave
them. She found them again, and she had no plans to let them out
of her sight any time soon. They could go into the shack as long
as she could stand at the door, see them and call to them if she got
nervous they were moving too far away from her. Dexter wasn’t
much better; he pleaded to stay when Shane suggested he go along with
Jenny so she would feel comfortable about relocating to the
ranch. He was sure once she joined the other jennys and jacks on
their ranch she would feel at home. Shane looked down at Dexter’s
sad little face and picked him up in his arms.
“You my slave?”
he asked Dexter quietly as he stole a kiss.
“Yes, Sir, you
know I am.” Dexter said quietly like he knew what was coming.
“I’s jes’
check’n. I though maybe you might be having second thoughts and
changed yore’ mind. Slaves must do what their master tells
‘em. Ain’t I shared more with you than I have your big brother?”
he asked quietly.
“Yes, Master
Shane, and I’m grateful. I still wanna’ be your salve. I
need to belong to you, now, more than ever.” he said poignantly.
“Do you love me,
Dexter?” he smiled at the boy-android.
“That ain't
fair. You know I do, Captain Shane.”
“I love you,
too, Scout. Now do as your master tells you and go along with
Jenny. Bobby and a couple of the cowboys will ride with
you. You got things to do back at the ranch. We’ll be along
directly.”
“Okay.
I’ll obey my master.” Dexter conceded like he couldn’t defeat Shane’s
logic and was resigned to accept it.
After everything
was loaded, Shane sent the cowboys on their way, told them to unload
the machines in the new barn and cover them with plastic until he could
figure out a place for them. Boss Potter volunteered to go along
with Bobby and Dexter back to the ranch. He knew Shane needed to
settle some things with Monty and understood the fewer people around
the better. He would hear about it later or he could review
videos through Kyron. The Ongs paid
their respects and took off to return to their farm. Shane
promised to be in touch with them within the next few days to give them
a report. Mr. Ong was grateful. Monty thanked his cowboy
slave brother’s and had a big hug for them. He promised Bobby and
Dexter they’d be along in a little while. He gave Boss Potter a
hug and thanked him for coming. Shane asked Cole, and Gil Morris
to stay with him.
“I hope we can
get all this taken care of this evening. I’d hate to have to come
back over here and confront your grandpa again, Son. Maybe we can
lay our cards on the table and learn what we’re dealing with from each
other.”
“‘What,’ is
about right, Master Shane. Sometimes I ain’t even sure who or
what I am.” Monty lamented.
“Maybe we can
help, Son, if you give us a chance. There’s one other man I’d
like to send for— Ramrod Long. You met him at the barbecue last
Sunday. He’s my brother Charlie’s ramrod. He’s also the
leader of our Grange. I think he needs to know what we’re dealing
with here. Are you ready to trust me, Son? Are your ready
to give yourself to me?”
“My companion
used those same words, and everyone has admonished me to do it,
Sir. Other than the Ongs, it will be the first time in my life
I ever fully trusted
anyone enough, but I think there are greater powers in the
universe what are directing me to lay my life at your boots, Sir,
literally and figuratively. It ain’t easy for me to trust people,
Master Goodnight. I ain’t like other people.”
“I’m aware of
that, Monty. Ain’t chu’ never wondered or considered how you came
to be with me as my salve? The money to pay for you was provided
by a couple of members of our Grange two days after you was thrown in
jail. Judge Potter was hoping to get a settlement with
Ruggles. He left your case in Judge Anderson’s capable hands, but
his people couldn’t get Ruggles to settle. We took a chance you
was gonna’ be sentenced from five to ten years indenturement, but we
wanted to be the first with the highest bid for you. You were a
gift to me from Ramrod Long and ma’ brother, Charlie. You got
them to thank for saving you from becoming Charlie Ruggles’
slave. Do you have any idea why you’re so different from other
people, Son?”
“Not really,
Sir. I think it might have some’um to do with my dad. When
my grandpap got mad at me, he’d curse and tell me I was jes’ like my
old man. I’ve always been able to do strange things other people
can’t. Most folks look on me like I's a freak; they shy away from
me. I tried hard to be real careful not to let on about my
abilities or show off. I done it when I’s a kid and got into a
passel of trouble. Only the Ongs have been faithfully good to me
and Dexter all these years, but they don’t know ever’ thing I can do.”
“The Ongs are
very aware of your differences, Son, but they look on them as gifts and
not some’um to be spooked by. They know and love you and Dexter,
Monty. Has it ever crossed your mind there just might be others
similar to you around? ” Shane asked.
“Naw, Sir, but
the Ong’s told me you and I was a lot alike; so did Dexter. He
insisted we’s enough alike we could be brothers.” Monty said.
“He’s right,
Son. He didn’t lie to you. We’re more alike than you might
imagine.” Shane assured him.
“Can you make
yourself invisible, Master?” Monty challenged him.
“Shore' can.”
Shane replied without hesitation.
“Can you
transport yourself from one place to another?”
“Easy.”
“Can you move
objects with your mind?”
“Nothing to it.”
Shane smiled. Cole smiled at him. Monty saw no doubt in
Shane’s face. Monty looked confused. Either Shane was
telling him the truth or he was the best, rock solid, drop-dead,
stone-cold bullshit artist he ever ran across. He looked at
Shane, cocked his head a bit and grinned
like he didn’t believe him.
“Can you bring
the dead back to life?” Monty asked as the ultimate challenge.
“Like you done
with Jenny?” Shane smiled.
“How’d ju’ know
about that?” Monty looked bemused.
“Your granddad
done told us he suspected you bought her back to life, and a man would
have to be deaf, blind and stupid not to feel the love what passed
between the three of you when she discovered you’s home. You not
only brought her back to life, but I suspect you passed on to her some
of your genetic information. If I’m right, you have a malleable
DNA structure, and unless she has a horrible accident, little Jenny
will never face death again. How do I know? Jenny is much
too young looking to be her age. Just like you noticed I look too
young to be my age. Just like ma’ pa looks too young to be his
age. Boss Potter’s in his mid seventies. I make sure the
people I love and care about will never age. Can you do
that? I ain’t brought
nobody back to life yet, but I’m work’n on it. Came close
once. Bobby Morris was knock'n on heaven's door, and I brought
him back from the brink. I’m developing
into a pert-damn good healer, Son. I got me some friends what
brought the Holy Father back to life when he was shot through the head.”
“I heard about
that. I followed it on the news and knew something lie'kat must
a' happened. Nobody gets his brains blown out and
recovers. I healed one of the Ong’s grandkids who was dying of
Leukemia. The doctors done give up on her and sent her home to
die. Can you really heal people, Master Shane?”
“He healed my
boy, Son.” Gil Morris spoke up, “Bobby was dying of a defective heart
valve when Ms. Biddle and me brought him to Captain Shane. I owe
my boy’s life to yore’ master, Son. I give him my word as a
cowboy, if he healed my son and took Bobby for his own, I would become
his slave for life, and I meant it. I was ready to sign my life
over to him when I seen my boy was gonna' make a full recovery.
He never asked that of me.
Instead he gimme' a good job, and Bobby and me, we decided to throw
our lot in with him and the Grange. In essence, we done give
ourselves to him. Ain't sorry we done it, neither. We’d
follow yore’ master to
the ends of the Earth.” Gil’s voice cracked.
Monty continued
to look at Shane with some suspicion, but he was beginning to wonder.
“I know what
that look means, but I ain’t gonna’ prove it to you, Son. It’s
important you believe my word, trust me, and give yourself to me.
I know you believe in the cowboy way. Cowboy to cowboy, you got
my word I can do these things. Why, the hell, do you think you
been brought to me?” Shane had a strong definitive urgency in his voice.
“Oh, God, Master
Shane! I’m so different. I ain’t trusted hardly nobody all
my
life. What am I suppose to do? You’re my master, tell me
what to do? I'm your slave, order me to do it.” the young
man fell to his knees, put his face in his hands
and started sobbing. Shane reached out and touched Monty’s mind
to calm him.
<< My old
boots need your attention, Son. Pay homage to me, not because
you’re my slave and it’s expected of you, but because you need to give
yourself to me; because, you know you want to give yourself to
me. Show
your faith in me, and say them words I know
are in your heart. I can hear you mulling them over in your mind;
you want to, I can hear them, but my ears must hear them, the ancient
voices of the universe are waiting to hear you speak, and these men, my
closest associates, will pay witness. >>
“My, God!
Who
are you?” whispered Monty, looking up into Shane's handsome face.
“Your master,
Son. I will own your body for four and a half years, but I’m
asking you to give your heart to me; for how long, is to be decided on
a
daily basis or as long as you feel comfortable trusting me. I
ain’t no insane megalomaniac who’s forming a cult and insists on being
worshiped. I certainly ain’t no god or prelate of some new
fangled cool-aid religion. I was a slave for ten years and if I
learned
nothing else, it’s the value of family, no matter how you define
it. I’m a simple man, an ex-slave, a humble cowboy who has been
touched by an ancient wisdom. I don’t know why. Sometimes,
I been as confused as you feel right this minute. I don’t have
all the answers, Son, but for right now, I’m your owner and your
master; however, to become a part of my family and stand by my side as
my younger brother, you must give yourself to me like yore' little
brother done. He was right, it’s one thing to own a man because
you paid for him or he was gifted to you, and quite another to have him
give himself to you. Which do you think is the greater
bond? Do you think my cowboy slaves would consider leaving
me? Except for a couple, they's all pledged themselves to
me. Even Mr. Morris and Bobby have given themselves to me,
Son. Gil Morris wouldn’t be here right now if’n he weren’t
family.” Shane smiled at him. Monty looked from Shane, to Cole
and then to Gil Morris and saw only love and understanding in their
eyes. He began to pay homage to Shane’s boots. When Shane
was satisfied he spoke, “That’s fine, slave, now come to your master’s
arms.” Shane spoke to him. He arose and found Shane’s arms
waiting for him.
