Less than Hero
Less than Hero
Less than Hero
That this work may pay homage to the Blessed Trinity and for the benefit of all life…
Someone told me that nothing is impossible because the word impossible says: I’m Possible to which I replied; ‘Equality is Possible’.
…for My Family
In 1996, the People’s Republic of China change’s their name to the Han Empire. The communist party says this is to honor the Han Dynasty and Genghis Khan. Political Analysts in the West warned that such a change must herald the forthcoming of Han expansion on a scale that no one could have predicted with respect to Tibet.
The Han Empire took over Airbus and renamed it Hanibus. Hanibus sales replaced the Russian Aircraft Corporation in sales to India, Iran and the Arab States.
Mongolia was annexed peacefully days before the Lunar New Year in 1997. By summer Korea and Japan had surrendered and the United States military withdrew to the Philippines with little fighting. In light of the Zed virus outbreak in New Mexico, it made sense why the United States withdrew from the Democratic Republic of Korea and Japan. At this time Afghanistan, Pakistan, India, Iran, and Iraq needed to be protected from the Han Empire who had already taken over the region economically.
Kyrgyzstan and Nepal were annexed in 1998.
Vietnam and Cambodia were next at the end of 1998.
The US protected the Philippines and Taiwan.
By 2000 South East Asia was under control of the Han Empire. The United States of America asked the Emperor and the Han Empire not to invade the Philippines, Taiwan, Pakistan, and India in exchange they would withdraw from Afghanistan, Iran, and Iraq.
On July 26, 2001, the treaty was signed and by December 2001 the United States military had withdrawn from the aforementioned countries.
At the beginning of 2002, we had begun the conquest of Siberia and we slowly consumed Russia for the next fifteen years.
March 8th, 2017 12:01 am…the Han Empire launched five, one hundred megaton nuclear ballistic missiles toward Moscow. I, Alistair Rhys Chapman board an Hanibus H110 in Beijing. Arriving in St Petersburg at 3:45 am. The flight is about eight hours, but the time difference is five hours less. So right now, in Beijing, it is almost nine am and St Petersburg it is four am and I am having a bit of green tea.
The missiles detonated in a ring around Moscow’s suburbs.
One in Kresty, the next in Lyubertsy, Pushkino, Yesino, and the last in Kuntsevo District. They all detonated at nearly the same time. It wasn’t a ring but more of a border to corral the survivors fleeing the area to the center of Moscow. March 8th, 2017 at 12:47 am the nuclear warheads exploded over the outskirts of Moscow.
A young girl named Ksenia had been out with her friends and met up with a boy from her class at the rave on a Tuesday evening. They were 15 and went into the women’s toilet for privacy. And after washing off, they went back to the dance floor. Where they were almost doing the same thing as they had done in the toilet.
As the DJ was transitioning from Moby’s ‘Feel So Real’ to Fatboy Slim’s ‘Praise You’ the Han Empire Warheads detonated.
“We’ve come a long, long way together…” and all the crowd began to jump in unison.
“through the hard times and the good…” and there was no more rave. There was no more Ksenia…no more rave kids. Fire rained down on Kresty and the other suburbs of Moscow.
There was more than one Hanibus H110 that left Beijing that night. The soldiers of the Han Empire carried Norinco assault rifles. Much of the storage area had other Norinco weapons and I carry a nine-millimeter handgun. Hanibus stole the designs for all the Airbus aircraft and made some Chinese modifications. And so, three Hanibus Golden Dragon (H080) cargo planes and several Hanibus fighters flew in formation with my ambassador Hanibus H110…
“Tell St Petersburg when we land, they will sign the terms of surrender and if the fighting doesn’t end…that Kyiv and Minsk are next.”
I had located Sarah some time ago. She has a family now. It sounds strange but the men I sent to find her I asked them to pass a message that she should live close if not in the Zombie Protected Zone. The Han Empire found out about the ‘Zed Virus’ as one of the reasons the United States didn’t defend Japan, Korea, and the Philippines.
I sat at the window of the airplane that was mainly for me, Alistair Chapman Han Empire ambassador to Russia. Since I’m part Irish…the People’s Emperor thinks I will be better received.
Emperor Liu…Liu Hui the People’s Emperor of the Han Empire.
He had done so much because of the Grey Alien occupation of the Xinjiang Province. The local population was unaware of the Grey Alien’s presence in their province. The Uyghur population was compliant with the Han empire’s request to stay away from one of the military bases in the Taklamakan desert. The Grey Aliens built the military base with the help of some of the Han Empire’s best and brightest.
Most of the world doesn’t know that when Richard Nixon came for a visit everyone in the Presidential entourage was knocked out one night and they left their contribution to genetic diversity. And the future of the Han Empire’s espionage. All of this runs through my head as we fly to St Petersburg. I have a report that the Russian Navy left port to avoid surrender. Emperor Liu said that this may happen and if it does to just let the Russian Navy go. They cannot afford the bad press of not accepting the surrender because the Russian Navy has gone AWOL.
In the Grey Alien Base in Xinjiang, the Han scientists turned over the genetic material of Richard Nixon, Henry Kissinger, Winston Lord, William Rodgers, Thelma Catherine (Pat) Nixon, and several Secret Service Agents. The Han had already impregnated several surrogates so that President Nixon as another son and Pat Nixon has children with all the men of the envoy. A couple of Air Force One stewardesses also gave their contribution.
There was enough original material and genetic material from their progeny to impregnate more surrogates and create a platoon of Han clandestine agents fit for service to the Americas, Europe, Africa, and Australia. The women agents were to get pregnant and disappear…bringing their child back to Beijing. The men were used as bait to help kidnap women or children. That’s how I came to China, to be trained by the Shaolin and come to the service of the Han Clandestine Service before becoming an ambassador to the newly acquired territory of Russia in charge of making the decision to continue the invasion of Europe.
There are rumors that the United States had a huge leap in technology during the zombie outbreak because of the establishment of the Zombie Protected Zone. The Grey Aliens won’t help us with certain technologies…I have the suspicion they have similar technology and are manipulating the Han Empire with these rumors. If we think that soon the Greys will help us in our own technological advances, we are more apt to cater to the Grey Aliens…to the point we might roll out the welcome wagon to a Grey occupying force.
We hear about gravity generators and something that can create a time wave…and break apart water molecules. My glorious Emperor Liu Hui sent some clandestine agents and they brought back reports of a handheld gadget that makes a time wave. Space/Time is plucked like a string instrument. A standing wave is created at such a frequency that the time of the electron cloud that creates the bond between hydrogen and oxygen is disrupted so the bond is dissolved for thirty seconds. The life form becomes dust and as the dust hit the floor the water drops onto the dust. I watched a video of a cow…one moment it was chewing cud the next moment it was dust in the wind and then the water fell like a miniature rainstorm. And then November 5th, 2009…the Han Empire sent clandestine agents to be among the crowd and use camera phones to…well we didn’t need to see the camera phone footage because the newly freed American Media was live as the ‘Blood Rain’ fell. The cameras kept rolling even without cameramen…or camerawomen.
It will be four in the morning when I step off the plane in St Petersburg. The Russians were told that they would sign the terms of Surrender at noon March 8th, 2017 the one-hundredth anniversary of the Communist Revolution. At noon so I may get some rest. Sleeping on a plane is different than sleeping and relaxing in a hotel room.
We believe the Americans have Gravity Generators that like the Grey Aliens power their Space Ships and Fusion Generators.
For about an hour I thought about the Space/Time wave…if Space/Time can be condensed with mass…and Matter creates gravity, maybe antimatter stretches space/time so that electrons slow as they have to go across greater distances and so the bonds of molecules like water dissolve into their constituent part without breaking…a good analogy would be cracking ice to separate the frozen water and pouring liquid water into separate cups…breaking the ice might cause an explosion like breaking the hydrogen off the oxygen whereas pulling space/time might just dissolve the bonds and hydrogen would go one way and the oxygen would go another…this wouldn’t last for very long and the atoms would come back together.
In 2012, the Grey Aliens asked to establish another underground base in Tunguska Forest. This place was famous for a meteor impact during the event in 1908, the area is so remote that no deaths were confirmed but it is possible that two people died.
I heard a rumor from someone in Beijing…among the Han Intelligence. They said that my little sister Elsa maybe be in Russia or in Europe in general. I hope she wasn’t in Moscow when the warheads detonated.
It is cold in St Petersburg. I was told to dress in a modern style of the West…having grown up in the United States of America, I kept thinking of dressing like a cowboy, instead of in an Italian suit and overcoat for warmth. I had bought a Fedora and a couple of beanies. The Fedora was for camera opportunities outdoors and the beanies for when the pictures stopped to keep my ears warm from the St Petersburg winds.
Sarah Cardenal…was somewhere in Oregon miles away from the ‘Zone’. On the off chance of War…Han agents would kidnap her and her family and bring them into the Han Empire.
We are about one hour away from landing.
I vaguely remember walking off the airplane at Pulkovo airport. I stepped onto the tarmac and into a bulletproof Range Rover…and driven to my Hotel.
The Lotte…I think. A Russian model came with the room.
She woke me up at ten in the morning. And she proved her worth as a consort and comfort in these strange times. She said before we showered that a soldiers’ fur hat with the Han Empire emblem might be better suited than a fedora for photo opportunities and a beanie for warmth. And so, the Han had consulted with the Russians and that hat was waiting in my closet with the black Italian suits and black overcoats.
