Bill told me to meet somebody at a local high school football game. Yes, he can be vague. He was my boss after all and this was only my next assignment. Bill not only has the local sheriff over for lemonade and advice on problem solving, he also knows people far higher in the world power structure. He knows the people who make presidents, prime ministers and even dictator thugs walk on eggshells. No, there is no secret order running the world but that does not mean there are no power hungry types competing for influence across politics, business, global security and even poking around in my realm. It is one thing to rescue a single kid from traffickers, bust up a redneck dogfighting ring or send a pedophile priest to the thirteenth circle of hell (Oh, there are far more than thirteen, trust me). But this assignment was on a whole higher level. You guys with your ever-advancing weapons of mass destruction and fragile egos are taking things to new and dangerous heights of risk. Big G says you are totally free to fuck it all up. Fortunately for you, he gives beings like Bill and myself freedom to try and prevent that from happening. This assignment was one of those high level deals. So why go to a high school football game in the middle of nowhere? It is crowd with a focus on something other than the 6’8 leather bound freak wondering around. Football is cool and all but it is not my deal. Fortunately, I did not even make it to halftime. I was approached by a farmer Brown looking dude if there ever was one; worn bib overalls, plaid shirt, old boots and a straw hat to top it off.
“Mr. Fallen?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Tex. Please follow me. It’s not too far.”
“After you, sir.”
I followed him out through the gate to an old beater Ford pick up.
“I’ll wait for you on the road. Take a right out of here. I’ll be there.”
He eased off and turned out. I got on my bike and followed. He led me slowly through town and into the dark countryside. Farmer guy had a different perspective on the meaning of “…not too far” than I did. Almost an hour later we turned off onto one of the numberless dirt tracks going off into cornfields. He stopped short of what looked like a Doppler Radar station surrounded by a high fence with a gate. He motioned me to pull up beside him.
“This is as far as I go. You will find the gate unlocked. Lock it behind you. Good luck Mr. Fallon.”
With that, he turned around and drove off into the night. I drove up, opened the gate, pulled my bike in and cut it off and closed the gate. The night was dead quiet. I was not alone. I felt a powerful presence.
“Bill said you would be on time,” said a small woman stepping out from the shadows of the tower. “Pull the bike over here on this slab. Nice machine. We’ll keep it safe for you.”
I pushed the bike to where she was pointing. I could not see her in the darkness but her voice and clothes said old. Her cowboy hat hid her face from my perspective. In one hand she held a staff and what looked like a garage door opener in the other. Like me, she operated in many worlds.
“Get ready for darkness as only your kind knows. It is about a ten-minute ride. No talking.”
She hit the button and slowly and silently we began to sink into the earth. It was like being lowered into a grave. Another slab replaced the hole above us. She was right about the darkness. After ten-minutes stretched into what felt like 10,000 years, light gathered at our feet. We came to an iron gate. My host produced a key and opened it up. We were in a colorless concrete box deep underground. At the opposite end from the elevator was a wall with large nuclear HAZMAT sign painted on it. She stepped off the elevator and beckoned be to follow. I could now see her clearly. She was dressed in a timeless Native American outfit, except for the black cowboy hat. Her elderly face radiated power with kindness and compassion.
“I am Zonta. Welcome to my underworld Sam,” she said placing her hand on a scanner.
The wall with the HAZMAT sign slid to the left revealing a well lit hallway going as far as I could see. I followed Zonta inside. The place was as silent as a tomb. Most people would be unnerved in my situation but I had been to places like this before, places between worlds if you will. Red carpet dampened our footfalls and gray walls interrupted by heavy doors made of various materials marked our progress. At last Zonta stopped at a large wooden door that looked like it belonged on a castle from the dark ages and not here in a secret bunker under Nebraska. The door opened to a dark wind swept plain. I followed her through and she led me to a tipi and a purple campfire. I turned to look back at the door and it dissolved in a puff of black smoke. Interesting.
“Look around Sam. Tell me what you see.”
“Dusk. Plains. Your home? No secret underground bunker. We did not climb back to the surface did we?”
“Yes, this is my home. You are right. We did not climb here. Tell me, what else do you see?”
I looked around and then looked up. The stars were there but they were wrong. Then I realized why. I let out a hearty laugh, “You are a time traveler. There are very few beings I know of with this power. And you can bring a guest it seems.”
“The whites will not be here for many centuries. It is very peaceful. This is also a safe place to talk about your next assignment. Please come in,” Zonta said gesturing toward the open tipi.
There were no chairs or tables only a few firs covering the floor. I paused to remove my shoes. There was a soft, purple light I could not see the source of, Zonta’s magic at work. I went and sat down. She followed and sat across from me.
“Sam, there are powerful people back there. People who are above the laws and have no self-control. In times past, they posed no threat to God’s creation. This is no longer the case.”
“Nukes, chemicals, biological agents. Anything else I’m missing?”
“Not yet. But that’s enough.” She continued, “I know, I know it is just one planet of many endowed with life. As you know, he likes his human creations. He’s willing to let them go if that’s what they decide to do. But it would be a pity. Humankind has so much potential.”
“I agree. So what is the point of all of this? What does it have to do with me? What’s the assignment?”
“Lars Haak,” she answered.
“And he would be?”
“The fourth largest hedge fund manager in the world. He oversees the spending of trillions of dollars, euros, yen, rubles and so on. He also has a large arms company willing to sell anything to any one. There is more but that is for someone else to tell you. They will be here in the morning to pick you up and put you in the right direction. Get some sleep, Sam. You are going to need it.”
I slept wrapped up in a bearskin rug in Zonta’s tipi in 1088AD (she later told me). Fresh air, no political ads and magic purple lighting- best sleep in all my 2,500 or so years! I awoke to a warm morning on the plains. Zonta was up already making a nice natural breakfast of buffalo meat and fried eggs. She invited me to join her. I did miss my morning coffee but the food was still good. Being a good student, I decided to stay quiet. She would tell me what I needed to know when I needed to know it. A strange sound came out of the east, the unmistakable sound of a Chinook helicopter.
“That must be my ride. Unless you are expecting someone else?”
“That’s Father Enriki Torres. He’s a Jesuit. I’m sure you will get along well.”
“Mr. Haak uniting heaven and hell?”
“Something like that. Good luck Sam Fallen.”
“This is going to be fun. So long Zonta.”
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