“I will! I
give myself to you, Master Shane!” he cried. “I believe in
you. I will trust you with my deepest secrets. I love you,
Sir.” It felt like his heart broke in two. He sobbed in
Shane’s arms. Monty was never so moved by anyone or anything in
his life. He was beginning to understand Dexter’s passion for the
big cowboy. How could he not give himself to this man?
“Shuuu,
boy. Don’t fret none. You done the right thing. I
accept your gift. Now, you belong to me. You’re my
brother.” Shane kissed Monty gently on his lips. Cole came to
them and placed his hand on Monty. Gil Morris did the same.
“Welcome to our
family, Monty. Welcome to the Grange.” said Gil Morris.
Shane let go of him. Monty grabbed Cole, hugged and kissed
him. He did the same with Gil Morris.
“Now we got
that out of the way, let’s get down to business. Admiral, I think
we’re ready for you. If you will be so kind, Kyron.” Shane
said. Monty looked perplexed. He had no idea who Shane was
addressing.
“My pleasure,
Captain Shane. The Admiral and his posse are here with me and
have been following your progress at the Dundee farm. They are
ready to come to you.” came a booming voice. Monty’s eyes opened
wide, he looked almost terrified. There was a bright flash of
light, the men shielded their eyes and Ramrod Long, Shane’s older
brother Charlie Goodnight, his boy Waco, Ox, and Waco’s mate Captain
Vinceeth, Waco's identical brother Indigo/Blue, Jesse Watkins and his
faithful companion Utah appeared before
them. The men were dressed as cowboys and Ox was wearing his
usual, massive leather harness and tall boots with his summer cut in
his coat. Shane thought he looked more handsome than usual and
felt his friend South-of-the-border move in his Wranglers. Monty
was wowed beyond words. He wondered what he’d gotten himself
into. These men obviously were advanced if they mastered instant
physical relocation of some kind.
“How did you do
that?” Monty asked Shane, “How could you breakdown molecules and
reassemble them someplace else without losing the integrity of the
original?” he jumped to conclusions.
“Interesting
question, young man,” replied Lazarus Long, “but the premise of your
assumption is incorrect. We don’t transport by defining molecular
structure or tearing it down and reassembling it somewhere else.
Even though I suspect you know better, that’s the influence of Star
Trek. While that sort of transport is highly theatrical and great
for movies, in reality, it just won’t work; too many things could go
wrong. Certainly the writers of Star Trek knew it and took
advantage of its inherent flaws with many plot twists around someone
getting lost in transport or arriving someplace they weren’t supposed
to. We simply phase shift and move about by means of gravitic
wells. Your master told you he could transport himself from place
to place. Maybe now you will believe him. How do you move
about?” Lazarus put to him.
“The same way,
Sir, but I never considered anybody else might understand the concept
even if I explained it to them.” Monty was in awe.
“Monty, you met
these gentlemen at our barbecue last Sunday. Welcome, Gentlemen.”
Shane spoke to the new arrivals. They walked over and shook hands
with Monty and greeted the other men. Shane continued, “What you
don’t know is, Captain Vinceeth is from another planet, the planet
Tentagel in another solar system within our galaxy. Several of
his men were at the barbecue. They were the largest men
there. They are a warrior class from a race of peaceful people,
the Visallians. That might sound like a dichotomy, but they are
the police-class of warriors who are called upon to protect their
world. He and his people have committed themselves to helping us
escape this planet when the end comes in approximately five
years.
Captain Waco’s lummox slave, Ox, is known on Earth as a
Bigfoot, but the truth is, he and his kind are survivors of their home
world Volgo which was destroyed several centuries ago by our enemies,
the Reptilians. They were scattered across the universe and we
are working to bring together the last of their species and helping to
increase their population. They are known as Volgorons.
Indigo/Blue, Master Waco's identical brother is identical becauce he is
a clone of Master Waco and has two distinct entities living within
him. While his body is carbon based he has a silicon life-form
living comfortably inside him along with another carbon based
personality which developed unexpectedly. That's why he has two
names. He's the first successful chimera
of an interspecies hybrid.
Master Jesse and his companion, Utah,
were the two who brought
President Scudder back from death. They are two remaining
ancients who have roamed our planet for centuries. Together, with
them and a number of other races you will be introduced to later, we
have joined together to face a common enemy, several parasitic races
within our galaxy. Our Grange is an organization devoted to
gathering as much information, fauna and flora from our planet as
possible, along with other good folks who are willing to start a new
life without the influences of myths and superstitions; a society based
on reason, the truth of science, trust, equality, hard work and faith
in
their fellow men. Now you have given yourself to me, we can share
these things with you, but we expect you to share with us. We
need to know and understand what you’ve discovered in the information
spheres which helped and allowed you to create Dexter. You can
trust these men. We are all members of the Grange. It is my
hope we can help you fill in the pieces of your past and explain to you
how you came to belong to us. It wasn’t by accident, Son.
You were sent to us for our mutual benefit.”
Monty broke up
laughing. It was all too bizarre for him. Never before had
he been exposed to anyone who might be more intelligent or certainly
more advanced that himself, but here it was being laid before him like
it was the most natural unfolding of his personal universe. He
finally got himself together.
“Forgive me,
gentlemen, I’m overwhelmed. I certainly didn’t see this coming.”
Monty looked thunderstruck, “These revelations would certainly explain
a few things; wait, more than just a few; wow, the possibilities
are endless. I remember Dexter using those very words. He
told me what he discovered within his programming when he gave himself
to you opened limitless possibilities for him. That little
Devil!” Monty chuckled as he mused to himself about Dexter, “He told me
about all this without giving away anything you shared with him.
He told me I must listen to him and do as he asked; it was probably the
most important lesson he had to teach me.”
“You know,
you’re not the only creature on Earth what can make himself invisible
and transport himself from place to place. Ox? Captain
Waco?” Shane said. They immediately vanished. The
other men laughed like they’d seen it many times before. Even
though he could do the same, Monty was taken aback. They returned
as quickly as they winked out, but they returned standing behind
Monty. That’s what the men were laughing about. Shane
motioned for him to turn around, and there stood Waco and Ox with big
smiles on their faces. “Do I really have to prove myself to you,
Son?” Shane was still reading his mind.
“No, Sir, not at
all. I understand what my little brother was trying to tell me,
and as usual, he was right. If everyone here is privy to what you
know, then there seems to be no sense in my keeping secrets any
longer. I’m ready to give you the tour you asked for earlier,
Master Shane. Let’s start with the workrooms and then we can
return, sit around the big table, here, and I can tell you the
rest.” Monty led them to the room where the machines were.
“I think I mentioned I discovered several more pairs of boots in boxes
upstairs and a couple more saddles in rough form. They were
waiting my final applications. If you gentlemen will follow me
upstairs, I’ll introduce you to my helpers.” Monty went up the
stairs and turned on some lights. There was enough light coming
through the windows on the backside of the barn. He found and
installed a wall of old windows across the twenty-five feet of the huge
area for outside light to come into the room. The room was
completely empty. He instructed the men to stand with their backs
against the windows.
“I guess you men
are used to unusual things and won’t be alarmed by different species,
so here goes.” Monty reached behind a post and ran his hand over
a pulse sensing switch. Suddenly the room was filled with
workbenches and a few more tools the cowboys didn’t find.
Standing around the benches looking at the men and Monty were five
small alien creatures. They looked at Monty and ran to him.
They were all over him, hugging and kissing him. He was laughing,
petting them
and calling them by name.
“These
creatures, gentlemen, are my helpers. They’ve been busy since I
was gone. The smaller, silver-backed fuzzy ones with the
large orange eyes are Minniots, the medium size, black ones with
the quills who look like porcupines are Rarebits, and the larger
humanoid-like creature with the dark brown skin and pale blue eyes is a
Hommynid. They were created by my spheres. They live and
work in a dimension close to ours. It is basically the same
dimension we phase shift to in order to become invisible or move
about. We can cross over into their dimension, but they can’t
crossover into ours. So, in order for us to see them we have to
be phase shifted into their dimension. That’s what I just
did. You men are now in another dimension of time and
space. If a stranger was to walk into this room they would see
nothing. You wouldn’t be visible to them. When we return,
your watches will not show any time has passed, but the veil is so thin
between dimensions, we could still communicate with them aurally.
They have the ability to pass things made here in this dimension into
our dimension, but they can’t pass over. There are designated
areas of the room that ain’t covered by the field for just such a
purpose. I’ve wondered sometimes if they ain’t behind the legends
of Santa’s helpers or gnomes which only children report seeing who make
toys and presents for them for holidays. Children can see them
without being phase shifted. I don’t know why, but I was able to
see them until I reached puberty when I lost the ability. Humans
lose sight of several things when they become sexually aware.”
Monty smiled.
“Are they
alive,
Son, or are they solid holographical replicants?” asked an impressed
Admiral Long.
