ODIN'S WAR

PLOT TWO

The room was small but luxuriously and exotically furnished. Deep purple and black seemed to hang heavy on the drapes, the chairs, and lamps. Spurion preferred a small enclosed place to relax and think in, and the bizarre color scheme generally put his guests in an uneasy mood, as though they were trapped in the lair of some kind of odd beast. This pleased Spurion.

His present guest was a somewhat elderly but handsome woman, whom he had kept close to him since the revolt twenty years ago. Marie Hollow had proved to be a cautious and patient woman, working her way into a position nearly equal to that of her dead and martyred husband, though she possessed subtle powers which were more difficult to assess. Her elegant manner was deeply enhanced by a pair of intelligent but tender eyes that disarmed all but the most heartless. Nor did she compromise herself for the likes of Spurion, who was presently attempting to persuade her to accept a new post.

“Come now, my illustrious lady,” Spurion began, “surely you would not turn down a chance to become the first female Archangel. It would suit you so well.”

“I have no desire to be a crooked pawn for you,” she responded. “But you know how the people love and respect you, like the sickly sheep they are. You would enjoy their adoration.” Spurion leaned back into his purple chair.

“But they respect me now, as First minister of Religion. Most of them think very little of your archangels, because you control them like wooden headed puppets. You would have no chance with me.” She smiled darkly.

“On the contrary,” said Spurion, “You are still my subject, and I have, shall we say, ‘divine right’ over you.”

“Earthly might, perhaps. Your cruelty is never confused with holiness.”

“Nonetheless, it is most effective.” Spurion picked up a pot which contained an exotically spiced tea, containing a slight trace of opium. “Would you care for some tea?” he asked, smiling.

“No thank you,” came the firm reply, “It suits you far better than it does me.”

Spurion needed a ‘sedative’ of sorts, to calm his nerves, mangled by attempts on his life, and his increasingly degenerate life style. Taking a sip of the tea, Spurion stared coldly at Marie. “Then you are absolutely refusing?”

“Perhaps.” she replied. “How do you know a position on the board will be open?”

“I was informed just a few hours ago that objective 17 was taken, and the necessary 5,000 men captured. I have three days to name a new archangel, after which we will have a vote on my latest proposal.” “Which is?” asked Marie.

“That the ladies of Candufair are given to me to serve in my court.” Marie looked at him with disgust, and shook her head. “I don’t know why. You are passionless, and have no use for a woman, let alone the most beautiful and exotic harem in the world.”

“Yes that is true,” said Spurion, “I am only occasionally amused by such women, and a vote on the angelic board on the surface seems to have better use. But Baspierre has been intolerably haughty. lately, and he loves his harem. The frustration he suffers will be most enjoyable, and his humiliation more than satisfying.”

Marie looked into the eyes of the fiendish man. Or the manish fiend, she thought to herself. Still, she did not drop her eyes, or shift her position at her chair. “I will need two days to decide” she told him plainly. “I have much to think about and my schedule has disallowed me any time to myself lately.”

“It is all to your advantage to accept,” said Spurion, “since it will 1 give you additional prestige and power.”

“But I will still be subject to you, even more so than now.” she replied.

“You know I would never harm you” smiled Spurion.

“You wouldn’t if I didn’t cross you. But how can I trust a man who is ultimately selfish, as you yourself have said you are.”

Spurion got up from his chair and began to pace about the room, as he always did when he was about to philosophize. “There are many theoretical points of reference in the human mind, and we must choose one by which we orient our being.

Of these ‘centers’ or reference points, there are basically two kinds: internal and external. The internal consist of mind, soul, body, spirit, and so on. The external consist of Nature, God, or symbols of a god or gods. The existence of the internal is proved by the existence of the self. The existence of the external can only be understood in relation to the self. I know that I am, and it is I who projects the images outside of myself. There is a God, but He exists because I allow Him to. I do not allow God to be destroyed, because His power is useful to me. He does a lot of things for me, as I want Him to. Likewise, the emanations of myself, the emotions, exist because I will it to be so. I have love because I desire it. Love is the principle which is closest to me so that sometimes it is difficult to distinguish the difference. In a sense, I am Love.”

“And you are God,” replied Marie softly after a short silence. “What about hate?” she then asked.

