Sentinels of the Cosmos Trilogy (21 page)

“Correct, from Russia,” replies Ivan.
“You are Jew?” Hank continues to pry.
“No Jew,” Ivan says.
“Then how did you get into the U.S.?” Hank asks.
Ivan is getting clearly more and more upset and says,
“I immigrate.”

“But how, I’m curious?” Hank asks "I’m interested
because I have a friend who wants to get a friend of
his out of Russia. I thought you might know
something."
Ivan’s face begins to twitch saying, “You smart guy, I
come through proper channels. I apply and wait, and
then they admit me. Tell your friend to wait his turn.”

“Oh! I thought you might be one
of these ex-KGB
guys,” Hank says disappointed.
“There no more KGB, I work for electric company in
Russia, always want come to U.S.A., land of free,”
Ivan says.
“Oh, so where did you get the scars?” Hank asks as
Ivan puts another pallet on the truck

“I fight in Mid East War,” Ivan says.
“Stupid war; like our Vietnam right?” Hank asks.
“Right!” Ivan says.
“I still think you’re ex-KGB, and you came over here
to give information in exchange for asylum. I like
your fake moustache, but it’s drooping,” Hank says.
“I hiding from wife,” Ivan says as he tries to put the
moustache back on straight.
“Really?” Hank says laughing. "That is the worst
mustache I've ever seen in my life. Ed, look at that
moustache - it's not going to fool anybody, and why
would you want to hide from your wife?"
Ivan puts the last pallet into the truck and says,
"Please not say anything. I owe wife lot of money.
She can't find me.”
“Sign here please,” Ivan says and passes the clip
board and pen to Hank.
“Sure, I hope you work out that problem with your
wife,” Hank says uncomfortably as he signs for the
load.
“Yes, problem with wife…” Ivan is upset. He clearly
doesn’t know what to do in this situation. Should he
just kill them or let it go. He reaches in his pocket for
the long switch blade, but then notices people clearly
standing nearby.
“Well, nice talking to you Ivan,” Hank says as he
jumps into the front seat of the truck and says quietly
to Ed, “let’s get out of here, now! This guy is a whack
job.”
Ed starts up the truck and they pull away from the
loading bay and onto Lafayette Avenue on their way
to the Bruckner Expressway.
“Something goin’ on there for sure, he’s got a fake
moustache; man, I think he’s part of the Russian mob.
I’ll bet there are diamonds or some kind of valuable
stuff in those boxes. Let’s see what we got here?”
Hank gets up, goes into the back of the truck and rips
open a master case, takes out a box and goes back
into the cab, saying, “Damn, its envelopes, whoa!
Smell that, it smells like fried chicken,” Hanks says.
Ed reaches over, takes out one of the envelopes, licks
it and says, “It tastes just like fried chicken, try it if
you don’t believe me?”
“I don’t have an eating disorder like you,” Hank says.
“It’s an envelope asshole, taste it,” Ed says.

“No! It’s not lunch time; I’m not eating between
meals,” Hank says.
“And you think I have eating disorders, you’re sick,
you know that. I don't believe that stuff about his
wife. I think you're right. He’s part of the Russian
mob. There is something not right about these
envelopes,” Ed says.
“Shut up fat boy, we’re going back there tonight. I
know there is something good in that warehouse other
than envelopes. Maybe the warehouse itself holds the
answer,” Hanks says.
"You're going to get us killed, let's just do what we do
and deliver and leave. We just transport, that’s what
we do. Why do we always have to make something
out of every little thing? Just leave it alone Hank.
These may be dangerous people, what we have in this
truck is just envelopes, tasty tasting envelopes," Ed
pleads.
"You have no sense of adventure, I’ll bet there are
millions in contraband in that warehouse," Hanks
says, looking disgusted.
"Learn when to leave it alone Hank, just leave it
alone. I have a bad feeling about this job." Ed pleads.
"You have a bad feeling about everything" Hanks
complains.
"No, just crazy Russians that look like they've killed
500 people with fake drooping moustaches who have
us delivering plain white envelopes that taste like
fried chicken to the Electric Company. Do you not
see that there is something wrong with this picture?"
Ed asks.
"Not really, it all says opportunity to me," Hanks
squeaks.
"I have a bad feeling about this, a very bad feeling.
I'm hungry hand me another one of those envelopes,"
Ed complains.