“I think they
are both, Admiral Long. They are alive, but more specific and far
more sophisticated than holographic replicants. While they are
very much alive, they ain’t alive in the sense of living in a day to
day continuum like us. Their templets, or those whom they were
copied after, have long since lived out their natural lives and expired
many, many years ago. I have no way of knowing for sure, but I
would guess thousands of years, perhaps eons. These creatures
are fabrications of them. They are analogous to recordings of
those who volunteered to be copied; like you would make a digital video
recording of a loved one, a favorite slave or even an animal, but they
are much more sophisticated than just a mere recording. In other
words, they ain’t living creatures what are existing in the here and
now. They are creatures that existed once, but now only exist in
a limited space-time continuum that’s similar to a Mobius loop.
This whole area on both sides of the dividing wall are
fourth-dimensional, eight-celled octachorons or tesseracts. I
don’t fully understand the mathematics of the geometry yet, but I know
how they work and operate. With the aid of the spheres I can
manipulate them to my purpose. There’s more about them to learn
on the final six spheres, but I ain’t been able to access them yet.
The closest I
can come to an explanation for my helpers is in the use of
language. They are analogous to homonyms. They are homonyms
of the same creature who lived its life, then expired. Once
reactivated they can become anything they are programed to be or do
what a pre-designed set of programs tells them to. It’s
impossible to assign more than one function or program to one entity in
any given loop, but you can have hundreds, perhaps even thousands on
one loop ready to be activated and programmed to perform a variety of
tasks. Like a ‘pool’ can be a ‘pool’ of water or become the game
of ‘pool.’ As ‘wind’ can ‘wind’ its way though the trees, a
Hommynid was originally one thing, but when copied into a loop, can
become something altogether different depending on the task it's
assigned. What remains is a
recording of a brief period of time and space which can be reactivated
again and again to bring them to life to follow any set of
instructions. Once the program shuts down they cease to exist in
our dimension or any other dimension for that matter. Their sole
purpose is to act as tools for building something, anything, found
within my six spheres. They all are referred to as Hommynids, but
they are also sometimes referred to by their individual names of
Minniots, Rarebits, and Hommynids. Sometimes the Hommynids,
themselves, are referred to by their principle role as Noldiers.
Noldiers are interfacers and a programmer’s main contact.
Minniots and Rarebits are mostly worker types, but they can, on
occasion, be substituted for interactive Hommynids.
Within their
groups, each entity has an individual personality, just like
people. Some are more talented than others. Some have
talents others don’t. All are capable of considerable brilliance,
and each brings to any set of problems varied input. There are
also subsets of Hommynids. There are workers, procurers, traffic
regulators, planners, program assistants and Noldiers. There can
be hundreds of subsets of each. Noldiers are avatars or personal
representatives meant to interface with programmers. They can
only be Hommynids, or the subset of Hommynids known as Noldiers and are
the only ones with the ability to step outside their dimension into
ours for brief periods of time. They can not remain in our
dimension longer than a set period of time or they will cease to exist
and be permanently erased from the loop. It’s not a matter of
control of them so much as a power consumption problem. Loops can vary in
length. Some can go on for days while others can be made to exist
only for a split second. All are capable of interrelating with
each other. In other words, it can be like a symphonic
work. Entrances and exits of sounds and different instruments to
create a complete work. How long? Depends on the task or
what you wish to accomplish. You can create anything or build
anything you want from absolutely nothing. Anything you can
imagine can be made, and it will function like you want it to, for the
most part. I say ‘for the most part’ because Dexter still
surprises me from time to time. I know he’s been worried about me
for sometime, but I’m beginning to think he’s outgrowing me.” he said
with some sadness in his voice.
“No, he ain’t,
Monty.” said Shane a little perturbed, “He’s just been given a new
purpose and responsibilities. He’s still very much your little
brother. He always will be. Even more so, now you decided
to join us.” Shane assured him. Monty continued.
“When Dexter and
I began to consume knowledge we learned as much as we could about
computer programming, and as I was building Dexter I learned about
fuzzy logic. I didn’t learn it from the spheres. I learned
it from Earth generated programming logic. At first it didn’t
make a lot of sense to me, but as time went on I began to see its
larger applications and began to include it in my programs I was
creating for Dexter. Maybe that accounts for some of his random
surprises. I wanted him to be as human as possible, but fuzzy
logic has other applications and comes closest to what the helper
programs can be about. You can have them do anything and give
them specific freedoms to be creative as well as productive or you may
be as restrictive as you like. You may control every
nuance of their temporary existence, but without some modicum of
creativity it quickly becomes boring for you as well as for them.
Like real people, if they become tired or bored they lose interest and
their productivity falls. To be a good programmer or interfacer
you must learn to trust your natural instincts and those of your
workers. They helped Dexter and I create almost everything you
see here today, including Dexter himself. I can better show you
when I activate a couple of my spheres. I will get them after our
tour and demonstrate them.”
“This sound
impressive.” said the Admiral, “What you said about programmers or
interfacers has its parallels in our dimension in a good slave-master
and his foreman. These creatures, no matter how they exist, are
basically the ultimate technological slaves without the need for moral
issues. Still there arises some questions. Surely there is
a pause switch or term limits recommended for their existence and
use. I get the impression you let them continue unsupervised for
long periods of time.” Lazarus challenged Monty.
“Yes, Sir.
This group has been functioning together for a little over three
years now, but they have only created so many saddles and pairs of
boots due to a set limit specification programed into every
venture. You have to keep renewing contracts on quotas or they
won’t produce. Since I didn’t know I was going to be incarcerated
for six months, I didn’t specify limits, but the greater program
did. If there’s been no contact with me for a given period of
time, they cease production until further notice. I’ve left them
unto themselves, because every time I shut them down, when I start them
up again, I have to start from scratch. Perhaps there’s a way to
freeze or pause a program and start it up again, but I ain’t discovered
how yet. Sometimes, I think
the oracle of the spheres is only as forthcoming with me as it feels I
can handle due to my age and maturity. On the other side of this
wall, in both rooms, upstairs and down, is another, even larger team
I’ve had running for most of my fifteen years. They are the
builders of fantastic things; wonderful things, like Dexter. I’ve
purposely left them running because I’ve programmed their functions to
be accumulative. They build on and refine what they’ve discovered
and created. They are considerably more impressive than these
simple leather workers, but not anymore appreciated.” Monty was quick
to add. “There are no small jobs, only small Hommynids.” he
grinned.
“Do you do any
of the actual leather work, Son?” Shane asked.
“Yes, Sir, it’s
all my work. I must create a templet for them to copy. I do
all the repair work because it takes more creative skills than
reproduction. They create only the basics of the saddles and
boots. I do all the fine tooling work. The human touch is
what makes them unique and sets them apart from mass manufactured
boots. It’s not a new concept. Craftsmen have done it for
centuries. Famous artist had teams of apprentices who learned by
doing the grunt work for their master, then the master would come along
and add his touch which would make the work uniquely his.”
“So, these
workers are basically acting like replicators. While it’s an
interesting way of creating something, we have actual replication
machines in which we can place a pair of your boots or a saddle, and it
will
produce a dozen copies, each so perfect you can’t tell the difference
between it and the original.” commented Lazarus
“Yes, Sir, I
understand from my education in artificial machines and life forms how
that sort of thing might be possible, but this is the only process I
had for multiple production. I suppose I could have my research
and development team build me a replication device, but it would
take away some of my enjoyment of working with these creatures.
I’ve spent a lot of time with them. They grow on you, Sir.
In many ways they became my family. I know you men understand
about family no matter one’s definition.” he smiled at Shane, repeating
his words, “I know each one and they’ve become part of my greater
family like a good horse will become a fine companion as well as a good
tool for a cowboy. Besides, when you’re
young and not so sophisticated, you use what you have to work with;
however, the more you work with them, the more you come to understand
and appreciate their unlimited potential. I was thinking of
making money for other projects like forming a family. The
helpers were designed for much greater things than mere
replication. Since I’m now a slave, together we could provide a
greater growth potential for Master Shane. Me and my boys could
help. Not only could we keep all the Goodnight ranches well shod
for a minimum, we could sell our products by word of mouth. Some
of our finest work could be replicated by your devices from our
prototypes. Every cowboy has at least one, fine, expensive pair
of buckaroo boots. Why wouldn’t they pay handsomely for a fine
pair of boots with the famous ‘Goodnight’ name on them?”
“He’s got a good
point, Admiral.” Shane smiled.
“Well reasoned,
Son.” Lazarus allowed, “Does anyone else see a resemblance
between the ‘Rarebits’ and the coyote cowboy’s buddy ‘Radar’ the
bladder whale symbiote and his family who stowed away on the Banshee to
travel back to Mars with us?”
“My guess would
be they must be of the same specie, Admiral.” Waco allowed.
“Do you know
where the various templets for these critters came from, Monty?” asked
Shane.
“I never had a
reason to look into it, Master Shane, but I’m sure the oracle of the
spheres would know what species they were patterned after and where
their world of origin is or was.” Monty replied. “You men have been to
Venus and Mars?” Monty asked in wonder.
“Many times,
Son.” Shane smiled at him. “All will be revealed to you in
time. I gave you my word as a cowboy. When you gave
yourself to me, you put in the key what unlocked the door. I’ll
take you to Mars port for supper one evening soon.”
“Doesn’t it take
months to travel to Mars, Sir?”