“Hate is within me as well,” said Spurion coldly, “It is as pure and true as love. That which is against myself, I hate, and seek to destroy.”

“You don’t make sense,” said Marie. “You say there is a God, but you control Him. You say that you have love, but love is yourself. Hate, I believe, really is inside you.” Spurion glared at her. “But, you cannot have love by yourself,” she continued, “Nor can you have God and be alone, because He is outside you, and within you. God brings love, and it is with love that you find Him.” Spurion looked at her and shook his head. “You are suffering from an illusion, like many bright people,” he said. “I wish you could be saved from it. It would better your condition.” “Spurion, you cannot know joy without the touch or smile of a loved one. The exchange of a mutual love will always bring greater things than yourself alone.

“I love,” said Spurion, “and I am tender.”

“You are deceitful and false, because you share nothing. You take like a rapist, as you want nothing but satisfaction in return.

“So? what do you claim there is?” snapped Spurion changing his mood from pensive to aggressive.

“You probably will never know,” she said, “and haven’t known either since the death of my husband. . . .” she turned her head to: stare at the wall.

“Your husband was weak,” said Spurion. “He thought that because people were naive and fell for his good looks and flowery speech that he was right. But he wasn’t.”

“If he were not right,” said Marie, “I would not be here, at least not in anywhere near the same capacity.”

“Ridiculous,” coughed Spurion.

Marie glared at him. “You haven’t the power to break my spirit.” she said in a measured tone. He looked her in the eye, but did not reply. She continued, “There is nothing you can do to hurt me, because my faith, my love, and my sustenance are all in God, but you have nothing but an ageing body, a slowing mind, and a hate which drives you, but without control.”

Spurion was stunned. He stared blankly for a moment, and then exploded. He kicked the chair which he had been leaning on to the floor and bellowed, “Get out! Get out you wench! You will bow to me, and you will suffer!” He kicked the chair again as Marie left the room without a sound. As she walked down the corridor she could faintly hear him shouting, and objects shattering in rapid succession.

Marie returned to her room with an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. She had not dared in the past to fully speak her mind to Spurion, preferring to use a more subtle approach. Yet the thought of becoming a crooked pawn for him on the Board of Angelic Harmony was repulsive. Her position as head of Religion, and successor to her husband, was a far more suitable position to operate from. Now she was to expect a vicious retaliation by Spurion which may leave her in no capacity to engage in any activity whatsoever. Such was his brutal method in dealing with insubordination.

After the two guards closed her door and locked it, the silence was a great unseen. pressure on her skull, her eyes and ears. The realization that years of work and subtle maneuvering for an influence may end in a brutal punishment and no doubt humiliation was a nerve crushing weight. She stood for several minutes in shock, staring at the wall.

She suddenly shook her head and rubbed her reddening eyes with the realization that she did have something that she must do. She turned and moved to her bedside, kneeling slowly and deliberately, clasping her hands together, she bowed her head and pressed her forehead gently against them. She tried hard to clear her mind, to seek and inner calm which she knew lay within her, but was unable to bring forth. She was disturbed when a knock came at the door. Gathering herself to her feet, she responded. “Come in.” she said flatly.

The locks came off, the door opened, and in came a pretty young maid, dressed in a green body tight suit. Turning back, she smiled at the guards who had been staring at her from behind as she walked. They shut the doors, but no lock was fastened.

“Hello,” said the girl, “I have come to discuss an alternative for you.” “You will have no more success than Spurion at persuading me to do anything I don’t believe in.”

“You misunderstand me,” smiled the girl, “I am not speaking for Spurion or ICCE. Marie was confused.

“But who? What?” I don’t understand.”

“Surely you remember Music, the wise old souls of the long ago?” said the girl.

“Yes, but,” stammered Marie, “He, I mean, they, are dead.”

The girl smiled “No MUSIC is not dead, and they would like to have you as their guest this evening.”

Marie was thinking quickly, trying to assess the situation.

“If you would like to leave with me, we can find our way to their little ‘home’ by this evening.”

“How are we going to get by the guards?” asked Marie. “I am certain Spurion himself will be here before too long.”

“That is the easiest part” the girl said simply. “Look.” She swung open the unlocked door. The guards weren’t in sight.

“Come with me,” she said, walking out the door. Marie followed and around the corner, she discovered the two guards unconscious and drugged on the floor.

