Driver, T. C. (12 page)

Yes, that training back in Brazil had been state of the art, I had thought, and said so as we parted.

Two young Asian gals, K-21 and K-28, led me to a room in Patel's Palace. My backpack and wool blankets were already in the room. My old stuff looked out of place against the polished, marble floor. I told a fancy, uniformed man that the girls did not need to stay, but to thank Jediah very much for them.

Now, alone in my room, I thought about the football games and the Great Ark. The America I had grown up in losing power in the world. I asked God what I should do next, and thanked him for his great mercy and the many blessings in my life.

How real those football games looked,
I thought to myself. They could not be distinguished from a live T.V. Broadcast. Just the sports T.V. alone would be worth billions of dollars. Teams would not have to pay make-believe players. What could men do with this type of technology? What about a newscast? Was it being done already? The Holy Bible clearly states that even the very elect will, and can, be fooled. How will I know the truth? Who are these men? How rich and powerful are they?

For the next seven weeks, I was Jediah's playmate. He would summon me to his eight floor game room and we would play like children for hours. The first day on a new game, Jediah would have the advantage. By the second or third day, I would catch up and begin to beat him often. I always tried hard to beat the tall, lanky bastard; something that was rare in his pampered, closed-off world. He respected me for that. Even loved and valued me because of it. As I got to know him, I found him even younger in age than I had first thought. Jediah Emin Patel was king of his castle, though only a boy. He could order blood and terror as easily as his morning eggs and rye toast.

At each of our formal dinners at his long fine table he would have on most evenings, at least forty, and up to one hundred people. He would stay dressed up and 'grown up' into the evening, being a true boy at play only in the mornings and only in his private game room. When time came for fencing and boxing games, I beat him quickly and easily from the beginning. He added my 'moves', as he called them, into his computer simulation and said I was invaluable (ha-ha). I told him my 'moves' were from formal lessons, topped off with living in South Chicago for a year, and then military combat training. I noticed my young friend wore a small head cap, like the ones American Jews wear ceremoniously. Also, he was supervising the construction of a new palace.
 
This was a vast undertaking with many workmen. A large medical staff of doctors, nurses and men in waiting, constantly took measurements of Jediah. On day in the play room, while hidden from view with my game helmet off, I heard a nurse tell a doctor on the phone, “Yes, he is over one half. Part from both sides, just like the older! We don't know what will happen. He is still fourteen months from his scripture testing.” I realized that my young friend, though very tall, was not even eleven years old yet.

After a seven week stay at young Patel's fine palace, and many long 'adult' talks after dinner, he offered me a job as one of his staff pilots. The depth of his general knowledge, his wide interests, was simply amazing. Jediah fluently spoke in at least five languages. It became obvious why the handlers that had 'raised him' were now becoming afraid of him. His older servants thought he was out of control. They often complained about his women. These were mostly Asian girls who attended to his every whim of sex, drink, games and food. He had absolute power over his house, even life and death, this all as a young boy.

When Jediah offered the pilot job, I gladly accepted it. We had six Lear jets; each four years old; each custom made for his personal use. His powerful uncle kept two air force type 747 planes and one 777. Jediah loved his Lear jets. With their plus size engines, we could climb in a hurry. Jediah, his uncle and ten other large estates shared a private airport. The servant's housing formed a small town in this gated community. All of which was separate from the province that his uncle owned. This province was a valley the size of the State of Massachusetts. It had one major city six large towns, and a population of over fifteen million people. Patel was seldom on his own planes. Most flights were to pick up dinner guests. No public or chartered flights ever came to his private airport. Both he and his uncle had been at the big air show in their private box, unknown and unseen. He laughed about almost buying two new B48s, but didn't like the maintenance package. Boeing had too many strings. For the next fourteen weeks, I lived in a 'pilot' house. I was in the single, or bachelor, section. Work and flying was enjoyable and I wanted for nothing. My pay stub was completely different from Ark pay. I wondered if the Great Ark and Captain Coe knew of my existence on this side of the grass (ha-ha).

About twice a week or so, I would be summoned by a servants or nurses text to come to Jediah's room where I would try to beat him at a new game. These games were played in HD virtual reality. The helmets, gizmos and suits were so real, I often could not sleep. Nightmares became common for me for the first time in my life. I grew so weary of the play, that I dreaded it. Prayer and reading the Holy Bible became a daily routine for me during this time. I declined Jediah’s many offers of female companionship. His Asian girls, who were mostly from Thailand, with a few Vietnamese, and some American blondes thrown in, were often very tempting. My young friend asked if I needed virgin girls that could be properly, and lawfully, 'taken to wife' by me. I told him about my ex-wife, Patty, and being Holiness. Jediah had many questions, some of which I could not answer, during our short Bible study time together. The words 'As in the days of Noah, so shall it be. As in the days of Noah, so shall it be' tormented my soul!

