Beast Machine Read online

  “And you, Owlbert, you are the most genius person in the 20th century and possibly in the history of our planet! I’d say the universe, but we humans haven’t made contact with extraterrestrial beings just yet!”

  Owlbert blushed and Hitbear shook his head.

  “I could have made Newton into a crane or Socrates into a mink, but would they have the same compassion and understanding of the modern world as you do? I just do not believe they would be as accepting as you Owlbert. You both were specially selected with traits that I adored and needed.”

  “So, what you’re saying is that I am back for my military acumen and confidence,” said Hitbear. “And this canary,” as he points at Owlbert, “for his intelligence and curiosity of science?”

  “Correct,” said Gora. She nodded at both beasts. Her strange tight grin appeared again.

  “Yet you go on to say you have a ‘micro-experiment’ to see if intelligent beings are good or evil? That doesn’t make sense to me because you want us to commit evil acts. Evil acts of revenge. You’re leading us straight down the road to evil! Is my soul forever destined for evil ways?”

  Gora pondered for a short moment and then stated, “Though I want to figure out the inherent nature – good or evil – of beings, I ultimately believe every single intelligent being is good-natured once they enter this reality; they just happen to do evil or bad things because of extenuating circumstances. Be it to survive in a cruel world or to get to a higher level in the social caste.” Gora’s eye color wavered slightly but arrived back to their original color of brown.

  “Once you’re put into difficult positions you’re liable to do evil things for the greater good – your original life may be one of the exception to this, Hitbear – and you can’t help yourself from committing these acts.” Her eyes flickered once again before returning to their healthy brown color.

  “Good people do evil things some times; that doesn’t make it okay, but it doesn’t make them evil either. If we can prevent ourselves from committing notorious acts after completing these revenge missions, then it may give me insight into the actions of intelligent beings. If I can commit these acts of revenge – which are lightly tinged with evil – yet still stay a genuine, good-natured human, then I believe I have succeeded in my micro-experiment. Though, I do believe good and evil are relative terms…” She pondered off into the distance of the laboratory.

  Hitbear wasn’t quite satisfied with that explanation but felt it unnecessary to keep pressing the issue. “That response will suffice for now,” he thought.

  “Thank you for the explanation, Gora. But how are we supposed to fit together?” said Hitbear. “We’re from the same time, but we aren’t close to the same person, erm, living being, uh, creature.”

  “You see, Owlbert here will help me decide and create a few more beasts that will be used in your strategies. Or you two can come up with a crazy killing device that we can all make together!” Gora’s loud announcement caused the beasts to gently jump from fright.

  “Oh, so when will these troops be ready to roll out?” smiled Hitbear, ignoring the killing device comment.

  “An undetermined time,” sighed Gora. “I have to discuss with Owlbert the correct course of action that we should take in creating these soldiers because I do not want them falling into the wrong hands and I do not want any of this traced back to me, for I fear the wrath of powerful people that reside on this planet. I just want to dispatch those that have wronged me.”

  “Ja, ja. Vee vill begin tomorrow morning, Gora,” cheeped Owlbert as he flew onto Hitbear’s shoulder. Owlbert was an unusually large owl, but Hitbear remained unaffected by the owl resting on his shoulder. “I quite like ein spot here.”

  “Off me bird!” growled Hitbear at Owlbert, as Hitbear chased Owlbert around the lab.

  Gora, still queasy from explaining to Hitbear and Owlbert her intentions, traced the two beastmen with her eyes as Hitbear playfully chased Owlbert around and around. Her eyes flickered for the third time and then went dim.

  Hitbear finally got a hold of Owlbert and gave him a tiny – but firm – bear-pinch and released him. The two seemed strangely perfect for each other thought Gora. She knew that they were direct opposites of one another ideologically, and was beyond relieved when both agreed to the tasks given to them.