We made love…if you call that love in the shower.
Crowds gathered outside the hotel. And the note from Han intelligence said that Elsa was among the crowds in St Petersburg the afternoon of the unconditional surrender. The Russian Navy left port to defect to the Americans…the United States of America would hide the Russian Navy in their ports, Mexican ports, Brazilian ports, Argentine ports…It was the fear of the Han Empire.
They renamed the Presidential suite in my honor. She told me her name, but she said she comes compliments of the Hotel and…she almost said the Russian Government, harkening back to a time when our two nations were friendly.
It was nearly time to leave for Victory Square and to sign the Surrender…
Crowds of Russians were outside the Lotte hotel when my Range Rover drove away. Some of the crowd followed us to Victory Square.
The Russian model did what Russians do best as we drove…she sucked the Han Empire’s cock and cleaned up my mess.
We left the vicinity of St Issacs’s Square…and as we approached Victory square, I could see the iconic statue of ‘the Defender’s’ was rubble in the square…the media gathered. The Han Empire allowed the media from other countries to televise the humiliation of the Russian people.
The day the Russian bear got fucked in the ass.
After I read the speech, Victoire and I got back into the Range Rover.
“Sir, there is a girl on a motorcycle following us.” My driver said as Victoria the Russian Model sucked the Han Empire’s cock…
“I have a feeling it’s Elsa…ignore her.” I told my driver. He sped up. Han Intelligence told me she was in St Petersburg after being escorted out of Moscow…she rode a motorcycle with a sidecar. My sister is a classy lady, to say the least.
“You can’t be here, Elsa…” I say to her as she approaches me in the hotel Lotte’s café where whatshername and I are having coffee. Before going back to the Governor’s room for sex that will degrade Victoire’s entire people.
“Fuck you and the People’s Empire,” Elsa said. I actually proposed the idea of calling it the ‘People’s Empire’ but someone pointed out that it sounded like something Dwayne Johnson would say at WrestleMania. So, the Communist Party sent some people to ask him if he would come to lend the People’s Elbow to the People’s Republic. It was a failure, to say the least. The State Department and the FBI saw this coming a mile away.
Victoria sat with me for a moment and then went to the bar to get me a drink. Vodka is better than Huangjiu but she walked over with a bottle of Vodka and Kaoliang wine…while a waitress brought out food. We were previously escorted into the restaurant area. I made sure Elsa came along. We sat at a table in the middle of the room. I sat so I could watch the entrance to the banquet room. Soldiers acting as bodyguards sat at a booth behind me and two more near the entrance to the room.
Elsa sat across from me with her back to the door. Victoire sat to my left and the waitress to my right. This was family business so I thought that the furniture should be put away.
“Victoire, dear…take your friend and go back to my room. I think next week I will be living in the Winter Palace. And you, Victoire will be one of the one hundred maids tending to the Han Governor’s needs.” I have grown cold in the years of service to the Han People. Thirteen million people were killed as a condition of surrender.
The Emperor had taken the Asian portion of Russia and since the Russians failed to surrender with the right words. They said the wrong thing that offended Liu Hui…but I know it was we knew the Russian Navy would leave port and defect to the West. We were told they were getting ready.
The Russian President was in Moscow…
The Russian President told Emperor Liu the Russian People would surrender…
The Russian President never asked Liu Hui for mercy…
As the condition of the surrender, Emperor Liu sent the nuclear missiles…
He should have rained death upon the Russian ports as well…
I ate some food…it tasted for nothing. It lacked the spices I grew up with.
I looked at my sister. It sometimes seems like a dream my life before I was a stowaway on my journey to China and to become the man I am today. Cold and heartless, I stare at Elsa Chapman. She is a stranger, who thinks she knows me. I hold no such reservations.
In the time of the Romanov Tsars, the Winter Palace was staffed by over a thousand servants. It’s strange Emperor Liu thinks highly of me…a former Shaolin monk, a stowaway from San Francisco…light-skinned foreign-born man. Walking into the Winter Palace…I see proof that the Emperor of the Han Empire wants me to do a good job. There are five hundred more servants here today than in the time of the Romanov Tsars and they are here for my sexual desires.
There are cooks…who I don’t care about to make food I may have enjoyed when I was young.
There are topless models to wait on my need. Victoire walked around nude except for a Han Empire red silk robe open at the front. She has the most beautiful black hair and jade colored eyes the sparkle. There are twenty other former European models who are dressed the same way and serve the same function. And for my encouragement, there are girls wearing robes inspired by the flags of other countries I have yet to conquer.
Sex is a good way to motivate people to do things…men confuse it with love, so they become attached to the person who is merely acting as an object. An exploited woman in an occupied land given to the Governor as a prize…which cheapens the idea of courtship because if these ladies don’t serve me one way, they will serve another way, or they will rot in one of in the mass graves along the roads leaving St Petersburg.
There was business, I must attend to each day but often it was on my schedule. I was awakened by Victoire and the girl who wore the French robe…felatio and a cup of green tea. Shower before breakfast. France set a cup of coffee with cream next to the sink as Victoire shaved me sometimes I shaved my own face. I sipped the coffee before I got in the shower with France to wash me…I stepped out and we towel dried each other. Victoire handed me an electric toothbrush with a bit of toothpaste on it. I turned it on as France and Victoire continued to dry my body. I’m not exceptionally muscular…I’m not chubby either. I would dare say I was fit. The two ladies would apply lotions and deodorants…colognes and pomade to finish. Once a week, France would cut my hair and dye it if any grey was showing.
Einstein wore the same thing each day to save brainpower when choosing what to wear each morning. I was given seven Italian suits. They were all the same.
Black suit jacket…
Black suit vest…
Han Empire red handkerchief…
Black Russian Soldier’s hat with the Han Empire Five Star emblem…
Red Five Star Flag boxer briefs…
France and Victoire helped put on my black Doc Marten’s Vintage 1460 boots as I sat on a stool in front of a dressing mirror. I thought any other boot might be too expensive and flashy.
We walked hand in hand in hand to have breakfast by 8 am.
Victoire has such a beautiful body but she always wore black lace bracelets around her wrists.
“These things are my only bit of body adornment…I don’t like jewelry…” she said as she let her robe drop to the floor in my dining room.
“Something for you to think about as you work, today,” she said. It is her job to love me. These servants…these girls love me for their sake. They take care of my and feign human emotion or they end up being transferred or disappearing.
Every morning, most of the Han girls and girls in need of Han conquest sat having breakfast. Sometimes, the dim sum was consumed with chopsticks. Sometimes, the steak and eggs consume with forks and knives. Italy kept the espresso coming each morning. On occasion, she would make a latte or a mocha. Many Mornings…I would have a French press. Breakfast tea or green tea with breakfast on Sundays.
And each work day I would wonder about the toilet habits of the nearly naked servants. I would tour the city and hear of news from the front or terrorist attacks in Japan and the Philippines…the Emperor said I oversaw Russia and our conquest of Europe. The first six months would be about setting up shop and cleaning house in European Russia. Then the plan was to fund terrorism in Poland, Norway, Finland, and Ukraine. I’ve become fond of Spain as a workmate…
This happened at ten in the morning. In June, I am to take part in some combat training. Martial arts, handguns, assault rifles, and wilderness survival were the agenda for the halfway point of the six months period where the Russian people would get to know me their governor and the Han government. The Russian army was drafted into the Han forces, imprisoned or executed as terrorists depending on the level of cooperation given to the Han Forces. Many of the soldiers were suspicious but adhered to the Han commanders. Only time will tell who would be loyal and how we will deal with those who prove to be disloyal.
And each day I wonder why the Emperor of the Han Empire choose me. The Empire needs genetic diversity. The Empire cannot conquer the same way the Khans did…raping and pillaging taking resources and leaving women pregnant are inefficient ways to conduct the Conquest of the World.
The daily drudgery was counterbalanced with the time in the Winter Palace getting warm with my staff. I was warming up Russia as well with my speeches and the work of a governor trying to improve the lives of the people I am to govern. I don’t govern the land; I govern the people tied to that land. And each week this continued. May First, I made my Worker’s Day speech. Now only days before the June War games and preparation for the invasion to the west, I am growing weary of being kind to the Flag Girls.
I feel like Moammar Khadafi with all my Flag Girls dressed in Han soldiers’ uniforms. They had their hair in a bun underneath their helmets. I had the privilege of helping all 180 of them with their hair and getting dressed. Before the Han Empire began expanding there were one hundred ninety-five countries two of which were not part of the UN…the Vatican (Holy See) and Palestine. So, one hundred ninety-three countries in the UN and now with Han expansion…
I decided to round down to one hundred eighty Flag Girls. And except for the Han Girls, all had the Flag Girls had the name of the country they represented as their name…on their dog tags, their name tags, and their lockers in the field camp…Mexico, El Salvador, Norway, Poland…etcetera. Most if not all my Flag Girls were European or Russian models who were not in Moscow when the warheads detonated.
Many mornings, Spain spoke to me of her easy surrender as she got on her knees and I quieted her fears. There were a lot of gnats, flies, and what I can only imagine were mosquitoes. Victoire lights citronella candles each night when we set up camp or return to a base camp consisting of wooden cabins built by the Han forces the first day of our exercises. There were showers were my personal assistants and I showered each evening.