“They were foolish” said the girl. “By the way, my name is Lana.”

“I am very pleased to meet you,” said Marie, following Lana down the corridor with a lively step. On their way, they passed several more unconscious guards. They were just about to enter the parking structure for sonic cars, when they heard Spurion’s voice down the corridor.

“That hateful wench is going to know pain for the first time in her life! I think I’ll break her bones with my bare hands! Yes! That well be a pleasure I can’t resist!”

Lana and Marie quickly and quietly slipped through the automatic door into the parking structure, and ran low between the docked sonic cars. Lana went to a small blue bubbled car and they climbed in, as Lana started it up. They slowly backed up, and then zipped out into the late afternoon sun, unhindered and unseen.

“We have to transfer to a more suitable vehicle,” said Lana, after riding for several miles off the road on a dirt track. The sonic car they now entered apparently had been parked off the beaten path in anticipation of their arrival. They quickly switched to the new car and continued their journey. They stopped shortly in the middle of a huge barren field. Lana pressed a button near the steering wheel of the car. A low humming ensued and slowly, to the astonishment of Marie, something began to rise out of the ground in front of them. TA was much larger than the sonic car. It rose like a large square stone about 20 feet above the nukescape, and 20 feet wide. Soon a door slid up electronically, and 2 men in space suits with helmets waved them forward. Lana drove into the opening, as the door closed behind them. The ‘elevator’ was lighted, and Marie watched the men curiously as they sank slowly down into a shaft for a few hundred feet. They stopped, and another door slid up in front of them. The guards opened the side doors of the car, and Lana and Marie stepped out. Looking ahead, Marie could see down a long low corridor. A group of several men were approaching.

In front was an elderly man whom Marie thought she recognized. “Hello, Marie,” said the apparent leader. “I’m glad you could finally come for a visit.”

“Jeremy!” gasped Marie. She ran to him and hugged him.

“Yes” said Jeremy, “I and MUSIC are still alive.” He paused for a moment. “And perhaps stronger than I had hoped, now that you’re here.” he added. Marie noticed something different about the ’cap’n.” He had a softer touch, and his eyes were completely blank. She looked up into his face and searched it carefully.

“Yes,” sighed Jeremy, “I am blind. The years out on the nukescape have had some side effects. Here is my guide. She tells me all I need to know.” He put his arm around a young woman with brown curly hair who stood next to him.

“Now come,” said the aging warrior, whose days of prowess were now left to a sharp mind, common sense, and an indefatigable will. “It is time for us to have a little gathering of wits. Some things have come about recently which are soon going to bring MUSIC into action, to redeem the name and cause of those who died in the early days.” The urgency in Jeremy’s voice was compelling. Marie felt that a decision was to be made, and it was to be one which would include her in some crucial way.

The small group of green suited soldiers, Jeremy, and Marie walked down the corridor. Marie had forgotten what a large man Jeremy was. His gray head loomed in the middle of the group, bowed slightly, but still higher than the rest. He moved his massive body slowly.

Soon they came to an elevator, large enough. to hold them all, and upon entering it, they were quickly transported even further into the earth when the door finally opened, a cavernous room was before them, the size of a large train station. A number of sonic cars were gathered in a ‘squadron’ roughly in the middle of the structure. A number of green soldiers were milling about, some engaged in repair, maintenance, or some task.

Jeremy stepped out and waved his arm. “Here you see what we have been doing the last few years. We have built a small force here, but our real strength lies in the mechanical and technical abilities in clandestine operations. You will hear of our plans later. Now, I think we can allow you to explore some of the facility. Questions will be answered by James who will assist you in the tour.” Jeremy waved his hand, and a tall, swarthy man with long black hair came to Marie’s side. “Meanwhile,” continued Jeremy, “I’ll be preparing for a top security meeting, to which you are invited.

I hope to see you in about an hour. James will bring you.” The tall, indian-like man grinned, showing a lack of at least three teeth.

Marie and James went one way and Jeremy the other. James made Marie a little nervous. He looked hardly the type to accompany a lady, though his toothless smile was congeli.al. They strolled, or Marie strolled and James ambled, around the perimeter of the large underground structure. “The cars appear to be an unusual model” said Marie, “I’ve never seen anything quite like them”.

“They are our own invention”, said James, who could not prevent a little air from slowing through his words. “They have several unique features.”