“Sure, if you
travel by ship.” spoke up Waco, “But traveling by spaceship is so
‘Destination Moon’; so retro nineteen fifties. We travel by
gates. We step through from Earth to Mars; from Mars to Venus.”
Waco explained and grinned. "Soon we'll be able to go to Venus
directly from Earth." he added.
“Believe me,
Son, it took Bobby and me some getting used to.” assured Gil Morris,
“These men think nothing of going to Mars for supper on a moment’s
whim. You should be forewarned, Monty, Captain Shane is a hero on
Mars
and Venus.”
Admiral Long
spoke, “Our medical team of bio-mechanical men looked Dexter over, and
he’s of a completely different brain type from them. They have
positronic brains, but his is organically grown and resembles another
brain type in our known universe. We need to share and compare
with your Hommynids about this and show you the research we’re doing on
Mars. Together, you and our good Venusian professor might be able
to make a breakthrough in a project we’ve been working on for a while
now. Before we go into this any further, I’d like my sons to be
here with me to witness this. They’ve been monitoring our
discovery and conversations by robo-cams. Is it all right with
you, Captain Shane?” Lazarus deferred to Shane.
“Of course,
Admiral. I’d be pleased to see our brothers again.”
“Kyron, would
you please send Cable, David, and Jonathan to me?” Admiral Long spoke.
“As we speak,
Admiral.” the voice no sooner answered when there was another
bright flash of light, and there stood three of the most perfect, and
beautiful naked men Monty ever saw. He almost jumped into
Shane’s arms with excitement.
“Oh, my
God! They... they’re....” he stuttered.
“Like Dexter?”
Shane asked.
“Yes, but much
more sophisticated.” Monty allowed.
“Not to hear
them tell it, Son. I’d like you to meet my other brothers,
Monty. The largest is Cable, then David, and last but not least,
Jonathan. They are the sons of Admiral Long.” Shane introduced
them. They shook hands
with Monty. He was awestruck.
“It’s an honor,
gentlemen. You are... remarkable....so handsome. Dexter
already knows about you, don’t he?” he grinned.
“Thank you,
Monty. Yes, he knows. I'm afraid we've adopted Dexter as
our little
brother. We’ve become quite fond of him. Dexter, Bobby and
Maxine have visited us often in the last several days. There’s a
gate in the old barn to our sickbay where we live and work on our
father’s ship, the Bandersnatch. We’re always glad to see
them. They brings us a great deal of joy. We can’t tell you
how impressed we are with Dexter and his capabilities. In many
ways he’s more advanced than some of our functions.”
“Are you the
one’s who brought to his attention the ‘Goodnight’ variable?” Monty
smiled.
“No, together
with the help of our big brother Kyron, the evolved intelligence
onboard our ship, we explored his programming with him and found some
dormant clauses he didn’t know he possessed. He claimed he had no
previous knowledge of them, but seemed certain you didn’t place them
there. He unwittingly set up the subroutines when he gave himself
to Captain Shane. All he had to do was insert the variable
himself. No one had to give him permission or rewrite any of his
programming. It was self-actuating. It might be compared to
the gift of 'free will' in humans. Someone, somewhere, thought
our little brother was ready for the challenge.” Cable eloquently
explained.
Monty understood
every word Cable was telling him, and it became clear to him why Dexter
was acting the way he was. He was evolving. Monty was
watching it happen right before his eyes. Dexter was becoming
more than he was previously. There was a huge lump in Monty’s
throat and an even larger one in his heart which could only be
described as paternal pride. He took a deep breath to keep from
shedding a tear and his chest swelled to full capacity. His
little boy, his little brother was growing up. This was a good
sign. Everything was happening so fast, Monty knew if these men
were serious, he had fallen onto something wonderful; a fast track to a
better life for him and Dexter. Now he understood everything
Dexter was trying to tell him. He had to laugh at himself because
he once again underestimated his little buddy. He made a mental
note he was going to have to do another Dr. Smith routine on Dexter,
big time. Was his new master correct? Was Monty and Dexter
directed to them? It seemed to fit preconceived notions he held
of
how he came to be. Monty went on to show the men the wonders of
his other huge workroom. It was bustling with many more of the
Hommynids and subordinate workers. They were equally glad to see
Monty and to meet his new friends.
The two huge
rooms were filled with tables, workbenches and more benches along the
exterior of the walls. There were miles of glassware in shapes
you
might find in any high school or college research lab. Things
were bubbling and brewing all over the place. One might expect a
strong chemical odor but there was none. It all smelled very
fresh and clean not unlike a hospital operating room. Monty
explained he found a lot of the glass lab equipment outside the local
college’s science buildings. Later he ordered catalogues from
major lab glassware manufactures and would order a prototype of
something his workers needed. They would replicate as many as
they needed. They did much of their own glass blowing.
Monty estimated ninety percent of the glassware was created by his
workers. It was an impressive array of equipment. There was
no doubt they were capable of some very sophisticated experiments in
their lab. Monty showed the men
electronic machines none of them recognized. There were a couple
of ancient looking oscilloscopes running Lissajous patterns* created on
the scopes using double function generators to calibrate axis variables
of motor functions. Some of the machines Monty said he found in
the trash of the local college’s physics lab. A couple weren’t
working, but his team soon fixed them with parts he ordered from a
tech surplus parts supply company. There were machines
Monty tried to explain their functions to the men only to get blank
stares. They had no idea what he was talking about. There
were banks of huge plexiglass aquarium-like holding containers Monty
explained were for growing and curing different parts of the
bio-mechanicals and a couple for full body reproduction.
The most amazing
part to the men and bio-mechanicals observing all this was what was
created from limited supplies. Every old computer or electronic
device was dragged back to the lab and cannibalized. Nothing was
wasted. If there were parts left over from a project, they were
carefully labeled and stored away where they could be easily
retrieved. Everything was put to use and nothing was thrown
away. Shane could only imagine how many trips poor Jenny must
have made to and from some point of salvage harnesed to her little
two-wheeled cart. She certainly must not have minded. It
was obvious to everyone she loved Monty and Dexter without
measure. There were two levels of rooms identical in size to the
other shops on the other side of the dividing wall. More of the
same lab equipment filled both rooms. Monty converted the
lofts into observation platforms to observe the area from above.
It was reminiscent of early operating theaters.
In the upstairs
loft Monty showed the men a nearly completed, new, bio-mechanoid, adult
male, humanoid replicant laid out on a metal worktable that looked like
a surgical station. Monty explained to them it was intended as a
new body for Dexter, but it was far more advanced than his current
body. The new body didn’t need to be recharged with more than
sunlight. It also required food to keep its organically grown
structures and skin in good, sound working order. It was not only
anatomically correct, it was capable of sexual stimulation and
interaction with humans. It was perfect in every detail and its
face looked like a better looking double for Monty. The body was
far more well defined than Monty’s, but Shane planned to rectify that
soon enough. He had plans for Monty’s personal development.
What Bill Birdsall did for him, he would do for Monty, but with a
different, more charitable purpose in mind. He would see to
it Monty didn’t become anyone’s slave concubine, unless Monty chose to
consider that role for himself.
“You see, Master
Shane, this is why I didn’t want to share with Dexter until I showed
you. They have been working on this prototype now for almost five
years, but I kept it a secret from Dexter; at least, I think I
did. After a conversation we had the other day, I ain’t so sure
no more. In a way, it’s a great relief for me to share this with
you. I can pass the decision on to you whether you want a new
Dexter or you want to do something else with this almost completed
bio-mechanoid. I’ve nicknamed him ‘Scarecrow,’ ‘cause all he
needs is a brain.”
“So you intended
Scarecrow to become the new Dexter, Son?” Shane asked.
“Yes, Sir, that
was my plan, but when I met Shanna Ruggles and fell in love with her, I
began to think of long range plans. What if Shanna and I had
children? Dexter would more readily fit into the context of a
family like he is. He would be a perfect companion and teacher
for our
kids. I began to have doubts and second thoughts about changing
Dex. I thought it might be better to keep him as a smaller,
younger brother.”
“I understand,
Son." Shane spoke quietly, "It makes sense to me. It would
be easier to
deal with him as a child than a mature bio-mechanical, and it’s easier
to hide or explain away a small, cute android than a big one with
superhuman powers. Then, too, you’d have a new set of problems on
your hands helping him adjust to his new persona. I never
considered the possibility, but an adolescent android in a mature body
might require special attention. He might not suffer hormonal
changes or facial zits, but learning to become an adult overnight ain’t
no easy task under the best circumstances. Look at me, it took
me ten years longer than the average human. Sometime, I still
ain’t sure I got it right.” Shane grinned at him. Shane's
humility and self-effacement was one of his greatest charms to Monty.
“You very well
could be right about an adolescent android in a mature body, Sir.”
Monty agreed
with him. “Scarecrow has a proto-brain or what might be
analogized to our reptilian brain stems to keep his body functions
working. While he will respond to elementary commands; he ain’t
aware, but he can respond to stimulus. If you prick him, he will
jump.”
Lazarus
approached the table in awe. He never saw anything like it
before. The technology and intelligence which went into the
creation of the body lying on the metal table was way beyond his
sons. He doubted the Daleks* could create anything so
advanced. He shuddered to think what they might do if they gained
knowledge of Monty’s research. They would move heaven and Earth
or go to any lengths to gain this information for themselves.