I have one hundred eighty personal assistants and there are twenty thousand Han forces participating in these war games. War games seem to be such a misnomer…war is not a game. It reminds of an urban legend of a birthday party invaded by the jealous neighbors with loaded guns…it was all serious until the police arrived then the death threats and loaded guns were just party favors. And the roofied girls…drank too much.
Spain in her eternal intelligence asked the question everyone was wondering… “Governor, Alistair, why are you favored by the Han Emperor?”
We…by we, I mean Spain and thirty of the Flag Girls and I were in the shower, France’s mouth was full… Spain and Morocco were shampooing and scrubbing my skin with a loofa and a musty smelling body wash. Jordan was paying special attention to my backside.
“I was a stowaway to China…I ended up in Shao Lin as a teenager. I was taught martial arts and soon the Han recruited me for their espionage program. My first assignment was to go to the US and kidnap non-Asian looking teenage girls. There I was in Valencia, California at Magic Mountain picking up twelve-year-old girls. I was fifteen. I had a fake family and date rape drugs. I would approach a group of girls…act friendly. Build a rapport with one of the young ladies. Separate her from her friends after learning she was not accompanied by her parents. Treat her to a soft drink, lunch, and some ice cream. The drink has roofies in it and after some time my parents come with a wheelchair. Her friends were busy riding Colossus or Psychclone with my comrades. Security notices nothing and my ‘Parents’ give her another injection and we leave under the guise that my sister is very tired from all the fun. My comrades leave with their escorts and we drive to the docks and board a Han freighter…no questions at the docks. I did this until I was 25. As a teen, I kidnapped girls in amusement parks in California and as a young adult, I continued my special work in bars, dance clubs, colleges…and sororities. I did this for about eleven years for my Emperor. Liu Hui was very interested in me…I came up with the idea…I trained some of the other children. Before me, the Han relied on Europeans and Africans coming to the Olympics or tourists to Mainland China, Japan, Korea, and the POW’s from Viet Nam lured by whores paid by the Chinese. European Russians were kidnapped during their war in Afghanistan with the help of the CIA trained Taliban…Ironically, bribed by the People’s Republic of China. Jamestown…Many people were kidnapped before the Chinese defectors orchestrated the mass suicide. We were racially segregated so that our offspring could continue this type of espionage. We have our own city…”
Victoire took my hand and we walked out of the shower and she towel dried me and Yuliya rapped a robe around me and I slipped some flip flops on and we walked into the changing area. I wore a black uniform. Black cargo pants…
Black combat boots…
Black spring field jacket…
Black A Shirt…
Han red boxer briefs…
Black short brim field cap…with Han insignia on the front.
Victoire and Spain helped me to dress. This was at 7 am and I walked outside and then escorted me to the mess hall for breakfast.
Biscuits and gravy…
And more laid out at a buffet table. The soldiers served themselves and the kitchen staff was to keep the food at the correct temperature, clean, and full during the breakfast hours. And then the rest of the day they were given lunch packs or Russian military rations. When the Han and the Grey Aliens began working together much of the land became fertile and with expansion, farmland grew where the West thought there was only forests or deserts. And this was the gift the Han brought…more food than Russia knew what to do with. And farming technology so produce was fresh and never spoiled when I got to the markets.
Tunguska Forests and others like it were part of a logging project. Areas were logged and replanted, and paper mills churned out paper goods at such a rate that the United States and then later the Kingdom of America could not keep up…and began to buy from us.
A week went by without incident…
I awoke with a black cloth bag over my head, my hands were tied behind my back, and my feet tied to the legs of the chair I was sitting in. My mouth was taped closed. I remembered a saying as a child: “Silence is Golden, Duct Tape is Silver”.
Was this part of the training?
Was this part of the war games? Was this the part…the surprise to our new Governor. I felt that I was uninjured. They must have injected me while I slept or slipped something into my nightcap.
An author worries about tense…i.e. the use of present tense or past tense, yet I, Alistair, Governor of West Russia, worry about this most tense of situations. Is this kidnapping part of the training maneuvers, the Han Forces have asked that I be privy to?
I could hear footsteps but there were no voices. My head was covered up, so I imagined that they used hand signals to communicate. I could hear groans as if they had other hostages bound and gagged nearby so I tried to make a vocalization with the tape over my mouth. I wouldn’t be so afraid if they were speaking Russian, English or another language they believed I could understand but not speaking at all…this isn’t part of the maneuvers. This isn’t part of the maneuvers is all I could think for some time before I passed out.
When I awoke, I imagined these kidnappers silently texting, using sign language or writing to each other on mini dry erase boards hung around their necks. I almost giggled thinking about my silent kidnappers communicating this way.
I know, I’m drugged. I slip into and out of consciousness. In this state like a dream, I hear the voice of my mom accusing me of being a tyrant and misogynist…that I should have treated these people better and not employed one hundred eighty women to be my sex slaves…these ladies had become my verbal and at times physical punching bags. And after all those years away from my family, I can hear my mom telling me… ‘Alistair, I didn’t raise you to be a dirtbag…’ And then I drift off and, in this dream, I think I see and hear Elsa screaming at me. Screaming because the dead in Moscow cannot scream.
I didn’t push the button. I wasn’t standing over a homeless man with a thirty-eight-special pointed at him. I didn’t pull the trigger and kill a defenseless man sitting in front of a liquor store. I was assigned the governorship of Western Russia. The terms of surrender were the Emperor’s alone. My airplane took off at the same time the missiles were launched.
“My name is Arbol Woods…but most people call me Ruth.” Her voice was the next voice I heard after what seemed like a week. These kidnappers had put an IV in my arm for liquids and nutrients. I was drugged so I have vague recollections of being on the toilet, eat solid food, and showering.
I pass out soon after being dragged into a room where I see Victoire and a couple of my Flag Girls bound with cloth bags over their heads. I felt it was Victoire because of the bracelets. Italy sat next to her. I knew this because they tore Italy’s shirt open and I felt her nipples were staring into my soul. It was either my psychic connection with my Flag Girl’s naughty bits or the drugs they were giving me to keep me barely conscious. In my mind, I think, I began to confuse being conscious with having a conscience. As a kid studying the heroes’ journey, I thought that the cosine wave best described the events during this journey. First, we are faced with an obstacle that begins the journey…A setback, we hit bottom and then we rise to the challenge and the climax and resolution leave us in the future but now we are at a baseline. Down less than zero. Rise above zero. End on zero. Begin on the left, high on the graph…start the journey through space/time going to the right…falling below zero, meeting a challenge that the hero cannot readily overcome and rising to the occasion to battle hitting the climax above zero and then coming to the end at a resolution of zero…
And the need to explain this theory twice…came about from the need to fill pages with words.
According to Han Intelligence Arbol Woods, Ruth created a religious sect to worship the Zombies that her uncle created with his bumbling and the November Fifth incident that ruined the union between the Kingdom of America and Europe. Mesi Misri, who is presumed dead, triggered some device that broke the bonds between the hydrogen and oxygen atoms. For long enough so that life became dust and the water for a three-mile radius broke apart and recombined with the iron and dust in the air to create a blood rain…
The broadcast was seen around the world, live millions cheered in the west they cheer because of the overthrow of tyranny. In the Han Empire people cheer because now it would be easy to invade the west.
I’m drenched with water. I know its water and not gasoline or alcohol because it doesn’t smell like gasoline or alcohol. A hand reaches under the black cloth bag to rip off the duct tape. The tape must have been reapplied several times during a couple of days but no more than a week when I was feed with a feeding tube while I was knocked out. I was given castor oil and a gentle laxative, so I shat myself while unconscious. I was given a fresh pair of briefs after I defecated. I hoped they dressed me in my Han red Boxer Briefs and black A-shirt.
I still heard no voices as they removed the cloth bag that was over my head. I reeled from the shock of a very bright flood light in my eyes. Slowly, someone pulled the light back and turned it off. As I opened my eyes, I could see a window with natural light shining through.
The Army exercises took play near Melovoye in the Oblast of Belgorod. But now I could see we were in a home. Later I would learn we were in a small home in the small town of Vengerovka in the Oblast of Belgorod.
The first voice I heard after regaining consciousness said this, “I’m Ruth Woods. This is not part of the war games you were taking part in. I kidnapped you on behalf of the American Government.”
Victoire was in a chair next to me. She has the most beautiful green eyes they sparkled like emeralds. She had bandages around her wrists, yet she was still handcuffed with her hand behind the back of the chair. Her hair was in a bun on the back of her head. She has such beautiful skin. Her skin was slightly tan…someone would argue that such a radiance of her skin would warrant the compliment; ‘You are glowing, my dear heart’. Her mouth was taped closed as well. It was such a shame because she has the best smile and what college frat boys call; ‘Dick Sucking Lips’ or ‘DSL’s’ when their mothers or girls with ’DSL’s are around thinking that the women of the world don’t know about sucking cock or immature boys with codes. The battle of the sexes (sexes is a palindrome) has nothing to do with love. Its terminology is misleading, to say the least. Dating isn’t that hard if our society didn’t teach men that being macho is synonymous with misogyny. Love isn’t just the submission of a woman to a man sexually but a man surrendering to the idea that if he keeps his gloves on, he can box a new opponent each night or he can let the lady knock him out.