“Such as?” inquired Marie.

“They run at a higher frequency than the ICCE cars, and therefore generate more speed, though less power.” Marie was surprised at the apparent intellect of such an unsightly man.

“This has the advantage of switching easily to a flight frequency,” continued James, “enabling the car to ‘hop’ several hundred feet, though extended flight is impossible.”

“Amazing,” said Marie, Who designed these little devils?” James grinned broadly, “A pal named Willoughby was my chief assistant.”

“You seem to have remarkable talent,” said Marie. “Are you a member of the board here?” I am mostly concerned with frequency systems sonic cars, and satellites.

“Satellites?” asked Marie.

“Yes, but you will learn more about our satellite work later,” said James.

They walked further, until they had made a complete circuit of the complex. Marie asked the odd but intelligent James more questions concerning the numbers of MUSIC, the strength of their devices, technology, and so on. It appeared that while there was a fair mix of committed individuals with talent, there certainly wasn’t enough manpower to lead a full scale revolution. At least, not without committing suicide, and at this point, Marie shuddered, remembering the terrible outcome of the first revolution, and the unwanted deaths it had caused.

Shortly, James and Marie had tea and rolls, in a makeshift canteen, before they proceeded to the meeting. They walked through a tiny maze of corridors before they arrived to the council room, where Jeremy and Eric waited. There was a table in the center of the room, suitable for about eight board members, three to a side and one at each end. Pencils, paper, and water on the table indicated a lengthy planning session was in order. A video screen was behind Jeremy, at the head, and a video machine was fastened to the middle of the table. A computer terminal was located at the far end of the table.

“You may sit here, on my right, Marie,” said Jeremy, apparently sensing it was her and James who had just entered the room. James took the chair by the terminal, at the end of the table, as Marie took her place by Jeremy.

A moment later, an elderly man came in, hunched over and aided by a cane.

He seemed to carry too much weight on his broad but old and rounded shoulders. He walked slowly up to Marie, and smiled broadly.

“Willoughby!” she exclaimed. She took him into her arms and hugged. him seemingly harder than his years and condition could bear. He smiled even broader.

“Marie, you lovely lady,” he began, “I thought I wouldn’t have the pleasure of such a sight before I died!”

“Well, the pleasure is mine! I am happy to see you well.” Marie had difficult4 controlling the emotion in her voice, and felt awkward.

“Yes”, said Jeremy, “We can all thank the Lord for His kindness. But we most begin now. The hours are getting shorter. ”

At that moment, another person entered the room. “Ah!” exclaimed Jeremy, the last is here. Marie, allow me to introduce Kerenyi, our personal “supervisor.”

“Pleased to meet you,” said Marie.

“And I to meet you,” responded Kerenyi politely, with a distinct Slavic accent. “I have heard many great things about you.”

“Thank you,” responded Marie, flattered.

The six stood about the table. Jeremy spoke, “A moment of silence, please. Our Lord God, who watches our every deed, guide us in our lives to seek and find the truth, and to know the true end of man on this Earth.” He paused a moment. “And we pray for the souls of the faithful departed, for those-who died in Your name, Amen.” They were all seated, and the meeting began.

“First of all,” began Jeremy, “I should give you the news from the North. Williams has been successful in capturing Objective 17, and our man has contacted him. He has agreed to hold his position until we tell him to move.”

Marie was stunned by this revelation. She had no idea that they had managed to sway one of the chief military leaders of ICCE.

“How sure are we that Williams will join us?” asked Willoughby.

“We can be quite sure,” said. Jeremy. “His former girlfriend has just joined Spurion’s court. Such a low handed maneuver will certainly shatter all his illusions of happiness with the ICCE state, if our information on his character is accurate.”

Again Marie was stunned. How could she have been so ignorant of such a delicate situation?

“And what out the men with him?” Willoughby pressed.

“The prison that Williams has captured has been severely neglected, poorly provisioned, .1.Aa undergone a nearly complete exile from the rest of ICCE, their friends, families, and homes. Johanson last reported that morale was perhaps at the lowest point in three years. Hollow’s men have always been devoted to him, and he has great powers of persuasion. I believe that they will move with him. In any case, it is a gamble, but I think it is a good one.