They gave the term ‘industrial espionage’ new dimensions. If they
could, they would surely steal Scarecrow in an attempt to back engineer
him, but Lazarus didn’t plan to let that happen. He was convinced
Scarecrow was so much further advanced than any prototypes the Daleks
might be working on, they couldn’t back engineer him if they
tried. Like Humpty-Dumpty, they could take him apart, but Lazarus
knew they would never get him back together again.
No matter how
Shane chose to utilize the new bio-mechanoid, Monty and this plum
called ‘Scarecrow’ now belonged to Captain Shane and the Grange.
The most important thing was to discover how best to protect it and how
to integrate this new technology into their lives. All Lazarus’
doubts and second thoughts about the Hommynids began to fade.
Shane could feel the electricity in the air as the other men viewed the
new body-shell with the same reverent awe. Cable, David and
Jonathan were
enthused and thrilled. Lazarus never remembered a time his three
beautiful sons he loved so much were at a loss for words. They
were
still trying to digest the novelty and complexity of their new little
brother, but what they saw before them was staggering. Scarecrow
was far more advanced than they were. Once he was given a brain,
he would be magnificent.
“Unbelievable.”
whispered Lazarus. “In all my years I ain’t never seen no
bio-mechanical this perfect. What’s his structure, Son? Do
you know?”
“Yes, Sir, his
superstructure is a lightweight titanium alloy, but it’s actively
alive. He was grown. It can repair, regrow or replace
itself if damaged; so can any of the other parts of his body. He
is totally self-replicating. He weighs about half what an
ordinary human might of the same height and build, but he is stronger
than ten men. He can lift many times his own weight. He
will be fully functional and have body functions the same as any
human. He will even be able to produce his own sperm.
Ultimately, according to my team, there's a possibility of creating a
race of breeding
bio-mechanicals.”
“For what
purpose?” asked Lazarus almost like he was trying to think of an answer
himself.
“Perhaps
something similar to your description of how the Visallian warriors
relate to their society.” Monty replied. “There is a whole series on
the morality and uses of bio-mechanicals in my spheres. I ain’t
read through or seen a quarter of the presentations. What about
Gort, the guardian of Klaatu? Heinlein insisted an armed society
is a polite society.” Monty commented.
“Would he be
dangerous?” asked Gil Morris.
“I suppose he
could be, if he had something to defend, but as a bio-mechanical he
would not be programmed for violence unless you wished him to be
protective of you or your family. Then he could be programmed
only to protect in a passive manner; that is, to neutralize the threat
without violence or doing harm. He will be so powerful he could
do it efficiently and effectively without harming a human. Dexter
has similar programs. He saved my ass on numerous occasions.”
“So what you’ve
created here is basically your own laboratory which is self-contained
within these walls, and to bring this program to a halt would be
starting again from ground zero?” mused Admiral Long.
“Pretty much,
Sir, unless I can find another way. Now might be a good time to
share the spheres with you, gentlemen.”
The men left the
two lab rooms and Monty turned off the phase device which made the lab
and his workers once again invisible to almost anyone. Animals,
like dogs, cats and ponies could see them, and children under the age
of puberty, but it was unlikely the rooms would ever be visited by
such. Monty found his ornate box of spheres and had the men
gather around his dinning room table in the center of his huge living
area. He invited them to sit down leaving one empty chair next to
him. Monty was sitting in the middle of them. He explained
the empty chair was for the oracle. He opened the box before them
on the table. The spheres were as ornate as the box and were
marked with
corresponding runes or symbols on them. They were arranged in two
separate compartments. Each was approximately two inches in
diameter, and had a separate rune embossed in gold.
“Do you know
what they’re made of, Son?” Shane asked.
“I think so,
Master. I think they are mostly comprised of a white gold or a
platinum-titanium alloy, but the symbols on each are almost pure
gold. It is a very soft gold. They can be easily scratched,
but once I activate the control sphere of the first series of six they
never touch a surface.”
“What to do you
mean?” asked Waco.
“They defy
gravity and float in the air.” answered Shane.
“How did you
know that, Master Shane?” Monty smiled.
“I know what the
runes say, Son. I can deduce from their meanings how they should
react upon proper stimulus.” Shane commented as a matter of fact.
“How could you
know what they say? I don’t know what they say.” Monty challenged.
“Maybe you
weren’t suppose to know until now.”
“That would be
suggesting our lives are preordained in a theological sense, Sir.”
Monty insisted.
“Not
preordained, prearranged perhaps, or intelligently guided, but I assure
you, it has absolutely nothing to do with
theology. Social trends, chaos theory, the
mathematics of statistics, new understandings about the physics of
multiple universes, advances in artificial and evolved intelligence
programs
compiled by ultra-super computers taken to unimaginable new levels
become predictive to the point of precognition, but advanced, ancient
intelligence evolved to the level of excentricity, ex– out of– into
‘centricity’ or one, being the total sharing of any and all
intelligence generated in the universe; within defined guidelines and
enough data, limited precognition becomes an even
greater possibility. As a matter of fact, it becomes the norm
rather than random speculation. We’re slowly catching up with the
concept, like early man learned fire could be harnessed for his
comfort rather than destruction. This universal knowledge neither
seeks to dominate nor to be worshiped, but it will sometimes attempt to
protect
and guide to insure continuity. Most of all, it seeks balance in
all things, even those we stand against. We become analogous to
your Hommynids in the greater scheme of things, but enjoy much greater
freedoms.
We will introduce you to humans who are rapidly evolving into other
species who will amaze you. There are times of stress in the
universe when the usual process of slow evolution decides it can’t wait
millions of years for something to happen and great evolutionary leaps
are achieved almost overnight. One of our finest collectors of
animals and plant life from the Amazon has recently discovered a
sentient orchid capable of locomotion. It expresses emotions and
mates for life. It can learn; it uses tools; it has evolved a
primitive language, and it can communicate with us. It was never
discovered before because it was constantly on the move, and it can
mimic other plants to make itself undiscoverable. It is thought
to have evolved in the blink of an eye compared to other species, but
it is not without precedent, and it is the ultimate in evolution of an
already highly advanced biogenic type. It is the next step in
plant evolution. So far, it is the only plant known to be capable
of movement. Granted, it moves very slowly, almost sloth like,
but it can cover a lot of area in the trees over a twenty-four hour
day. Since it is epiphytic it gathers its nutrition as it
travels. It also captures insects and digests them in its
pouch. By comparison, look at what you and I have become; what we
can do in comparison to ordinary people. Less than a hundred
years ago we would be burned at the stake as warlocks. In some
parts of the rural South we probably still would be today. To be
honest, I’m amazed you’ve accomplish as much as you have without
understanding the signs.” Shane allowed.
“The learning
spheres are pretty much self-explanatory, but there is a guide.” Monty
explained.
“The oracle?”
Lazarus asked.
“Yes, Sir.
Here, I’ll show you. By the way, you may be surprised who I chose
to appear as avatar for the oracle.”
Monty carefully
picked up the first sphere and held it in his palm.
“Oracle?
Ben?” he spoke to it. The sphere started spinning in his hand,
and he removed his hand from beneath it. It stayed where it was
about two feet off the table. Suddenly a beam shot out from the
sphere to the chair next to Monty and there set a fully dressed, fine
looking middle aged, working cowboy.
“Howdy,
Ben.” Monty said as he stood to open his arms to the man.
“Howdy, Son,
good to see you again.” Ben said, as he slowly arose and embraced Monty
in a big bear hug.
“My, God, it’s
Sam the Lion, from ‘The Last Picture Show.’” Waco laughed. “It’s Ben
Johnson. He was a Pro Rodeo Cowboy Association champion team
roper in 1953.”
“Howdy,
gentlemen.” Ben Johnson spoke to the assembled group. “Let’s not forget
my Academy Award for best supporting actor for ‘The Last Picture Show,’
in 1971.”
“Of course not,
Ben.” Monty spoke to him, “Mr. Johnson and me got a connection.
Granted, it’s a slim one, but he got my attention when I watched the
film Major Dundee. I was interested because the name was the same
as mine, but I fell in love with the cowboy on the screen who played
Sergeant Chillium. I sort of got a major boy/man crush on him
after that, and he became my fantasy dad. I seen Mr. Johnson in
several other films and got interested in his career. I collected
all his films. The cowboy painting I done over my bed is Mr.
Johnson. When the spheres asked me to choose an avatar for my
oracle it jes’ seemed natural for me to pick him. It was a simple
matter for the intelligence within the spheres to extract him from my
memories and interpolate him,
but I wasn’t happy with the results. The creation they pulled
from my mind, weren’t the cowboy I fell in love with. The voice
was all wrong, and his attitude sucked. He was more like a prissy
old schoolmarm than a stoic, patient, understanding, mature
cowpoke. I think the intelligence got two images mixed. He
was like
Dr. Smith from ‘Lost In Space’ in cowboy drag. I wasn’t
comfortable working with him. If I was gonna’ be working closely
with the oracle, I wanted him to look and act like Mr. Johnson, so I
uploaded all his movies in which he plays a good cowboy for them to
extract the quintessential, bighearted, good-ole-boy, lovable
cowboy. I think they done a good job. To me he’ll always be
‘Sam the Lion’ from his excellent performance in ‘The Last Picture
Show.’