But to say I haven’t grown fond of her as a lady with intellect and that special something that makes me think I can trust her as an advisor. At first, I thought she was only thrust-worthy and then I realize she is a seemingly trustworthy lady. She is filled with more good things than just the Han Empire’s penis…she has a good head on her shoulders. All puns intended. The things I think of being bound to a chair with my mouth taped shut. I’m not sure whether or not to struggle because even though Ruth Woods said she was working for the Americans; how would I verify that she isn’t lying. I don’t have a serial number…if they ask me to talk. In those old movies, the captured soldiers would only tell their captors; name, rank, and serial numbers. My name is Alistair Rhys Chapman and I’m the despotic Han Empire Governor of Western Russia. I was chosen because I’m non-Asian looking. I am what people call Caucasian or White. My family is of Irish-German descent and I used to be an American. I speak English, Russian, French, Castilian Spanish, Catalan Spanish, Mandarin, Cantonese, and Japanese. I lived with the Shaolin…
“We are going to burn Beijing for what the Emperor did to Moscow…What is the sound of one hand clapping!” she yelled slapping me hard enough that spittle and a bit of blood flew out of my mouth. My nose began to bleed. Arbol ‘Ruth’ Woods stood next to Sarah Cardenal who now closed her hand into a fist. Sarah grabbed my hair and began to punch me as if we were in the main event at WrestleMania. Thinking of this scene I couldn’t help but laugh. Like when a child gets a spanking for their mother and begins to realize how absurd it is. Even though it hurts like a motherfucker, I can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of being spanked at the age of 14…or my childhood sweetheart break my nose.
“I sent spies to find you. You’re married with kids living just outside the Zombie Protected Zone in Oregon.” I said to the ‘Card’ when she stopped punching me in the face after she realized she had broken my nose. She is married now, and I have my Flag Girls. The Emperor suggested I should impregnate my personal assistants. I couldn’t smell any urine or feces, so I surmised that the room where we were held was hosed down each day or that I was bathed while unconscious.
For someone who has absolutely no conscience, I thought it was appropriate that I was kept unconscious by those who kidnapped me for not having a conscience. At that point, I passed out and was awakened shortly after with smelling salts. Now, Sarah pressed her thumb into my broken nose with her index finger under my nostrils. This motion was like a pinch, push, and press that was so excruciating that again I passed out. I began to dream about the movie ‘Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy’ with Zoe Deschanel and Martin Freedman and how my nose was going to be shaped like a Vogon’s nose when Sarah was done interrogating me.
Ruth came into the room and wiped my nose very painfully. Ruth unveiled Victoire and tore the silver duct tape from her mouth in the most seemingly painful way.
“Psstiff.” She vocalized her pain with bloody spittle coming from her mouth.
Victoire turned her head to look around the room. She seemed surprised to see me.
“What kind of trouble have you gotten me into now?” Victoire said looking at me almost feigning a smile but I surmised that she smiled to show me her mouth was bleeding.
I thought I heard a Steven Segal movie playing in the other room. Last I heard Comrade Segal was living in the Tunguska Forest. Living a closeted alternative lumberjack lifestyle with some sheep and a former costar who will forever remain nameless.
How stupid I felt when Steven Segal walked into the room.
“I moved to Russia in preparation for the Han invasion. The United States of America and the Russia Federation felt that placing their differences aside they could battle the more serious threat to freedom and democracy…” Steven Segal said standing in the doorway to my left. Steven stood there eating a sandwich in the doorway between the kitchen and the room where Victoire and I were being held. If my sense of smell was up to snuff, Steven Segal was eating a Philly Cheesesteak.
“Vladimir…” Steven beckoned to the former leader of the Russian Federation. At this moment, I imagined these two men riding a single horse bareback without shirts on…at that moment I giggled and was enlightened as to why Segal moved to the Tunguska forest or Russia at all.
I wore a black A-Shirt and nothing else. Some people would call this style ‘Shirt Cocking’ but I thought I looked like it should be called; ‘Wife-Beater-in love’…
I’m glad Victoire and France shaved my balls and my back the day before we were kidnapped. Why do I call it a kidnapping? We are not children. We were abducted and our mouths were duct taped. We are adults and I am the governor of Western Russia. I looked around and I saw another Flag Girl bound and gagged and one of the Russian soldiers who was trusted in the Han forces. He too was bound and gagged. Black Sack over his head, handcuffs, his wrists had bandages like the others. I don’t have bandages, maybe my entourage put up a struggle and the handcuffs cut their wrists.
At this point, I wondered if they had hooked jumper cables to a battery and then to my scrotum. Instead, Ruth uncuffed my hands and gave me a fresh pair of Han red boxer briefs. I was led into the toilet and allowed to shit, shave and shower. My clothes were clean and dry hanging on the back of the toilet door. As I shaved, I wondered if I needed a haircut or if anything in here could be used as a weapon and hidden on my person to aid in my escape. There was nothing.
I finished and to my surprise, there was a hairbrush and pomade to style my hair. I opened the door to the hallway and found a soldier with a balaclava and goggles on to hide his identity. He had a Norinco clone of an M-16 the Han empire had come a long way since the days of the QBZ-95. It had some modifications that Norinco thought would be helpful when conquering the world. They also make a clone of an AK-47. What was helpful in cloning the guns of the enemy is that the invading forces could make use of the dead soldiers’ ammunition. We could replenish our forces supplies with the supplies of the dead. So, there was a soldier with his face covered holding a Norinco Ak-47 clone…it was appropriately named Norinco-47or N-47.
I’ll always remember the day I came back to the United States of America.
I woke up in a small locked room. It was like a hospital room, clean. It smelled of betadine, alcohol, and bleach. There was a breeze blowing in through the bars on the door and window. I sat on the edge of the bed as a guard opened the door and another soldier brought in a tray of food. I had steak…a porterhouse. I ate a huge porterhouse steak cooked rare with some fried potatoes and sliced tomatoes. There was a salad with shredded carrots and romaine lettuce topped with croutons and house dressing…this dressing had a hint of blue cheese. The sun went down. I fell asleep.
In the morning the pleasant cage of a clean hospital was replaced by the odd dichotomy of the stench of cigarette smoke, and hospital smells. It seems that during my slumber I was transferred to a psych ward or a drug rehabilitation hospital. I sat up and there was no lock on the door of my room. I had a roommate and cigarette stench lingered and I felt a bit befuddled, groggy to say the least. I interacted with some of the staff and patients in English as it was the language I heard when I woke up. There were a couple of people speaking Spanish…I thought we were in Southern California because of the accents and when I went out to the patio, I could smell salt and sunscreen in the air. It was lunchtime…I ate. A young lady began to speak to me.
“After lunch, they are having arts and crafts.” She said. “It is supposed to help with the nerves and coping skills so that we control our emotions better but most everyone is so doped up that we no longer have emotions to control.” She smiled and drank some milk from an individual sized carton and some apple juice from one of those foil topped cups. I looked at her eating and I forgot to eat.
“Aren’t you hungry?” She asked. “I’m so hungry that’s why they call me Hungarian…It’s a joke.”
I knew it was a joke.
“I’m just a bit confused.” I think I said it in English…Not Mandurian or Russian.
“More things will be revealed as they say in Narcotics Anonymous. I’m here because I’m not all there. Most everyone here was so high they thought they were the Han Empire’s Governor to Western Russia…” She shoveled some meatloaf and mashed potatoes into her mouth.
I smiled and began to eat.
That was lunch. I went to arts and crafts after lunch. It struck me as odd that we built models patterned after the anime series ‘Mobile Suit Gundam UC’…and the infinite spinoffs. I was to build Wing Gundam Zero…it was Heero Yuy’s mobile suit. I had associated Heero’s name with his role as the protagonist or the hero.
I looked at the arts and crafts instructor…I wanted to say but she said what was on the tip of everyone’s tongue.
“With a model like that…Alistair, you are going to be here a while.” Rona Mesri was one of the psychiatric therapists and moderator of some of the activities.
I was able to put some of the Gundam together and as we finished, I put my ongoing project ‘Zero’ into the box with the parts yet to find their place. I thought my love of Mobile Suit manga and anime wasn’t so common knowledge that my American captors would know about it. In times and places like these one begins to question the nature of their reality. This is the objective of my being in a psychiatric hospital in the United States of America inside of the Zombie Protected Zone…imprisoned in the ‘Z’ building a Gundam Wing. I went back to my room and set the box with the model on the nightstand next to my bed. I had a roommate who lay on the bed across the room.
“Coming to realize that we are powerless over what other people do to us…is the greatest fallacy we are taught, first. The idea that if we can’t beat them, we must join them is another of these fallacies that seem logical at first introduction.” He said as he wrote in his composition notebook. This was his journal.
“We are all the heroes of our lives…” He finished as he got to his feet. He wore black moccasin style house shoes. He was thin. He was alcoholic thin. He was anorexic thin. His eyes were a bit sunken in as if from being dehydrated from drinking too much alcohol and not enough water.
I sat on my bed watching him as he walked into the hallway. I opened the drawer of the nightstand, took out my composition notebook and put the model box into the drawer. There was a pen in the drawer as well as an Alcoholic Anonymous text and a Narcotics Anonymous Basic Text. I’m was a Han Governor to Western Russia and now it seems that I am a political prisoner being held in an asylum within the ‘Z’…I couldn’t help but mull this over in my mind. The cycle of contemplation went on for ten minutes and off for five minutes. I had a five-minute reprieve from thinking how I got here and what the Emperor would do to me or what he would do to ensure the secrets I know don’t become known to the Americans.