“Yes,” lisped James. “How much power is Williams going to expect? We can’t allow our entire strength to fall into his hands.” “It is unquestionably a- matter of trust and judgment,” said Jeremy.

“Personally, I don’t think he would want complete control. He is basically a soldier who prefers to follow, unless he can’t do it with dignity.”

“If you will excuse me for a moment,” Marie interjected, “there was once a soldier in the days of Rome by the name of Julius Caesar who did not stop short of complete control once he took the crucial step.”

“Yes, in the days of Rome,” said Willoughby, “But a Caesar is better than a Spurion. Besides, Blake is the grandson of George Williams who died in our first revolution.”

“That can’t be!” exclaimed Marie. “Both of George’s grandsons disappeared after the revolution! We have always assumed that they were put to death by Spurion!”

“They were taken to a secret complex,” said Jeremy, “and brainwashed. Spurion thought it was a fitting revenge that a rebel’s sons were turned into staunch defenders of I.C.C.E.”

“What a beast!” gasped Marie.

“Yes, it is true,” said Jeremy “and I think Blake and Kevin Williams have their father’s character, despite the brainwashing. They go the way of honor, when it is possible, and they are sincerely spiritual men, and not simply claiming it for the sake of the State. You can’t take such a faith from a man’s heart.

He will listen to his God.”

“Let us hope so,” said James. “But we must still check him in some way. I propose we move on to the discussion of satellite systems, where our control is most necessary and crucial.”

“Yes”, said Willoughby,” that would be appropriate. All that has been said is on tape for review later. We must press on.”

“Good” said Jeremy, “Then you have prepared a report, James?”

“Yes, I have,” he lisped. Marie was anxious, both because of the horrendously poor speaking manner of James, and because their seemed to be something driving him other than his natural tendencies. He. behaved as though he were in a lot of pain.

“We have placed men,” James began, “in crucial positions on the satellite repair unit. Given the proper timing and skill, they should be able to take control of three satellites, and implement the programs I have designed.”

“Could you explain the programs?” asked Marie.

“Yes, of course,” said James. “I have been experimenting with frequency distortion in sonic cars and stun ray frequency conversion. I have discovered that with proper rewiring and the implementation of a sonic structuring device, I can convert a stun ray to a simple sound wave.”

“What is a ’sonic structuring device?” asked Marie.

“It is a small computer which restructures the particle patterns of light to produce a sound effect, and as a consequence removing the effect of the stun dray. The sound effect can be predicted and altered to fit a desired frequency, such as that of the sonic cars in the ICCE complex. When the frequencies are matched, the sonic car. can be controlled by simple radio waves.”

“such as those from a transistor radio?” asked Marie.

“Yes”, James smiled broadly.

“A car could then be locked into a musical sound?′

“Yes,” said James. “We have done it here, as a form of entertainment. The reverberations throughout the machinery of the car give a most pleasant sensation, that is, if the music is good and ordered. We have discovered that loud, disoriented and chaotic music produces a similar effect on the occupants. They are unable to function decisively or coherently. It’s pure torture to some, who are unable to stand the utter chaos in their nervous system and brain patterns which result. Others find it a release of some kind”.

“I prefer Strauss” said Jeremy. “It’s the happiest balance of mind and body.

“Now gentlemen,” said. Willoughby, “Let us please return to the matter of strategy.” “Yes” said Jeremy, “You are right. We plan to use the satellites to disrupt the communications and transportation systems at the IGCE complex, which will give Blake Williams and our men the chance to move in and seize control of the central computer systems, which run the entire complex and the rest of the of the .satellites.”

“Do you think you can penetrate their security system?” asked Marie.

“That is where you come in, my dear, said Willoughby, ”You are the only one who knows that part of the complex. We need you to devise some plan of access.”

“I believe I will be able to help,” said Marie. “here are some inside who are absolutely loyal to me.”

“We had thought as much” said Jeremy. “You are very popular with the people. You are crucial to our overall success, and we will need you from beginning to end.”

“I have been waiting for years for a chance to remove Hollow from ICCE,” said Marie, “and I am committed to help you with all my strength. You can’t imagine the strength of purpose and desire the years of metering has built within me.”

“I think I can,” said Jeremy, hesitatingly reaching his long arm to carefully settle around her shoulders. He turned his blind eyes to blankly stare over her head. “I think I can.” Marie noticed a tear was rolling down his left cheek.