  Yet an uncertainty flowed throughout Gora’s mind. Would others try to attack her if she were seen animating the dead? Would humans be dismayed at her choice for resurrecting Hitler, of all people? When will she let the beasts in on her true motives? A million more thoughts like this flooded Gora’s mind as she collapsed on the ground and began to yelp in agony; her anxiety and inner fears were gripping at her stronger than ever.

  “Gora! Gora!” screamed Hitbear as he and Owlbert rushed over quickly. Hitbear knelt down beside her stricken body and caressed her hair gently as she contorted this way and that way. Owlbert gently fanned her entire body with his wings and began to whistle a careful song through his beak. The pair of beastmen looked into each other’s eyes and through strange animalistic telepathy they nodded in agreement that Gora was the most important thing in their lives. Anything that had to be done to protect her would be done; no questions asked.

  Gora’s body started to shake less and her breathing became normal once more. She drifted off into a slumber and her two creations lay down by her, keeping her warm and safe through the night.

  Chapter 6

  The Rosenbergs, Continued

  “Are you okay, dad?” the young man asked his weeping father. He stood up and stepped to his father’s side. The boy began to comfort his father with a hug but was kindly rebuffed.

  “Yes,” coughed the father, “just another damned coughing fit.” His guttural coughing fit continued for minutes, but it felt like an eternity to his son - he wanted to hear more about his grandparents and the Rosenbergs.

  “Hand me some water, Gaston,” asked the father between coughs. Gaston obliged and quickly scooped a cup into a bucket of water. Though the father taught the boy much about technology and innovation, he wanted to keep their lives as plain and off-the-grid as possible. It was exceptionally easy to be found when plugged in even in the 1970s.

  “Thank you, son,” said the father. “Now back to my story. Please take these words in with great care.”

  “Of course, dad, of course.” The boy resumed his cross-legged position and leaned in with full attention to his broken, yet resilient, father.

  “As I said, my family’s lives were about to tremendously change forever.”

  New York City, 1945

  “What is it Ethel?” asked Caroline as she hurriedly prepared to boil water for tea. Ethel liked to add milk to her tea, which was strange to Caroline, so Caroline pulled out the fresh glass of milk from the icebox.

  “It’s our husbands, Caroline,” said Ethel quietly. “I’ve received some damning news about them.”

  Caroline dropped the teapot. “No… they’re dead!” shrieked Caroline as she fell into a chair. “That can’t be!” She fell forward onto her knees and covered her face with her hands; she was in a state of disbelief and shock.

  “They’re not dead!” shrieked Ethel back at Caroline. Ethel grabbed a wet dishrag from the sink and slowly dabbed Caroline’s forehead as Caroline now lay back in her chair. “It’s much worse than that.”

  “Much worse than death?” asked Caroline woozily. “What’s worse than death?” Caroline grabbed the dishrag gently from Ethel and kept it at her forehead. Her eyes slowly lost their beautiful brown coloring and looked duller than a moon rock.

  “Remember how Julius and I were a part of that youth political movement? Dealing with communism and other similar political ideals?”

  “Barely. Wendell was the one that was involved, I just tagged along because he was happy being involved. But what does that have to do with my husband?” Tears shot down Caroline’s colorless eyes. “This better not be another frivolous story of Ethel’s,” thought Caroline. Ethel
has, accidentally, made Caroline’s life hell because Ethel has a knack for making mountains out of mole-hills the past few years: the time with the homeless man ruining her stoop’s potted plants, the time her son Michael had been in a fight, the time she spotted a rat in her commode and the time Ethel had tragically been beaten out of starring as Miranda in The Tempest at a local actors guild performance. Everything was horrible to Ethel.

  “Well, the U.S. military has found – more like assumed – that Julius is a spy for the Soviets!” Ethel dumped the milk into her tea. Caroline wrinkled her nose and wiped away fresh tears.

  “My word! What is he doing for the Soviets?”

  “He’s not!” shouted Ethel. “He’s not doing anything for those red devils! It’s just… He and I happened to be important members of a Communist group – that youth political movement group. We have never – ever! – wanted to undermine or destroy this great country of ours. And why would we? It’s given us incredible opportunities that only God could give us!”