I knew little about the twelve steps, but I was taught the Four Noble Truths and the Eight-fold Path, and I was raised in a Catholic Boarding School. And I know that many people in power twist ideology for their own benefit. I know this all too well.
I’m in the Zombie Protected Zone. I am required to try to escape or to make my captors lives a living hell. And so, I sat in the Royal position on the side of my bed looking out the window with my feet flat on the floor. I began to meditate. Breathe in…Slowly.
I was dressed in nothing but a hospital gown and white briefs.
The next morning before breakfast, I took a shower and was given the privilege to shave my face with staff supervision. A nurse’s aide went into the shower room with me and gave me a disposable razor…a Bic type razor. After shaving, Leon left the shower room with the razor. I began to shower. I washed my whole body with hospital liquid body and hair wash. When I finished, I looked in the mirror again to see the black eyes and a broken nose. I dried myself and put on some white briefs and hospital gowns. If one puts one gown and ties the front to cover the back and another tied around the side or back…I found myself fully covered. But when I opened the shower door, I found on the floor a neatly stacked bundle of clothing. Slippers, several clean A-shirts, clean black boxer briefs about four, four black socks, some Dickies shorts, a pair of jeans, and four T-shirts. We weren’t allowed to have shoelaces or belts, but the pants fit perfectly. There was a stupid man walking around with brown Dickie shorts. These shorts were too big and to compensate he had a Howard the Duck shirt. He then tucked his stupid shirt into his shorts in the hopes this would help his pants stay around his waist, not around his ankles. And so, he walked up and down the hallway shuffling, tucking his shirt, and pulling up his shorts.
A couple of days into this whole routine, I laid down for a nap and when I awoke, I was back in the Winter Palace and Spain was sucking my dick. Canada does it better mostly because it comes naturally to Canadians…sucking cock. Canada isn’t really a Canadian just a European model or actress who got caught up in the war. The smell of cheap cigarettes and rubbing alcohol is burned into my brain. I know that no one is using rubbing alcohol or smoking cheap cigarettes that therapists pass out to schizophrenics and drug addicts in asylums to keep them occupied. I came…
We got up, Victoire, Canada, Spain, and Ireland. They helped me shave and shower. Spain cut my hair. I went to the mirror to shave and I could see my black eyes healing my broken nose healing, and Victoire put some rubbing alcohol on my open cuts. I showered with Ireland. She was attentive to my needs. I thought what am I supposed to say about this memory of being kidnapped by Americans? And Steven Segal and Vladimir Putin were homosexual lovers helping the Americans…with what because I’m back in St Petersburg. Maybe I’ll be the new Manchurian Candidate?
“I think your nose will be just fine, considering you tripped and smashed your face on that rock,” Spain said looking in my eyes and checking if my hair was the correct length.
Victoire laid out some of my clothes on the bed. Spain was finished and I got back into the shower to wash off the stray hairs, those hairs which just seem to resist being brushed aside. I stood there a little more than just a moment. I thought about Steve Segal eating a Philly Cheesesteak while Vladimir Putin sucks his cock and upon coming up for air, Vladimir spoke with a lisp and a Russian accent. I was always sure that men who speak with lisps are broadcasting to other homosexuals that they are in estrus. Or at least they were up for whatever as long as he went down first.
There is a mirror in the shower. I can see Ireland shampooing my hair. I look at my broken nose remembering Sarah Cardenal breaking my nose WrestleMania-Style. In these memories, the ones I’m not talking about and my Flag Girls seem to be leading every conversation away from, I don’t think Elsa was there in the little house near the Ukrainian border, the locked hospital room, or the asylum that reeked of cheap cigarettes and rubbing alcohol. You know you have hit the skids when the place smells like a bar and looks like a hospital.
Natalya took care of the hair in between her teeth after taking care to get rid of the hair around my genitals. Until I arrived in St Petersburg, I thought chemical hair remover would burn the skin. I was wrong. I kept quiet so as not to be wrong about how my experience would be received…my girls said I was unconscious in the hospital for a month after a live grenade near took the life of France and I. Victoire and a couple of the other Flag Girls were bumped and bruised. It seems that one of the Russian men who was assumed into the Han Forces used his body as a shield…Diving onto the grenade just before it exploded. It was a heroic act. No one knew for sure who lobbed the grenade towards my party of observers or how they were able to bring a live grenade to an area designated for training, maneuvers, and war games.
I dressed or I was dressed by Spain and France while Victoire brought me some after shower espresso. I have some green tea as I awaken and by the time Spain, France, Victoire or a number of Flag Girls help me with sexual calisthenics I drink two pints of water and black coffee with ice or coffee with a bit of cream. I used to joke about how Jenifer Lopez had the perfect skin color to describe how the coffee should look when you add cream and now Jenifer Lopez brings the coffee since fortunately for me, she was in Moscow at a benefit concert just hours before the warheads detonated. I had her kidnapped and now she represents Cuba. Cuba is the only nation in the American continent to accept Han dominion when George W. Bush declared himself King Bush and cracked open a can of Busch beer to celebrate the executions of any political opponent. King Bush was the only thing keeping the Han Empire from taking the whole of Europe in on move, Now they are gone and I would like to say that this regime change destabilized the United States of America but it seems that the zombies and the ‘Zombie Protected Zone’ empowered and brought solidarity to all the nations of North and South America. And just yesterday, Jenifer Lopez became Cuba and began to wear a Red, White and Blue flag robe. Cuba dissolved its alliance with the Han Empire and although they are an independent nation, they are closely reliant on the United States of America. There is talk the Mexican Government will allow the zombies to expand the ‘Zombie Protected Zone’ into the northern Mexican deserts. Turning these border wastelands into paradise.
From what we hear about the ‘Zs’ borders, it sounds to many like this paradise is a prison. The fusion generators create a microwave that changes the brainwaves in normal humans for a wakeful state into a sleep state. But any human can approach the border and be guided across by Zombies…they just don’t want any surprise visitors.
The Emperor told me he has been kicking around the idea of doing something akin to what he did to Moscow to the ‘Z’, Some of his sources say to hit Los Angeles with ten missiles the same size as Moscow…others say San Francisco and still others point to Las Vegas. I told him if he did that to all the cities and Alamogordo, he might be able to stop some of these mindreading green giants.
Cuba sat next to me helping me get dressed.
“Alistair, honey, although I was born in New York…I’m Puerto Rican in heritage.” She pleaded with me.
“Mozambique is fair skinned and speaks limited English but mostly Russian and not a bit of Bantu or Portuguese and I don’t hear Natasha complaining. We could have left you in Moscow.” She looked at me and smiled.
“When you say it that way…After lunch, I want to show you how grateful I am.”
Her and Columbia met me for a nap after lunch where they reenacted their duet from just before the concert ended with a duet. Shakira and Jenifer Lopez were abducted not merely to save their lives but mostly for my enjoyment.
Shakira is a sight to behold by herself on the television but when you are ploughing her doggystyle, she is a whole other type of appreciation.
A voice in the back of my mind screamed; ‘And you wonder why you were abducted?’ And I knew the answer…
‘I was abducted because not only am I an asshole, I’m the governor of Western Russia and I am the voice of the enemy.’ Shakira and I cuddled after our post-lunch heterosexual wrestling match. I think she let me win. We lay in each other’s arms.
“Do you think Steven Segal and Vladimir Putin are homosexual lovers who enjoy a Philly Cheesesteak…”
“Grinders…” she said stroking my cock to ready me for another go.
“I had a dream…”
“So did Martin Luther King Jr.” she interrupted as she got on top. “Place your trust in us…that was a dream.”
Love, sex and greed are things Men can be manipulated with…easily. Why else would many of the World’s Religions ask their Clergy to be poor, celibate and obedient? Dating means the need for money for a dowry. Then a steady job to maintain a household for your family. Men and women raise children and work…this takes them away from their devotion to the Blessed Trinity or teaching meditation because the need to protect and provide for a family trumps the altruistic calling felt by many people.
I suspect that my Flag Girls are turning my loyalties away for my Emperor and the people of my adopted home, China. Turning my loyalties toward them and subsequently toward the American Agenda.
Columbia joined me for a swim after lunch. Most of my work was done by the time I came back to the palace for lunch. Victoire joined us in the pool.
“The Sun feels so good on my skin.” I approached her as she said this. I began to caress her legs and I could feel the warmth of the sun on her skin.
“Your hands feel nice, Alistair.”
She sat up and I sat down on the chaise lounge chair on her right side. We kissed a bit as I ran my hand up her thigh.
“Work is done for the day, Alistair?” She got up just after I touched her with my finger…she dove into the pool. I know I’m being manipulated. First by my Emperor, willingly and now by my Flag Girls who are now loyal to the Americans but I can’t prove anything. And everyone is following the same playbook…I was almost killed by a grenade thrown by a Russian…as an assassination attempt. I was pushed to the ground and shielded by a Han soldier and smashed my face on a rock. Much like a good Samaritan preforming CPR…the soldier who saved my life at the cost of my perfect nose. I should be grateful but I know this is a cover story.