Beneizen Brewster sat on a small cushion in the lotus
position, meditating. He was of medium height with a
bald shaven head, round faced with clear blue eyes,
trim, not muscular, but had a small round Buddha
tummy. His tropical home sat back around 1000 feet
from the water. It was of simple design. A large floor
on pillars above the sand and a roof over the open
platform, His eyes were wide open and he was
looking out through the jungle. He could hear the
parrots and morning insects chattering in the rain
forest canopy above and below. His house was
something special for someone living on one of the
most remote island groups on the planet. Tanimbar
Islands, also called Timur Laut, are a group of about
65 islands in the Maluku province of Indonesia. The
principal island had arguably the best beaches on
earth. It was ringed by beautiful palm trees and had a
very dense rain forest in the interior. Beneizen had
built his small home right into the edge of dense
jungle. He had one small area where he could gaze
out onto a beautiful emerald lagoon. His house was
something of a curious design. He had laid down ten
wooden pilings around thirty-five feet in length, and
then built a platform on top of them which rose eight
feet above the ground. The floor was made from local
hardwoods polished to a perfect sheen. The pilings
continued up through the floor and supported the
roof, a local design made from thatched palm leaves.
There were no rooms; it was a clear open space, with
a bed with mosquito netting, a few chairs, and a
primitive cooking area. Beneizen meditated with the
rising of the sun each morning. He felt that there was
a special energy that could only be perceived at the
moment of the sun’s first arising. A tropical breeze
swept across him as he allowed a small smile to curl
at the sides of his mouth. A monkey jumped from a
tree and came and sat in his lap. He quietly stroked
the monkey’s head, but continued to stay centered in
the middle of his body.
The local natives were good natured and appreciated
Beneizen living among them. One of the natives led a
small boy with a large bandage on his leg quietly up
the circular stairs slowly approaching Beneizen from
behind, being very careful not to disturb his
meditation. Both the grandfather and the small boy
sat next to him waiting motionless until he was
finished. He liked people joining him in his morning
collection exercise. He loved the simplicity of these
essential people who lived on the island. They lived
simple, happy lives; it was the way he originally
envisioned life here eons ago. Now here he was on
the small planet third from the sun, and he had to fix
it. The imbalances it suffered could influence the
solar system and in turn the entire universe and even
the galaxy and it was his responsibility to return it to
a proper order. He took in a deep breath and slowly
exhaled and turned to look at the old man and small
boy.
“I hope we did not disturb you,” said the old man.
“Not at all, please, let me look at the young man's
leg.” said Beneizen in a low quiet voice. Beneizen
gently and with great care removes the bandages from
the child’s leg exposing a massive, oozing abscess.
The monkey screams and runs up into a nearby tree.
“My leg is so bad it scares even the monkeys,” the
boy says.
“Let's see what we can do for your leg,” he replies.
Beneizen examines the wound; gets up and goes over
to a nearby table saying to the old man, “Place the
boy on the table and I will dress the wound, he really
needs oral antibiotics, but I don’t have any right
now.” Beneizen washes and cleans the wound, then
dresses it with antibiotic cream and re-bandages it,
saying, “I want you to take the child each day to the
emerald pool, take off his bandages and let his leg
stay in the water for at least an hour before you come
and see me. The fish there will eat the poison away
from the wound. ” He looks at the young man lying
on the table; he feels his head and looks concerned.
“Is he going to get better?” the old man asks.
“Yes, but I still need to get him oral antibiotics. I
have friends coming; they will bring what he needs.”
Beneizen again turns to the young man and strokes
his forehead gently. This has an extreme relaxing
effect on the boy. Beneizen says softly, “When you
soak in the waters of the emerald pool, you must
allow the fish to touch you, even to bite you. They
will not hurt you, they will help by eating the poison
that is harming you, and do you understand?”
“Yes, but keep stroking my head, I feel more well
when you do it,” the child says.
Beneizen turns to the old man and says, “You must
understand that any wound here in the jungle is
dangerous even a wound the size of a pin head. See
that any and all wounds are brought to me, so I can
treat them before they become a big problem like
your grandson’s, understand?
“Yes,” says the old man.
“Good!” Beneizen says.
After they leave, the rain starts to fall gently.
Beneizen swipes his hand in front of him and walls
form around the house. They appear one by one.
They even have windows with glass panes. His
companion, the chief’s daughter is not surprised by
this. She goes into the cooking area and walls form
around her, complete with a door and pictures on the
walls. Kalactin houses have walls that are whatever
you want them to be. You can walk through them or
they can be solid. Beneizen goes to a far wall, raises
his hand and the entire wall becomes a 3-dimensional
monitor. Beneizen can control actions anywhere in
the universe simply calling up visualization and
reaching in and changing what he wishes to change.
He could look in on anything or anyone anywhere.
This was more than a monitor; it was a portal into a
time-space continuum. Then he reached in, Sam
appeared before him and he said to him, "You appear
hard to kill."
"You know about these recent events and Charles?"
Sam asks.
"Yes give him what he wants. Make him a Klacknel.
In time he will understand how he has condemned
himself," Beneizen adds and continues, "I have
thrown myself on the mercy of my own people. They
understand and tell me I will get a new mate. When a
Kalactin dies the surviving mate is paired with a mate
from another Kalacktin who has also lost a mate. I
miss my home planet. This house and living here on
this island in Indonesia has brought me some
temporary peace. I want my children to know where
they came from and here is the perfect place for their
final transformation."
Sam replies remorsefully, "I'm sorry I failed you. I
failed my first wife and our son, Juan. I have always
had remorse for not having raised Juan. It's hard to
face such transgressions."
"I love you Sam and always remember, a saint is just
a sinner who kept trying," Beneizen says and
continues...