  Caroline sniffled quietly. “What is going to happen to Julius and what about Wendell? What does he have to do with this spying business?”

  Ethel closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Tears started to form around her eyelids. “Julius likely will be given the death penalty and…” The tears were let loose. “Wendell is likely to be given the same fate. He and Julius often sent letters to one another during the war and the topic often was about Communism – you know how our men loved to debate many topics, especially their ideals!

  “The ‘Great Joys of Communism’ is how Julius described the context of the letters he sent to Wendell. Julius had converted Wendell into a full-fledged Communist, which is now apparently the same as calling someone a nigger!

  “Ethel! Your mouth!” screamed Caroline with heat to her voice. Caroline, black herself, had an unimaginable disdain for the word nigger and found it an exceptionally disparaging word. Slight rage filled Caroline’s sad eyes but quickly fled once she realized the topic of the conversation.

  “Sorry, dear, sorry! It was a poor, poor comparison.” Ethel sipped her tea nervously. Ethel was not known for having a silver tongue, more so she was cursed with a lack of a filter. “They have both been detained in their respective branches. They’re not with any prisoners of the war, though, Julius wrote.”

  Caroline swallowed her tea loudly. This didn’t seem real to her. Wendell had never discussed betraying his country, simply because it was something he would not do. This had to be a nightmare. A nightmare that she will soon wake up from. “This has to be a nightmare,” she thought! She even laughed slightly then said, “I thought you said they weren’t dead? That sounds like they’re dead to me. They’re going to get the death penalty. They’ll be strung up and made to be laughed at out in the streets and made examples of!”

  Caroline wouldn’t be able to handle that, she will not see her husband strung up like an animal and have blurred faces laugh at his demise. She’d kill herself if it happens. She’d slice her own throat.

  “I have yet to get to that part, dear.” Ethel turned slightly and spotted a young Jozy squatting under an end table in the kitchen hallway. “With the government and military taking aim at the Soviets after the Axis countries fall, they are looking to rid everyone associated with communism. Everyone. It’s the new enemy of the military. It’s the next step to keep the world in a perpetual state of war.”

  “So are you in danger?”

  “I am. You are. My children are. Your children are. They will come for us all. When? I’m not sure. But they’ll come.”

  Caroline’s dull eyes widened. “Why would they come for the rest of my family? We haven’t done anything involving any political movements! We are a patriotic family, through and through! We’d do anything to help our fellow man, our fellow American!” Adrenaline began to pump into Caroline.

  “I’m afraid… I’m afraid it has to do with our families’ relationship.” Ethel looked down at her lap. An entire family damned just through friendship.

  Caroline stood up and tossed the dishrag into the sink. She positioned herself over the sink and began to vomit violently. Stinging bile mostly spewed out of the now broken woman. The quick adrenaline rush had faded down the drain.

  “I’ll get your hair, dear,” said Ethel as she ran to Caroline’s side. Caroline’s taut, curly hair was once a powerful black color, but now was suddenly sprouting hairs of desperate grays. Caroline’s vomit turned bloody before she finally got it under control.

  Caroline wiped her mouth and slowly said, “I need to get my boys out of here. You’ve put them in danger and we need to get them to safety.”

  Ethel normally would have been insulted by a claim like that but knew she and her husband had caused this danger. “Yes, dear, I have a friend that can take them to Ohio. Cleveland would be where they would stay.”

  “And they wouldn’t be separated or forced into an orphanage?”

  “Never. I promise you this: they will stay together. They will be safe. My children will be accompanying them to the same home.”

  Caroline sighed and sat back in her chair. Her dull eyes and gray hairs were more apparent than ever. Her life had come crashing down in mere minutes and her soul was waning. Caroline’s eyes began to slowly sink back into her head and her cheeks began to droop at a frightening pace. Even she could not believe how quickly she had given up hope, but was there even hope to begin with once Wendell was shipped off?

  “When will we be contacted by the authorities? By the government? By anyone?”