When she got out of the pool, she walked back to me. I touched her thigh as she grabbed her towel. Her skin felt as though it was already dry after being out of the pool for a mere forty-five seconds. It’s not as if I had a stopwatch and timed her getting out of the pool. Her hair seemed to be dry as she pretended to towel it off. And she smelled like a flower, all the time. She got out of the pool and one would guess that the pool water would wash off the perfume…but she still smelled like fresh flowers. Daisies…Roses…Lavender…Jasmine…I think she smelt like jasmine. On a cool California night in June. The Jasmine bushes are blooming and its fragrance lingers in the air.
She always wore cloth bracelets; one reads the words and thinks about friendship bracelets kids exchange before saying goodbye to their summer camp friends who they rode horses with…and a little girl won a game of musical chairs with a horse. She won because she followed the rules.
But these bracelets were black lace and about an inch in width. They were very ribbon-like. I knew now, this very moment that they concealed Zombie Roses. Zombie Roses are half in flowers one each wrist of a Zombie that look like miniature poinsettia flowers but their gift isn’t something the Traditional Santa Klaus would give anyone. The seeds contain the ‘Zed’ virus. The Han spies had heard some rumors. The greatest rumor of all wasn’t the collective consciousness, it was that only those people who were Rh Negative blood become zombies the rest of humanity becomes shrubs. A Han spy described it as one moment a man was infected and within five minutes his bones were the trellis for blood red roses. He watched the man grow roots from his ankles anchoring him to the ground as he screamed in agony, he raised his hands toward me and the flesh withered away and his eyes were replaced by rosebuds…vines replaced veins. Drops of blood dripped off the petals. And there where a man once was now there was a rose bush growing in a skeleton. The heart lost its fire as the body withered away and the flesh was replaced by stems, leaves, and flower petals.
Victoire walked toward me. Death never looked so beautiful. These were the reports during the Zombie outbreak which brought an end to the fascism, George W…helped usher in with his coronation as King George the First of the Kingdom of America.
I am of course Rh Positive…
“No, you are not…” Victoire said smiling at me. “You are not in bloom…yet.” She said with a long pause. “You are Rh Negative, and you are one of us.” I looked at her and… “At any moment you expect me and some of the other staff to reenact the scene from the movie ‘Freaks’…one of us, one of us.” She chanted knowing my every thought.
Victoire pulled off my boardshorts. Most Europeans and Chinese were little tight Speedo swim shorts. Many of the readers are imagining that I am wearing Han red Speedo’s with the Five Star Emblem. But I wore black boardshorts like I was a careless American kid at a water park hoping any of the girls my age or older would have a wardrobe malfunction. But I was the Han Empire’s Governor of Western Russia and my number one girl is a Protohuman.
“In the UK they call us fags…referring to our woodesque nature. Stick and stones may break our bones but fire will consume the zombies.”
I lay back as she put my cock inside her and her mind inside my mind. I felt a lot of things one of them was the ‘Zombie Roses’ bloom on my wrists. Puerto Rico brought over some wrist sweatbands and put them on me while Victoire and I made love. The wristbands were Han Red with the 5 Star Emblem on the inside to cover up my ‘Zombie Roses’. It became clear where my loyalties lie.
“Victoire,” I began to ask…intending to ask about her relationship with Joe Woods.
“This, what you and I have here is more than business and less than love.” She began to explain vocally. “I came here with the intention to kill you, not recruit you…and so now you see I have recruited you, Alistair, because I know there is hope for you and the people of the Han Empire. We…the Protos, all humanity, all of life must unite to defeat fascism. The people of the ‘Z’ wanted you to disappear and the US government wanted to make an example of you…a very small minority of ‘Zeds’ and our ‘Ghosts’ think you are the person to change the heart of the Empire. You are not an automaton. You still have free will. Now you have a vast consciousness to help you make decisions and to share your experiences with…
“I hope we are not wrong. The ‘Zombie Roses’ are a weapon for life and death.” We finished or at least I finished…as a man most men see all of sex and lovemaking to only concern them sowing the seed, not making the woman satisfied and enjoy what just happened. We walked inside Cuba helped us with our clothes. My black boardshorts and Victoire’s Han red robe. I was unsure what to do or think and so Victoire took my hand as we walked back into the palace. Many of the staff’s black cloth wristbands were replaced with Han red Wrist Sweatbands with the Han 5-star emblem on the inside of the wrist. This was done in solidarity with my becoming a ‘Zed’. In the hopes that no one ever needed to die in the name of Empire building, again. Fascism has no place in human society.
I sat at a desk inside a library in the palace thinking what makes the ‘Z’, the United States of America, and these Protohumans…what gives them the right to enforce global morality. What makes these people so special? No sooner than this thought was complete that my mind was flooded with answers and many of the answers concerned the right to vote and have a voice in the governing of me, my neighbors and fellow citizens. This is something of a rarity in our world. Equality, Confraternity, and Freedom of Speech and Religion. Emperor Hui Liu was the voice of God and his advisors were what remained of the Communist Party…Now, these people had taken places among the Armed Forces and no one was in opposition to the vision of the future our Glorious Emperor had. If they wanted something different for the Han Empire or China then they are our enemy. The rest of the day was spent cuddling with Argentina and since Columbia had signed a peace accord with the Han Empire…I began to call Shakira by her name. It wouldn’t matter many of these girls know the deal that our lives rest in how I manage the relations with the Han Empire and this part of Western Russia. And now since I have become infected by Victoire, I have no doubts as to that true freedom lies in the West and what is at stake if the Han Empire enslaves the world.
Shakira came into my office. Victoire and I were talking…using our mouths and discussing that not everything I think is hive knowledge. And speaking normally is better. The ‘Zed’ agenda is not to infect the whole world and create mindless slaves that would be no better than what Emperor Liu Hui is doing. We are not even trying to infect or recruit all RH negative humans. We are trying to at most infect one percent of this population, ensure democracy, and win the hearts of all the humans. We aren’t trying to control, only guide things in a more Just way. Victoire got up and left.
Shakira sat the tray of food and a tub to soak my feet into.
“The not sleeping thing is something no one gets used to. Until we are back in the ‘Z’ or the other ‘Zeds’ infiltrate this part of Russia and set up gravity generators, our new biology won’t allow us to sleep. But if uninfected humans are exposed to the waves of the gravity generators, they will fall asleep uncontrollably. It reminds of that movie ‘Dark City’ and that Beastie Boys song… ‘No sleep till Brooklyn…’ It’s funny that until was once shortened to ’til and because of all the misspellings, the Oxford Dictionary changed the spelling to till.” As she spoke, she wrote the words Until, ’til, and till on a piece of paper to illustrate her point.
“Sometimes colloquial language shapes the rules of language. Much like what is happening now. The common people with their voices, votes, and sometimes violence will shape the rhetoric of the rulers.”
The other staff had no idea that I had become a zombie or that some of my staff had been recruited by the ‘Zeds’ who were loyal to maintaining certain freedoms that many governments wished to take care of…this fascism would not be tolerated by any government. And now I understood the motivations of the ‘Zeds’. I understand it is about certain freedoms one of which is popular governance.
Proto-women can become impregnated but embryos who are RH positive are absorbed into the mother’s body. I bet you are thinking of the remake of ‘Dawn of the Dead’ with Ving Rhames and the pregnant women who give birth to an undead type zombie…you would be wrong. Joe Woods only called himself a zombie for a few reasons none of which have anything to do with being dead. Joe Woods realized very soon that he was a kind of slave to the Military Scientists and power structure. But calling oneself a slave is insulting and engrains the idea that our new species can achieve freedom. But he had two masters…the American Military and the Hive consciousness that began to manifest in the gnats, mosquitos and other animals that were infected. The infection is spread among the Rh-negative humans and many animals don’t have the Rhesus protein so they can be infected as well. Each animal has a certain amount of brain compacity and this is shared among the infected. Like uploading your files to a server. You have memory or consciousness within your own mind but you can access the minds of other infected and use their experiences or what makes each mind unique to solve each situation. The infected are like a horde but each ‘Zed’ still retains their free will. But when the knowledge is disseminated, the horde act in the best interest to save humanity and preserve free will.
Meditation is the only way to relax when we cannot sleep. Victoire began to teach me meditation but looked at me and realized that this was like teaching Einstein how to read the Periodic Table of Elements. I spent a lot of time in Shao Lin. Sitting meditation…
Martial arts with an opponent or exercising with punching bags or wing chun while listening to Wang Chung cleared my mind so much so that I could see Joe Woods, Serena, and Xander Weiss as they spoke about Space/Time.
“…in short the Higgs boson field is Space/Time. It is not a separate field within Space/Time. Every particle has a density and an attraction. Space/Time is like a jello mold with bits of fruit or tennis balls inside. This is only a visual that may help you.” Xander continued. Matter, even at the moment of the big bang wasn’t uniformly spread apart. Space/Time is folded by the mass of the matter and matter of a certain distance will be attracted to the larger mass and on combining will fold Space/Time more. The folding is what we call gravity. Gravity is a property of Space/Time…it is an interaction between matter and Space/Time.”
At that moment I could feel Joe Woods’ loneliness. He was listening to Xander Weiss explain kindergarten Quantum Physics to the Segovia brothers. There is something special about some of the people in that area. They are not ‘Zed’…I cannot hear their minds only because they are telling me that… “No ‘Zeds’ allowed…” But they know me…
I was working on the wing chun when one of them appeared to me.