Once on a Sunday evening, I was summoned to Jediah's palace by Karla, or K-one, the lady who first picked me up. I learned she was named or called Miss Connie. Karla was her title. It was after dinner, so I showed up dressed in black tie, knowing better than to offend. Jediah Patel was talking with two men and three women from something called 'Tower Watch'. Jediah wanted my input into the teachings of God JEHOVAH, these being his witnesses. I could hear myself speaking, but I did somewhat lose control of myself. A spring of speech flew out of me speaking of scriptures I had just read the night before. Test the Spirits, Jediah. Beware of false, changed names and corrupted spelling. The power to deceive in water and to deceive the Saints of God is in this root word, of Jehovah. YAHWAY is closer and much preferred. Jesus is the name above every name! No other name is given by which a man must come to God. Every spirit that does not proclaim that Christ came in the flesh and died on the cross to redeem this fallen world is not of God. The big men of Patel's drew near to me as I drove the 'Tower Watch' people through the palace and out through the front door, but Jediah stayed them with his hand. As I slammed the big front door shut behind them, I started coming back into my right mind and apologized to Jediah for my behavior. He was laughing so hard at my rampage that he could hardly stand up or control himself.

“Thank-you, Cornelius” he said. Jediah’s servants
  
then brought me red wine without me ordering. Then we talked into the night about many topics. We talked about the Holy Bible and the death of his Father. Jediah said some things as we parted about his Father that I did not understand. He said that powerful men worldwide had not known who I was, but now his uncle had my complete birth record. My file was all up to date. Much of this conversation I was not able to understand. I questioned his respect, yet hate, of his Father. His life of privilege, of early childhood power, of wealth, was not an easy one. This tall, lanky boy/man carried his own burdens, as do we all. I was glad to see that side of his life. I was proud to count Jediah Emin Patel as my friend. And very glad I did not have him as an enemy!

One Thursday morning, I flew Jediah Patel to the new International Spaceport in Australia. The large harbor was under heavy construction with large cranes taking root and reaching for the sky like bean shoots. They were growing seemingly everywhere. Many thousands of Chinese workers attended to the beans, working non-stop. Our group of four Lear jets went into a holding pattern lasting twenty minutes. I saw two, old, American style aircraft carriers parked outside the port, a stirring sight against the green-blue sea. One more carrier was in port at dock. It was the Great Ark, with its big back door open to the harbor.
Won't old Joe Coe be surprised to see me!

During the next seven weeks, I stayed at one of the eighteen new Hampton Inns near Spaceport Harbor. Another hotel opened while I was there. They all looked the same. All were owned, I believe, by the Patels.

Our four Lear jets brought six engineers apiece, plus Jediah Patel and one old man named Japeth Jones. All these men worked for Jediah's uncle. Four of these men were American and they were with me. One of these was older, He was a black engineer named Ralph Edward Low. Ralph was more laid back or 'sane' compared to the many overenthusiastic younger types, who were referred to by Ralph as the 'go-getters'. Ralph was more to my speed and liking. At least he took the time to talk. We became fast friends, more so than the others. Ralph took me on two helicopter tours of the Spaceport. Both were unbelievable; fantastic even! This was his job also he designed tours and films of the Spaceport for tourists. Ralph pushed the 'vision' to the public. People like me. Ralph's helicopter tours were not yet open to the general public. He was writing an employee handbook for the tour guide personnel. He also gave me three DVDs which he had produced about the spaceport. Or rather his company, Eagle Engineering, had produced. The plans for the Spaceport and the Space Station were so big that it all sounded like wild dreams. All about exploring, living and working throughout our solar system, and then one day going to the stars. This spaceport was over half built and was partially operational. It will be going strong by 2017. Ralph spoke into a speaker horn from the shotgun seat of the chopper.

“The Old Man does it his way! We don't need to ask why! It works and we are the world leaders. The first grand station will be built. I'm sure of it. This station and many others will be built of many rocket fuel tanks that are all the same size, each more than sixty feet wide and more than three hundred feet long. Many tanks will be put into orbit using this Spaceport system here in Australia. Others will use huge rockets and eight space shuttle type boosters to push them into orbit. Europe, Japan, China, Russia, Old USA and now Babel Iraq will all 'rocket up' supplies, fuel sections and men.”

“Babel Iraq, are you serious, Ralph?” I shouted.

“Yes. Persia and the Saudi's are partners!”

“My God Ralph, as in the days of Noah, so shall it be! As in the days of Noah, so shall it be!” I said.

“Don't talk that Bible stuff around here, Cornelius. These men are serious scientists. You might insult them” Ralph replied. Under my breath I muttered “Good Lord! I’m scared for this world

Ralph interrupted me while pointing to an illustration. “This is what the Grand Station looks like! Each section, or tank, is sixty feet wide and over three hundred feet long. The cap on each end is a half sphere
 
with intersecting flanges, these ends can come off in space to form round balls. The 287ft length comes from two tanks joined overlapping. Seven twenty foot wide tanks can be inside of a large sixty foot tank. It can be empty or smooth bored, depending on the use of each tank in the station. The large and small tanks both have end caps. Each tank is over 300ft. The sixty foot wide tanks come in these two types. First a smooth bore (for oceans) and the other filled by seven interior pipes (for living quarters). Each of the smaller tanks is 'almost' twenty feet wide. Twenty-six of these large tanks form a circle, also in groups of seven. They form a rotating ring in space, 7,462 feet around. A station can have many rings.”

“The center 20 ft tank is always the hallway. Rings toward the outside are half full of water, with farm land on top. Some have trains hanging from above. The most protected sections are the living and working sections. Boating and fishing, even water-skiing, would be possible in the large rivers under the farms.”