The men were
impressed by the avatar of Ben Johnson sitting among them. He
brought a comfort to them and took the strangeness off the advanced
technology of Monty’s spheres. It was like he was one of them and
spoke their language. He didn’t look like an artificial
projection. He seemed real and as Monty explained it, for the
moment he was real. Shane reached out to touch him and felt
the warmth of his body. The other men smiled. Sam the Lion
was as real as they were.
“Excellent
choice of avatars, brother.” grinned Waco, “I share your crush for Mr.
Johnson. My little brothers would shit their Wranglers if they
knew about this. The Coyotes are bat-shit crazy about Ben
Johnson.” he laughed.
“This form of
representation is much further advanced than we have perfected.
Would you mind telling us briefly how it works, Sir?” Admiral Long
asked.
“I’m a
collection of quantum dots or a streaming energy projection which
coalesceses into solid matter by means of a preset mold or definition
barriers to contain my present image; in my case, living tissue, human,
male, cowboy.
Closest analogy would be newspaper print. Billions of small dots
brought together to create a real time avatar who can interact with
users. I’m similar to the Hommynids Monty introduced you to, but
I’m more specific. I don’t operate in a Mobius loop
function. I'm a real time functionary. My program is serial
progressive but my embodiment is
created through three dimensional parallelism. I am created and
renewed moment to moment like your digital images in your holographic
projections with the exception, I am a serially created matter
stream. The serial stream is run though a device which acts very
similar to a prism what divides sunlight into its seperate wave
lengths. What you see is the collected energy/matter stream
within the boundries of the mold which defines me." Ben explained. “By
the way, we missed you, Son.” he said to
Monty.
“I know. I
missed you, too, Mr. Johnson. I’s in jail for six months,
Sir. We need some questions answered and perhaps a demonstration
for these gentlemen.”
“Where’s yore’
manners, Son? I done taught chu’ better’n ‘nat.” Ben gently
reprimanded Monty like a dad might.
“Sorry, Sir, of
course you did.” Monty went around the table with introductions.
Mr. Johnson shook hands with all of them including Cable, David and
Jonathan.”
The men got a
chance to experience for themselves he was, indeed, a physical presence
and a fairly compelling one at that.
“It’s a pleasure
to meet you men; especially you, Cable, David and Jonathan. You
are remarkably handsome and perfectly formed bio-mechanical men.
I’m impressed. Mr. Long, I got stories about you in my memory
banks what are attributed to legend, but here you are, bigger’n
life. I never thought I might have the honor to meet you,
Sir.” Ben turned to Monty and spoke, “And you introduced Mr.
Goodnight as your master? Are you now his slave, Son?” he asked.
“I am, Ben, but
more’n that, I gave myself to him just a while ago.”
“Good. I
approve. No sense in doing anything half-ass. Ain’t I
always told you to give yore’self to a good-hearted, strong, loving man
before you make any other ventures into this world?”
“You did, Mr.
Johnson, but unfortunately I didn’t follow your advice quite like you
suggested. I fell in love with a beautiful young woman who fell
in love with me. Her daddy didn’t approve of our relationship and
because of his money and power had me forcibly removed from her
life. I did finally give myself to a man who was my cell mate in
jail with me at the time. He weren’t the best man. I
wouldn’t have picked him to give myself to, but I did to keep peace
between us and out of boredom. Ironically, I think I fell in love
with him. He’s a slave now, but I hear from his son and his
ramrod he ain’t adjusting none too well. To tell the truth, I
ain’t surprised. He carries a lot of needless baggage around with
him, but I think he's growing weary of his heavy load.”
“You understand
there are reasons why things happen the way they do?" Ben asked
rhetorically. "You were allowing your hormones to rule your
head. You let the little brain in yore' saddle horn rule its
bigger brother what should be wearing the hat. You needed your
wildness checked. What better way to accomplish that than a good
dose of imposed humility. Coyote John only acted as a drag
parachute to help you land safely on your feet. Because of his
shortsightedness, he unwittingly served his purpose without ever
suspecting who you might be. He also served a purpose of becoming
an anchor for you to make an investment to keep you there for six
months. There is some question in your mind about his worthiness
of your dedication, but your ultimate decision to see him through his
time in jail has greater implication and ripples on the surface of time
than you can understand right now. It will become clearer to you
in time. Your experience in
jail and your dedication to Coyote John became a test of your will to
survive and not to escape from forced imprisonment. You could
have walked out any time you wanted or transported yourself back here
without them being the wiser, but you didn’t. It was your choice,
and I'm proud to say, you chose not to. We are most pleased with
you, young man. You successfully balanced one situation against
another and were rewarded with a new family who will help you become
more than you can imagine. Your new master has a good grip on the
concept of balance in all things. Now that you have given
yourself to him, trust him to guide you. Give him a chance, and
he will become your rock.
The personal restraint you exhibited while in jail is the result of
the self-control you learned from your training by the Ong
family. You’ve proven you are beginning to understand the
necessity for restraint to develop greater strengths necessary to
become a great leader. You ain’t ready for breeding yet.
You’re too damn young. You got many miles to travel before you
need
to consider or try to accomplish your biological prerogative. As
it is, your liaison with the Ruggles woman has brought about another
set of problems I won’t go into right now. They will be handled
at the proper time, but not by you. Your master and his
associates will take care of everything. Like your Hommynid
helpers, it will be up to you whether you wish to carry Coyote John
along in your wake. Besides, whatever voices or messages men hear
are only suggestions. It’s always best to listen and heed their
advice, but you have free will to ignore them. Your cell mate
refuses to listen to anyone but his own misguided voice, but that will
change. It has already begun with your bonding with Little Bear
and Ramrod Russell.
Learn from your
new master and his associates. Captain Shane learned his lessons
the hard way, but now he knows when to listen. He will teach you
if you let him, and what that man tells you he can do, he can.
We’ve been waiting for you, Captain Goodnight.” Ben smiled at
Shane. “You and your fine mate, Cole Jenkins, discovered the
story of Lazarus Long along with the ancient scrolls with
cyber-active runes just like the ones on these spheres. They were
placed there for you to discover. I don’t need to ask about your
successes on Mars or Venus. I can see in your mind you are a hero
to both worlds. I see a bronze plaque; a dedication to you at
Mars station; it is now known as ‘Goodnight Station.’
Congratulations! Good for you, Son. You’ve come a long way.”
“Thank you,
Sir. That’s where I learned about the runes and their
meanings. Along with our brother species, we opened Mars port and
discovered the wonders of the Krell civilization.”
“Krell
civilization? What are you talking about. That’s science
fiction nonsense. What’s going on, here, Ben?” Monty looked
puzzled.
“Life often
flows from the imagination and art of evolving civilizations,
Monty. Many times, fiction becomes a percursor of fact.
Consider the
works of Jules Verne or Authur C. Clark. A poet, not an
astronomer, was the first to imagine and
predict spiral galaxies were gigantic, massive collections of stars and
worlds. At one time or another, these concepts, names and ideas
are carried on the winds of consciousness. They know no time
barriers. Creative people are more attuned to them than most and
expresses them as music, fiction, graphic and physical arts or
poetry. Likewise, Captain
Shane knows of your genesis,
Monty. You
were guided to him and you became his to help you understand your
purpose in life. He don’t know ever’ thing. He’s learning
as he goes. This is as new to him as it is to you, but he’s
older, and in many ways much wiser than you at this point. You
need proper guidance and direction for what is to come in your
development. Captain Shane was the man yore’ daddy chose for the
job. We wouldn’t be having this conversation if you failed to
give yourself to him. Otherwise, you would have put Mr. Goodnight
and his people in too great a danger, and we wouldn’t allow that.
His purpose is potentially as great as your own; perhaps, more
so. We admonish you to listen to him and obey him in all matters,
and he and his associates will carry you along in their wake until
you’re ready to spread you own wings.”
“I promise, I
will, Ben. I have to find out what happens next.” Monty
grinned at his cowboy hero.
“Good.
Then it’s time Captain Shane gives us a hand and helps you unlock the
secrets of the last of your six spheres.” Ben stated.
“What about my
origins, Mr. Johnson? Can Captain Shane tell me about them?”
Monty asked.
“He could, but
there ain’t no need. Would you like to tell him why, Captain
Shane?”
“My best guess
is your father is waiting to tell you himself in the last of the two
spheres, Monty.” Shane said to everyone’s amazement.
“And you would
be correct.” confirmed Mr. Johnson, “Here, I’ll activate the other five
spheres in the first set. If you gentlemen will push your chairs
back aways from the table you will get a better view of the holo-screen
which will appear.” the men pushed back from the table. In what
order should the next of the first six spheres be activated, Captain
Shane?”
“Ox.” said Shane
with a grin.
“Correct.
Please touch it, Captain.” Shane reached forth and touched the
‘Ox’ rune with only one finger. It rose gracefully into the air,
took its place beside the original sphere and started spinning.
“And the original sphere was...?” Ben asked Shane.
“Rat?” smiled
Shane.
“Correct again.”
With the second sphere in place, a giant holo-vid screen sprang up over
the table and went from end to end. It was about four feet tall
by twelve feet long.
And the next,
Sir?” prompted Ben.
“Tiger.”
responded Shane. Monty was gobsmacked his owner knew more about
the runes than he did. Shane continued to name ‘hare’ ‘dragon’
then ‘snake’ to complete the launching of the first six spheres.
The holo-video screen was filled with information.