“I’m David Estrada and I created much of this quandary you found yourself in. But you didn’t find yourself here by accident but that we Ghosts had a plan that involves you.” He appeared to be a less than average man.
Short brown hair…
Black squarish framed eyeglasses…
Light skin but not pale…
Clean shaven face…
About five foot eight inches tall…
Chubby but not obese…
Black Doc Martin’s boots…
Black Dickie Pants…
White button-down shirt…
Narrow black tie…
Black tie clip…
Black leather racer jacket…
I wanted to say something about his fashion or that he appeared in the Czar’s Winter Palace gym just moments after seeing him in my mind. I knew he was in the ‘Z’ and now here he was…and then his face lit up.
“Ghost Rider…?” I didn’t know what to say… “I’m a huge fan.”
“That’s what everyone says…” His skull began to speak very matter of fact…very nonchalant…like we were in a fifty’s diner scene of a Ghost Rider comic book. “I wrote a book about Space/Time machines. I sent it back to myself. I built a prototype gravity generator and just like every great story an accident happened and my son became the first ‘Ghost’…as far as we know, we are the Aztec, Mayan…Mesoamerican Gods…but the others much like myself believe that we are not God…as in the Blessed Trinity but another creation much less important. So, we call ourselves ‘Ghosts’. I’m Tezcatlipoca, the smoking mirror. I’m the clone of the real David Estrada…”
“Oh…” I said. And I put out my hand. “I’m Alistair Rhys Chapman…” The flames didn’t burn as I grasped his boney hand. The flames didn’t burn the way you would think. His flames transmitted emotion. If he wanted to show compassion, comfort, and even punishment the flames consumed. I felt reassured. Like a hug from my mom just before she sent me to Alaska. And now I understood why I was tortured and abducted not merely infected by Victoire. Before I knew it, the flames had consumed my whole body and I dropped to my knees.
“Sometimes,” Ghost Rider began to say… “I burn the souls of the unrepentant. Like their sins are a wound and I pour salt in the wounds. And other time I offer relief and encouragement to continue to struggle against the darkness in our own souls. In this way, I am a servant of the Blessed Trinity.”
I felt his faith in what we call God…
I felt his encouragement to see this through until the end…
Ghost Rider backed away turning into David Estrada and then he disappeared. We no great flash or bang. Just an air of stillness and a silence was left in the wake of his ghostly vanishing.
I continued to beat on the wing chun listening to most deplorable Eighties music. Some of the monks at Shao Lin had a penchant for Eighties music.
First, during the Spanish Conquest of the Americas, Churches were built on top of the Mayan, Olmec, and Aztec pyramids and now Tezcatlipoca is Roman Catholic…
It seems like I was drafted into the Flower Corps…and I wondered if I smelled like a corpse flower…then an epiphanal cry rang out in the ‘Zed’ consciousness. I need to attract more members perhaps in a way like a corpse flower attracts carrion beetles. I must find an unusual way to get normal humans even the uninfected Han forces to help bring Liberty to China.
Beginning to plan and being a ‘Zed’ meant that I wouldn’t sleep either way.
And the days would pass…
And the nights would pass…
And I would work. Normal humans go psycho if they don’t sleep but many of my fellow protohumans say that a clear mind never was never far away. I agreed. When my mind screamed for rest, I hung the vacant sign and began to meditate. And my Flag Girls and I spent our nights and days in an embrace and putting our ideas on paper and a plan began to come together.
One day I received a strange gift.
But the plan was set. The best way to liberate China was to build a full-size Statue of Liberty in secret and have the ghosts bring it to China. That would be our diversion. The plan was to infect the non-Han looking members of the Han espionage program. Slowly this would take the fascism out of China.
I sat on my bed…on the nightstand was a note. Next to the nightstand was a three-foot cube wrapped in zombie Christmas present wrapping.
“Alistair,” the note began. “this is a gift to make your conversion easier. Not sleeping doesn’t bother most of us…we begin to lose our ties with the rest of humanity. If the human staff were to find out that some of the ‘Girls’, other staff, and yourself don’t sleep they may become suspicious and the Han may begin to experiment on the ‘Zed’ population.
Only turn this on just before midnight when the normal humans are out of the palace. There is a network of lead-lined walls, doors, and roof. As you start the gravity generator the correct doors will close and lock. This will shield the outside from the effects of the gravity generator’s field. Plug in the generator and this will create energy…the gravity generator will send power into the grid much like solar panels on a home.”
It wasn’t signed but I knew it was David Estrada…
It came with a map of the Winter Palace. Floor plans and schematics displaying what part of the palace were shielded so that part of the palace was Dreamland for the new ‘Zed’ population. This is the way they had been doing things in the ‘Z’. the human homes were shielded and the Gravity Generators were turned on at midnight for six hours. The other ‘Zeds’ and Ghosts had been tinkering with the Generators so that human exposure was less serious. Now after…well, the ‘Ghosts’ have time travel and they could have been working on it for far longer than they would let on…
Humans exposed to the effects of the Gravity Generators would now sleep eight hours after initial exposure. If a human was out after curfew at midnight the exposed human would wake up normally at eight o’clock in the morning. And the range was still about 2 miles radius so the ‘Zeds’ in the ‘ZPZ’ were encouraged to live closer to the Generators…shielding in the homes was a precaution. And ‘Zed’ rights advocates felt that this was creating a ‘Ghetto’ system for their fellow ‘Zeds’ until they realized that everyone was benefitting from their presence and how many of these ‘Zed’ housing projects there were…
The protos lived along the borders of the ‘ZPZ’, on the outskirts of the major cities and this was creating a paradise where there were once arid deserts now these small towns were in the middle of a forest…
The Protos and the US Government tried to keep some of the deserts as they were to preserve the natural beauty but in other places, the ‘Zeds’ were aiding in the feeding of a nation and cooling of the planet.
It was a balance. You can’t go camping in every part of the desert and the parts that off-road enthusiasts relished was still there just the way they liked it…but all the parts of the land that were unnoticed, uncherished, and unused became meadowlands, farmlands or a resurrected Salton Sea…
I think, soon, the ‘Zeds’ are going to put something in the oceans that will help solve the plastic in the Pacific problem. They thought of an enzyme to breakdown the plastic but then this would create oil slicks as some plastics are made of natural gas and refined oil. Some plastic is made of plant material so an enzyme could be helpful with that…leaving the plastic made of oil and natural gas behind. This was a start…
All this ran through my mind and the other ‘Zed’ Staff began to organize themselves moving rooms with the non-proto Han forces…there was a cube shape of shielded rooms and hallways when all the outer doors were closed it became a lead shielded area where the ‘Zeds’ among us could sleep the night away.
Some of these doors would close on their own once I set the Gravity Generator up. Unlike the generators of the past, it was a self-cleaning once the hydrogen or other gas in the surrounding air was let into the box that housed the event horizon or mini blackhole the process to reach potassium took six hours and the generator shut itself off and the potassium was placed in a bag and the maid or someone would mix it with some potash and fertilize the garden.
I think of all the good things that can be done with fertilizer and the evil White Supremacists do with anything they can get their hands on. The evil men can do perverting Islam and making Adolf Hitler a Prophet of Jesus Christ…
The consensus among the ‘Zeds’ of St Petersburg is the gift from David Estrada was more precious than Faberge Eggs…sleep deprivation wasn’t driving us crazy. It is the boredom of being awake when most of the world was asleep. I found the Gundam Wing model and I built it in one night. I found other models and the sex games with the other ‘Zeds’…I began to make models or puzzles from prints of the priceless paintings. In the day I took care of the affairs of the Han Empire in Western Russia and in the night in secret I created art or found ways to make the infrastructure of Western Russia run far quickly. Before turning on the Gravity Generator I thought a million things…
As a kid, my mom would tell me a story about my Grandma…My Grandma was a teenager, having her first birthday party with boys and girls. A young potential suitor gave my Grandma so Rosewater Perfume…and I think about the moral.
No matter what you give to certain people: you cannot buy someone’s affection. And I had developing feelings for Victoire.
She loves Joes Woods and her touching me was to seduce me so that I could be manipulated and join the ‘American Zed’ project. No matter how much I try to improve the Han treatment of the Russians or improving the plan to liberate the people of the Han Empire.
The Author sits at his desk typing on his laptop. He wonders if writing books in an attempt to court a woman…overcome an obstacle of extortion and hate crimes, will she give me her heart after realizing that these words are what my heart is. Not a picture but my very real heart. Like as a Roman Catholic, I was taught that the communion bread is very really a miracle created by the priest at Mass…it isn’t bread or wine it is the Body and Blood of Christ. And these words are the beating of my heart. If only I was so honored to create a miracle…some children are miracles and cherished by their community. Then there are the exploited, who was born to be broken because their family is so selfish, they neglect their children at best and at worst these animals sell their kids into prostitution for an ounce of heroin…
The author just wants to find his own heroine. Sometimes, I think that the Princess saved the Knight in Shining armor from wondering endlessly waiting for someone to put his specific skillset to proper use.