  “I am not sure, dear, I only know of Julius because of a letter he sent that the military somehow let through.”

  “Is there any other information I should know about, Ethel? Anything that may haunt my boys after…,” Caroline paused. “After mine and Wendell’s deaths?”

  Ethel looked at her lap once more as she took a seat. “Yes. Maybe. I think so.” Ethel kept staring at her lap. “It happened four years ago. Before you and I became friends, we were only acquaintances because of our husbands.”

  “Please, tell me,” said Caroline as she closed her eyes and shook her head slowly. “What will haunt my boys?”

  “Before Julius had been sent off for the war he was contacted by a strange man, a man we’ve never seen before. The man showed up at our house wearing peculiar clothing. He called the trousers he was wearing ‘jeans’ and he had a tattoo on his neck of a syringe. The syringe was ‘filled’ halfway with a blue ink. I was impressed with his eyes; one was blue, while the other was hazel. One was beautiful and deep, while the other gleamed with evil. I had never seen a man with such beauty and such evil in his eyes.” Ethel looked at her feet and rubbed the tears from her eyes.

  “The man told us he was a messenger of a very important group of people.”

  “So, Congress?” Caroline asked. “What other group, outside of the military, could be made up of very important people? Are you sure he wasn’t touched in the head?”

  “No, a group that extends beyond Americans. A group that, as he put it, ‘controls how quickly humans are allowed to progress’ around the world and that they are controlling humanity ‘so to keep the world’s population in check.’ Julius nearly shoved the man out of the door for such foolish speak, but the man brandished a strange gun-like weapon that he called a taser. Or it may have been laser? Now let me think about it for one moment. It had a reddish light attached to it that appeared wherever the man pointed the apparatus and electricity spat from the front of it as he pointed it.”

  “Ethel! Just get to the damn point,” sighed Caroline, slowly pulling her gray hairs out of her head out of frustration and sadness. Wendell had always loved her hair. She imagined him running his soft fingers through her hair, like he always had done after they settled down for bed. She had longed for the touch of her husband. It had been four long years, four long years of loneliness.

  “Oh, right, right. After the man brandished the weapon, he told us to ‘sit the fuck down and
listen’ or else we would be left as ‘ashes.’ Terribly frightened we sat down and listened to the man. I kept blacking out throughout the ordeal but I remember that the man wanted Julius to spy for the Soviets during the war. He knew that Julius would be working closely with military officials that had the inside track on special projects – projects pertaining to weapons of mass annihilation and mass control. The man mentioned a new-cue-leer weapon and space equipment. I’m not sure what the new-cue-leer thing would be, but how ridiculous does space equipment sound? Humans will never touch the moon in our lifetime!”

  “Exceptionally ridiculous,” said Caroline. Her hairs were graying the more Ethel spoke. She wanted to run out of the kitchen and start packing her boys’ things, but she was afraid it may frighten them.

  “Julius was dumbfounded because he had not been given his proper military assignment, yet this peculiar, and rude mind you, man already knew? This man also knew about these future weapons? Neither Julius nor I could quite fully understand what was being explained to us at the time. I thought we were both drugged and in a comatose state! And this population nonsense? I had no idea what he was on about, but he kept talking and talking.

  “The man said, if I remember correctly, ‘In eighteen months you will be contacted – in person – by a man named Po. He will be your liaison to the Soviets,’ the man continued. ‘Do as Po tells you and you will live. Report any of this to your superiors and you, and your family, will die, painfully.’ I fainted at this point.”

  Ethel was shaking, sweating and wobbling side to side at this point. She dabbed her forehead with the dishrag Caroline had previously used. There were remnants of Caroline’s vomit on the dishrag.

  “I awoke right as the man was leaving. He was telling Julius, ‘This is your only chance and only warning, boy. If you refuse to relay information to the Soviets on the Allied Powers, The Flagship will come for you, for your wife, for your children, for your friends – everything you love. You will be taken from this world painfully and slowly.’