“The way this
works is pretty simple, gentlemen. You ask me what you want to
know, and I’ll display it on the screen. I put up a few
things to get your started thinking. All of this information can
be moved forward or backward, page after page.” explained Mr. Johnson.
“How could you
know this, Master Shane?” Monty pressed.
“How could you
not?” Shane smiled at him, “To be honest, Monty, I’ve been exposed to
these runes before and was taught about them through my experience on
Mars opening the secrets of the Krell civilization. I’m
surprised, because if you speak and read Chinese you should know
what they stand for. These runes ain’t Chinese, but they’re so
simple, it makes me think you probably thought they were more difficult
than they are. Perhaps, you were looking for something more
complicated. Remember the first axiom of problem solving;
consider the most simple explanation first. Look at them
carefully. They have similarities to several logographic
languages like Mayan and Chinese. They represent the twelve signs
of the zodiac or the path of the sun across the heavens through the
constellations that divide the ecliptic into twelve equal zones of
celestial longitude. Early man gave them simple names to remember
them and how they appeared to them in the night sky. The Mayan
and the Chinese symbols are remarkably similar. After ‘snake’
comes horse, goat, monkey, rooster, dog, and finally pig.”
“Of course, that
makes perfect sense. How could I be so dense?” Monty bemoaned.
“Y’ain’t stupid
by no stretch, Son.” said Ben. “You jes’ weren’t ready for the
information. Unless you come up with it, I was instructed to
purposely hold it back from you until Captain Shane came along.” the
big, handsome cowboy smiled at
him.
“Before you go
further, Mr. Johnson,” Lazarus interrupted, “is there a way to suspend
the two programs Monty has in motion. It would be a shame if we
had to shut down the whole operation and lose what he and his
assistants have accomplished so far. The information could prove
invaluable to our ongoing research we are conducting on Mars with some
of the brains of the physically deceased bladder whales. We have
two which seem to have expired completely, but about two dozen more
whose bodies were so destroyed by an attack by the gray race, our men
couldn’t repair them. We harvested their brains, they’re still
alive and well, but we need to find a use for them. We’ve
considered using several in the new ships our people are jointly
building with the Venusians. Our bio-mechanical men checked out
Dexter’s brain and found it remarkably similar to the organically grown
brains of the whales.”
“They are almost
identical. I heard you ask Monty earlier if he knew where the
prototypes of the hommynids came from, and the Rarebits were as you
suspected, symbiotes of the whales. What magnificent creatures
the whales are. We’ve heard on the winds, the songs of heroism
and dedication your people and Captain Shane in particular have given
so freely to the whales. You are to be highly commended for your
actions, and within reason, have drawn a free pass with us. We
will assist you anyway we can, but unfortunately we can’t shut down
Monty’s programs without losing everything. Remember the early
days of computing when you shut down a machine you lost everything in
random access memory? Well, this is a similar situation, but it’s
different in the structure and function of the loops. Loops of
information are compounded day to day to build, not in a serial manner,
but a logarithmic explosion and can’t be duplicated. There simply
isn’t enough storage capacity available in such small instruments as
you see before you, even with compression; therefore, for power
consumption and the logarithmic effect of research and knowledge gained
becomes exponential. To attempt such a feat would require as much
energy and storage capacity as represented by all the suns of a small
galaxy. We’re working on it; that is, the concept of using
galaxies themselves as vast storage arrays of knowledge. But for
right now, to continue and have access to Monty and his assistant’s
research and the fruits of their labors you will have to physically
move the entire works as a whole.”
“That won’t be a
problem, Sir.” said Lazarus with a smile.
“I didn’t figure
it would be, Admiral Long.” Ben grinned.
“No
problem? I don’t understand, Ben. How the hell are they
gonna’ move my two workrooms without tearing them down? It would
destroy the continuum.”
“Easy,
Son. Admiral Long has complete cities on board his
spaceship. It would be nothing for him to miniaturize this entire
piece of property and place it on a four by eight containment area with
all the necessary hookups for clean water and power. Or he could
simply choose to move it to the Potter/Goodnight ranch. Your
granddad told Captain Shane he could take the whole damn barn if he
wanted, if he’d just go away and leave him be. He said he
weren’t gonna’ use it no more noways. Them’s his exact words,
Son.” Ben smiled and winked at Monty. He continued,
“Captain Shane’s ship ain’t got no properties on it, but he has bays
and containers for hundreds of thousands of acres. He just ain’t
started collecting yet, but he will.”
“How do you know
all this, Mr. Johnson?” smiled Shane.
“I’m probably
the first multitasking buckaroo you ever done seen, Son. I been
conversing with Kyron, Ms. Maybelle, Ms. Myra and met all the other
evolved intelligences of the other shuttle craft while I been talking
with you
men. I’ve been running through your files and have been amazed
and thrilled by what you men have been up to; the number of threatened
races you’re helping; the amount of animal species and information
you’re gathering from this planet is staggering; your bonding and
breeding with other races to encourage their survival; the discovery of
a couple of races unknown even to us; the evolutionary leap of a couple
of your men who are becoming a new species happens so rarely in the
universe the chances are infinitesimally small, and you Captain Waco,
cloned your own body to give your silicon brother a more mobile home,
but when the body developed a personality of its own you helped them
conjoin to become a successful chimera; what’s more, your people
discovered a new evolutionary species of a sentient, walking plant
which can communicate with humans. What you’re trying to do, and
what you’ve done so far is absolutely amazing, but beyond that, you’re
trying to gather and preserve critters who have become extinct on some
worlds. I have contacted our home world, and have been given
approval to offer you our full assistance and the complete knowledge of
the data bases contained within these storage devices. Monty, you
were destined to meet these men. Captain Shane was right, it was
prearranged. You’re where you should
be right now, but you ain't got no idea where you landed, boy.
You ain’t in Kansas anymore, Son.” Ben grinned at him.
“That’s what my
little brother done told me, Mr. Johnson.” Monty said quietly.
“Take it from
this old cowboy, you done well to throw your lot in with these
men. You can help them, and they can see to it you grow into your
manhood with a healthy disposition and optimistic outlook on
life. I think your little brother put it best, ‘My brother done
passed ‘go,’ collected two hundred dollars, landed on 'free parking'
and collected the jackpot, but he don’t even know
it.’” Ben Johnson laughed. Monty grinned. It sounded like
something Dexter would say. He used to whip the pants off Monty
at Monopoly. The outside edges of the huge concrete floor of the
shack was
painted like an enormous Monopoly board. Monty and Dexter found
two old rusty kiddie cars someone threw away. They rebuilt them,
painted them up like hot rods with flames shooting down the sides and
would ride to their new destination after the throw of a huge set
of Styrofoam dice they found. They used regular Monopoly money,
but they invented new things to discover if they landed on ‘chance’ or
‘community chest.’ All these mementos and trinkets were still
around. They only added to the wonder of the place.
At Ben’s urging,
Monty made a brief demonstration how he could interface with the
holo-video screen in front of them. He impressed his audience by
moving information around and showing how he could put a question to
the spheres and find the answer. It was all very logical, but it
required some time, thought and intuitive talent to manipulate the
various sections of the screen and keep the correct pages coming
forward. It was obvious to everyone including Ben, Monty became a
master manipulator of the resources the
spheres had to offer, but the men could tell his heart wasn’t in
it. For the sake of manners and politeness, Monty was going
through the motions and trying his best to seem interested and
entertaining, but alas, his concentration was being pulled away by a
greater force. After all these years of not knowing, he finally
had the key which would open the secrets of his past, and perhaps, even
his future. The opportunity to see what the other six spheres had
to offer was like circling the event horizon of a black hole. Ben
could tell he was becoming weary of explaining and answering questions
and posing their questions for the spheres.
“Sit down,
Son.” Ben told him and offered his hand to return to his seat
next to him. Ben continued, “I know you men must have a thousand
more questions. That’s expected. One revelation leads to
another set of questions and so on. You’ll have plenty of time to
spend with Monty getting used to them and learning what they might have
to offer. As you can see, the boy is frustrated and anxious to
see what more wonders the final six spheres have to offer. Monty,
since Captain Goodnight now owns you and all your personal property has
been transferred to him, I think it would be the proper thing to allow
him to set the last six spheres into motion.”
“Of course, Mr.
Johnson, I just want to find out about my past and how I came to be.”
he said respectfully.
Shane touched
the next six spheres in sequence. It took him sometime because
the men were trying to make sense of the voluminous amount of new
information flooding across the screen. It was like watching
previews of coming attractions at a move theater. The information
implied all these marvelous things were possible and could be learned
and built by the owners of the spheres. It was an incredibly
staggering array, a storehouse of a vast repository of advanced
knowledge. Shane started the ‘horse’ sphere. As each sphere
became active a huge representation of its cognomen as title would
appear. The horse was a magnificent creature and reminded Waco of
his beloved Shires.
Shane continued with goat, monkey, rooster,
dog and the last sphere named ‘pig.’ There was a small box
on the bottom of the screen that contained the initials S. H. and a
picture of a mature man who looked a lot like an older, mature
Monty. Ben reached up and touched the box. A beam of light
went out to a space between Monty and Ben and formed another man.
He was taller than Monty but appeared considerably more buffed with a
mature
body. He looked like a Marine drill sergeant. Like Monty,
he wore his hair in a medium length and its color was a sandy
blonde. He stood for a moment looking at the young
man. Monty got up slowly from his chair in awe. He knew who
the man was immediately.
“Dad?” Monty
asked.