Charles was again in front of his beloved computers
in his vault. He was really happiest when he was
here, away from people; he could somehow shut out
any problems. His wife had pushed him into a
political career. If he had been left to his own devices,
Charles would never have left his vault, and that was
exactly what was slowly happening. He didn’t have to
go anywhere. He opened a package of chocolate chip
cookies and started placing one after another into his
mouth. He was feeding the hole. Eating relaxed the
extreme pain he felt in his chest. He knew the day
was coming soon when he would have his new body.
He longed to be a robot. Being a machine meant
release from the truth of what he was and the remorse
from things he had done. He would finally be free of
the pangs of conscience. He peered at the screen and
said to it, “Chase you think you’ve disappeared with
your spare parts bitch, but I will find you. I will find
the blocking frequency that you are using, and
overcome it… you can be sure of that.”
A special communications signal began flashing in
red on his computer screen. It was a link connected
directly to the President. The red signal had never
appeared before and Charles just looked up and stared
at it. He really didn’t want to answer it, but slowly his
hand reached over and touched the screen. “Yes,” he
said.
The President appeared on the screen seemingly very
agitated and said, “Charles, I was just informed that
the FBI has a complete Guard implant, both the spinal
implant and chip assembly. They took it off the Guard
that was driving the limo.”
“Calm down, the one I used to kill Kathryn and
Robert?” Charles asked proudly.
The President replies,“Yes, Kathryn and Robert were
somehow able to jump out of the car before it went
over the cliff. They're messed up but alive. It was all
over the news, boy are you out of the loop! Getting
back to the problem at hand, they want me to do
something about it, something on my own, they want
a full investigation.”
“So, do something, get it away from them; tell them
you want it given to the CIA,” Charles says.
“They’ve already left with it,” the President says.
“Who left with it and what did they say they’re going
to do with it?” Charles asks.
“The FBI and I didn’t ask. Kathryn called Trip from
the wreck!” the President replied.
“You didn’t ask, are you insane? You’re the
President,” Charles says and continues; “Get it back!”
“I’ll be right over,” Charles says and hangs up
angrily.
To himself, Charles says, “I’m not an expert Guard
programmer, Beneizen was the best at that, he was a
wonderful person.” He slams his hand into the wall
and really hurts himself. "He
was
a wonderful person.
I really screwed up, I’ve got real problems. They're
both alive, how did they know? Beneizen it had to be
you. Come and talk to me you coward!” Charles
begins to pace around his vault wailing, “Doris where
are you?” as he begins to remember...
Charles is a young man again. He's slim and
handsome. He is sitting with Beneizen and Doris on
top of Half Dome in Yosemite National Park. Their
legs dangle off the rocks.
Doris clings to Charles's arm and observes, "It's the
most beautiful place I've ever seen in my life. It's pure
magic,"
"No the real magic is you," Charles says to Doris.
"No the real magic is watching the both of you,”
Beneizen says.