“Yes, Montana,
I’m your father. More precisely, I’m a composite of both your
dads. You have two fathers. Since I’m the alien part who is
creating this message I’ll start by explaining my participation in your
conception. In 1977 the people of Earth’s NASA space program
thought it would be a clever and magnanimous idea to send a gold
iodized recording as a greeting from the people of Earth along with
the scientific equipment on Voyager Seven. They gave information
about the people of Earth and provided star maps and directions how to
get
to your planet. They sent it as an invitation for alien races to
come visit. I was sent to Earth by our world as a peaceful
ambassador in response to their kind invitation, only to be met with
hostility and have my spaceship shot down. Some systems went off
line long enough to cause me to crash land on your granddad’s farm.
Your mother was
an exceptionally brave woman, Son. I was wounded and needed
assistance getting out of my craft. Since we are beings of pure
energy, I was totally alien to her and something to be feared and
avoided. I called to her in her mind. Against her stronger,
natural impulses of fear and flight, she came to me and with my
instructions managed to release me from my physical bonds. She
allowed me to enter her body for a brief period of time to transport me
outside my craft. There was nothing more she could do for me
other than to offer me comfort, but when our minds conjoined I met your
other father whom she loved very much, and for whom, she was still
grieving. As I lay there trying to recover, I formed myself to
look
like him so she could more easily accept me.
Your biological father was a fine man by
the name of Scott Hayden whom she secretly married before he was
shipped off
to one of your government’s many middle East wars where he was
killed. Scott tried to impregnate her before he was sent, but she
had some minor internal female problems that wouldn’t allow her eggs to
descend. I had no genetic
material to complete him until she provided me with a lock of his hair
she carried along with a small picture of him in a locket around her
neck. From a single strand of his hair, I copied his DNA
structure and became his physical clone. When I took physical
form and recovered enough she took me to a competent small town
physician who managed to see to my wounds. I was able to heal a
carbon based body more quickly than I could my own.
We returned
to your grandad’s farm, and I managed to hide my craft beneath the rise
back of the East fork of the creek bed. We left your granddad’s
farm and were on the road traveling for almost a year playing cat and
mouse with military and government agents. I had a chance to see
your country and get to know your people on a personal basis. I
probably
wouldn’t have had the opportunity if I was apprehended by your
government. I got
to know them as one of their kind. For all their short comings, I
saw something great and wonderful within most of the humans I
met. I found the least of them capable of great compassion and
generosity under the severest of situations. I found they were at
their very best under the worst conditions. Total strangers came
to our aid during our darkest and most dangerous times; many times,
placing themselves in great peril by helping us.
One thing I
hadn’t counted on was, your human bodies carry genetic memories as well
as those stored in your brains, and once I became Scott’s clone, I
began to regain his memories and personality. We were like two
entities living in the same body. A chimera, if you will.
You don’t know about chimeras, but Captain Waco and his associates are
quite familiar with the term. His identical brother, sitting next
to him, is
a chimera of two different life-forms. When humans speak of
loving from
their hearts, it isn’t just a feeling or a metaphor. Every cell
in the human body, major muscles and organs in particular, record
almost as much information as your brains but in a different, more
subtle way. That’s why humans and many higher animals have a
sense of a soul which feels like it surrounds their bodies rather than
dwelling solely within their brains. That which is ‘you’ radiates
out from your bodies about twelve to fifteen inches. That’s also
why you need physical contact with each other to maintain sound mental
and emotional health. I ain't talk'n sex neither, and forget
about apples. One good hug a day will keep the doctor away.
Your mother fell
in love with me and her husband once again. That part of me which
became Scott loved your mother very much, and since I was capable of
repairing her physically, he urged me to ask her if she still wanted
his child. I repaired her female problem and fertilized her
before I had to leave to return to my world. She was a month
pregnant when I left. If I didn’t leave I wouldn’t have
survived. I would have perished. For me to survive Scott
had to give up his second chance for life, and your mother had to lose
both of us. Your alpha parents, Scott and Ginny Hayden, were two
of the most remarkable and compassionate humans I ever met. It
was their decision
to help me get back to my people. I was willing and offered to
depart from Scott and die here on your world, but they insisted I
return to my people. They came to that decision on their own
without my influence.
I already made up my mind and departed from
Scott. Scott chose to see me back to my planet and gave his life
for me. They sacrificed much and had to suffer the pain of their
loss again. After I left
Earth, your mother gave birth to you at a deserted ranch in the area of
Butte, Montana assisted by some kindly American Indian people.
She decided
to give you the state’s name, Montana. My name in my language
means the same as the sun which my planet orbits known by your people
as Polaris, the North star; so, she gave you my name second. You
carry your grandfather’s last name because Ginny didn’t want him to
know she married Scott behind his back. He is a very small
minded, stubborn little man. He frustrated and enraged your
parents many times, but he was their only contact with the area, and
they needed him.
By the way, your father and mother’s marriage is
a matter of public record. Judge Potter should be able to find
the information for you. According to Earth traditions, your
family or surname should be ‘Hayden.’ Perhaps Mr. Dundee never
told you about me or Scott.” the handsome man surmised.
Monty shook his head as tears formed in his eyes. The image of
his father continued, “You are not
totally human, Monty. You are a hybrid of two races. When
Admiral
Long’s sons take a blood sample from you, they will be amazed by your
blood structure. I altered your DNA and blood to become the best
human you could be. You probably have discovered some of your
powers, but according to your oracle, who reports back to us regularly,
you have been good about not using them around people who wouldn’t
understand. I tried to foresee as many difficulties for your
future as possible.
I never wanted to consider our beloved Ginny
might become ill and her life come to an end so young, but fortunately
I provided for such an occurrence. I knew by the age of five you
would be able to initiate the basic sphere which would introduce you to
the oracle and guide you to produce a companion and protector for
yourself. The irony of
your grandfather’s exclusion of you from his life is, with your powers
you
could have healed your mother, but after she became very ill, he never
allowed you to see her again. He unwittingly allowed her to die
when the miraculous help he so ardently prayed for was living on the
same property. For your sake, I urge you to forgive him, but
don’t feel sorry for him. He is what he wants to be.
You
will never be able to reach him. When ignorance surpasses
intellect it becomes a terminal disease filled with lies, half-truths
and superstition. He has lived his life in ignorance, never
questioning his beliefs, and he will die in ignorance never having
gained enough light to assure his progression. His only chance to
progress to a higher state was his seed he passed on to you
through your mother, but he turned his back on you, denied you your
rightful heritage from him, and must suffer the consequences. He
is but one small, failed cell, a cancer within the greater body of life
on your planet. To put it bluntly, he is a dead end street.
There will be no redemption for him or his kind.
I have provided
you with a new family who are more advanced than you at this
point. Walk into their light. Accept them as family, go
your way and never look back. They are the very salt of this
Earth. They represent the best, the basic truth and goodness of
the people of this planet. While their origins are humble, they
have
become wise enough to listen to the guiding voices of their universe,
the
ancient voices on the winds of consciousness which flow through all
sentient creature’s thoughts. Only those who contain the spark of
the light of truth and the goodness of spirit required, are capable of
hearing and understanding the songs and voices. It was not by
accident you have been
given to them for your protection and education. They have much
to teach you and you have much to share with them in return. You
are no longer alone, my Son.” the projection paused for a moment
when Monty broke into sobs. His father went to him and took him
into his arms. “There, there,
Son. I’m so sorry this couldn’t have come about earlier, but
things had to progress in sequence. You needed to learn some
lessons on your own first. Just remember, you are the product of
three life-forces who love you very much and watch over you.”
“Did you make it
home safely, father?” Monty asked.
“I did, and
while
your second dad couldn’t exist in our atmosphere, he lived for a while
in a life support system we created for him. He didn’t do
well. While I visited him and communed with him regularly, I was
aware he was becoming depressed and despondent. He wanted to end
his existence and began to refuse food. We couldn’t let that
happen, so it was mutually agreed, because of his great sacrifice we
would absorb him into our consciousness. He is the first entity
outside our civilization to be given such an honor. The second is
your dear mother. We made arrangements to accept her
consciousness to be with her beloved husband and me. Scott and I
traveled back to Earth to receive her life-force into our
keeping. They now live happily among us and Scott is the coauthor
of this message. We have conjoined to create this, so it is both
Scott and myself who are holding you at this moment.”
“Does he know me
and feel love for me, Sir?” Monty asked quietly.
“I do, Son, more
than you will ever know. You complete me, the noble Polaris and
your mother. Your mother couldn’t be prouder of you and sends her
love.” Scott answered.
For some reason
he couldn’t explain at the moment, Monty turned from the image of his
two fathers and found his master’s waiting arms. Montana Polaris
Dundee-Hayden didn't feel like he was alone in the world anymore.
In
Shane's big, brotherly arms, he was now part of a much larger
family.
End of Chapter
63 ~ Waco’s Lummox
Copyright 2008 ~
Waddie Greywolf
All Rights
Reserved ~
Mail to:
waddiebear@yahoo.com
*From the song,
“If I Only Had A Brain” ~ Music: Harold Arlen ~ Lyrics: E. Y. Harburg
from the 1939 film, “The Wizard Of Oz”
*Lissajous patterns: http://www.math.com/students/wonders/lissajous/lissajous.html
*Daleks: http://www.bigbadtoystore.com/bbts/product.aspx?product=UND10130&mode=retail&picture=out