Now, it’s midnight and I press the start button of the Gravity Generator. The lights flicker a bit. Doors in the Winter Palace began to close, loudly. Not exactly slamming but forceful enough to make a sound. And then I felt it. In this windowless room part of the Winter Palace that was lead shielded so that ‘non-zeds’ would not suffer the effects of the Gravity Generator’s strange brainwave altering field…and not become suspicious that the ‘Zeds’ have come marching in…
Aladdin was a street urchin before Jasmine gave him the inspiration to find the ambition that lays within each mate to create a life, less brutal than the one, they find themselves following. A thief who wants to improve the life of a princess…who saved whom?
I fell asleep. I watched an American movie; ‘Dark City’. And my eyes grew heavy as Jennifer Connelly began to sway. I dreamt of Gravity Generator Schematics, a land in eternal twilight, shape-shifting animals being feed by Aztec Gods…and Teteo Innan kissing Tezcatlipoca. They looked to the sky and I knew that this place was in the constellation named for a lyre and Earth was in an unnamed constellation that humans cannot see.
This planet was not festering as one might think if a planet was populated by the children of the lesser gods might be. Whether they called themselves gods or ghosts or which pantheon they found themselves in they were a human creation that cared for humanity and their children equally. I had more questions than answers upon waking up I found plans for other Gravity Generators and the modifications to alter their uses. A plan for a McGill device was on top. Next was a Gravity Engine and lastly the Gravity Generator itself. The McGill device could be made handheld and with a two-foot blast area.
I examined the schematics carefully…they came with a cautionary note.
I was six in the morning in the first week of September.
I got out of bed, alone for the first time since arriving in St Petersburg. Victoire came into the room and laid out my clothes. I knew that she loved Joe Woods as much as she loved serving humanity. They both felt a sense of duty to guide humanity to Liberty or Liberation. One idea from the Eastern Thought and the other from Western Thought. Liberation from Suffering and Liberty from Tyranny and it seemed that both could be solved with faith in something greater than oneself and the effort to stay the course to justice and a more humane world for humanity.
I knew that if I wanted her, her skin would caress mine but her heart belonged to Zombie Joe…and so Columbia brought me some green tea and climbed into bed with me. Victoire place my clothes on a hanger near the bathroom door. She placed some gym clothes and swim trunks at the foot of the bed. Cuba, Columbia and I would go for a run and a swim before a shower and breakfast. I could no longer touch Victoire and not feel guilt knowing what kind of ‘Zed’, Joe Woods was…and so in a way I fell in love with both of them.
No matter how hard I ran…I couldn’t run from my feelings. And my running mates kept me chasing and we swam and showered. The water was absorbed on my skin reminded me of watching Victoire pretend to towel herself dry so that I would not suspect her link to the ‘Protohumans’…
I began to study the schematics for the Gravity based devices and found that I could implement some of them to improve the lives of those living under Han rule and plan to bring Liberty to the Han Empire much like David Copperfield-esque magical pageantry. As the magic unfolds before your eyes, my assistant and I will distract you. There are so many fireworks that you fail to notice the fuse to the bomb under your bleachers.
In October will mark the fifty-fifth anniversary of the Cuban Missile Crisis. And the Ghosts plan to confuse, dismay, and shatter the Han Empire into a million little pieces will unravel. It will unravel so quickly that the Emperor and all Emperor’s men could not put the Empire back together again.
In Beijing near the Forbidden City, is lake Qianhai and Beihai park…this is where an equal sized Statue of Liberty will be placed. Time travel is a funny thing and we cannot place Lady Liberty far in the past…and so October sixteenth will be the appearance of Our Lady of Liberty in China and the disappearance of the Han Empire. Approximately, three percent of the Uygur population has RH negative blood. And the total percentage for the Han is one percent…these are small enough numbers to go unnoticed and large enough to change the course of history.
I began to work on a plan to raise money. I sat in the study soaking my feet drinking scotch and water…and a pint of water. All the beautiful things they are doing in Irving Texas and with a little inspiration I could do something great. The rumbling of a garbage truck as I was looking through the plans for the gravity generator.
If I changed a couple of settings, I could compress carbon into diamonds and like an alchemist, I could create gold from lead…or gold, diamonds, and other precious materials from the trash inside the event horizon of the gravity generators.
A couple of my ‘Zed’ staff who could be spared without drawing any attention by working in secret were drafted to build Gravity Generators to tackle the trash problem.
Gold, platinum, and diamonds are more than just the stuff of jewelry these substances can be used in electronics and building materials. The Carbon in the garbage could be compressed enough to create diamonds and carbon fiber for building materials and tactical armor. Why would we need lead for bullets if I could make titanium, gold, tungsten, copper or platinum from the garbage and the air in the room? But if lead is needed it is just a setting on a touchscreen periodic table of elements. Anything heavier than carbon requires the addition of garbage. Carbon is such a strange thing. This machine…this augmented gravity generator hooked to a laptop may create more than elements. Substances and the shape using the right density and time settings I can create sugar and salt. Gold ingots, platinum bullets, and carbon fiber plates for the tactical armor. Sometimes romance is a tactical exercise…sometimes I think the game is a futile one…it seems that I’m never the right person…whether I’m human and vulnerable or a ‘Zed’ and the ‘Zed’ is already dead so what’s to lose.
These new augmented gravity generators would be shielded in garbage processing plants. I built lead walls into the existing garbage plants and when everything came on the grid, I was able to sell the gold and other materials to build more generators to process the garbage…the ‘Zeds’ began to produce ammunition and armor.
Once the simple things were produced, we began to make electronics and began to flood the market with diamonds. Some of the ‘Zeds’ began to work in a lead shielded room to create the electronics being guided by counterparts in the ‘ZPZ’. Many of the diamonds, weapons, and electronics were sent to parts of the Han Empire where ‘Zeds’ did not need to encourage a revolution. And then we began on the piece de resistance…a golden Statue of Liberty appearing in the Forbidden City and an Emperor Lui Hui infected and dissolving the Empire in favor of a Parliamentary system.
Hui Liu would be one of the few exceptions…if he is Rh negative, he will be drafted or he will be taken away in handcuffs. Some of the other ‘Zeds’ think if he became a shrub it will be a public relations fiasco for not only the ‘Z’ but the United States of America in general and instead of dissolving the Han Empire, the people will just replace Hui Liu with another myopic tyrant who would be lampooned in the media but still in power and still very much a threat to the freedom many of us think we have.
It was October, I was touring one of the underground electronics factories. A complex of warehouses that were lead-shielded. A voice began to speak from behind me.
“The Ghosts…” a voice of a child began to speak. “The Ghosts have many things in common. I want to tell you a story, Alistair. I just received the Sacrament of the Holy Eucharist; I am the youngest. Although, Kristina and I are twins. I was born second. Sandy, is adopted and almost the same age but even as a kid I felt like she was more mature…and I found out why we adopted a girl whose biological family named her Watermelon. It made sense. And so, we all made our sacraments together…and for a little present our Mom bought us a Rosary and a guide book. It seems macabre but she told us the story about Ted Bundy being scared off by a mysterious force. Although he killed once more, one night in a sorority house two college students were killed and a young woman promised her mother and grandmother to pray the rosary. For whatever reason…Ted Bundy couldn’t kill the woman who had prayed the rosary before going to sleep. This was a mysterious force by any definition. This reason why Bundy didn’t kill is as mysterious as knowing the mind of the Blessed Trinity. Today, in California, Catholic Confession’s confidentiality was outlawed…
“I didn’t come all this way to talk to you about being Catholic…I’m George-Jesus Estrada or Quetzalcoatl…” he said as he transformed into the Aztec God. “All the Aztec Ghosts are devout Catholic Christians who made the same promise before being enlisted in the United States Military. They were old enough that they had served in the United States Military, the Kingdom of America Military, and then again in the United States Military…sometimes loyalty is a strange thing. Like the question do we support War or the Soldier? Viet Nam veterans who are spat upon won’t change foreign policy. But is supporting war efforts blindly thinking that every War fought by the United States of America is a justified War, the right course of action? Veterans return from unpopular and unjust wars broken people…they need a hug and a pint…Thank you for coming home alive. Maybe a bit of diplomacy would avoid the death of any American and the soldiers who come home alive need oral sex, and a Starbucks lady following them home. But this was a coincidence…being a soldier, being Catholic and praying the Rosary. I wasn’t chosen. Wait, my dad made this gravity generator and tricked himself into running the prototype that created me…the first of the Aztec Ghost. None of us can stand to call ourselves ‘gods’ and so Ghosts seems more fitting. I’m certain that my belief in the Blessed Trinity isn’t unfounded. There is something mysterious…in doubt one can find belief. The most ardent atheist who would try to prove the nonexistence of God would find belief…belief doesn’t require physical evidence if you can believe or put your faith in something that isn’t easily explainable…you don’t need to know anything to believe.”
George-Jesus stood there in the shielded factory speaking to me. The other infected stopped working on electronics, assault rifles or armor plating to be sent to other infected within and without the Han Empire. November Eleventh, we attack and shatter the Han Empire into a thousand provinces and countries governed by the common people…some people call them Folk.
George-Jesus gave me a piece of paper to consider as an engraving on the Statue’s plaque.
Victoire, Cuba, Columbia, and Italy among other Flag Girls walked through the warehouse in black combat fatigues with their hair in buns and knock off Glock G22, a forty caliber police service pistol. These were one of the products being produced in St Petersburg by the infected who are believed to be loyal to the Han Empire. Gold was being produced in a nearby warehouse to be used to make the Golden Lady Liberty…
The inscription would read…
’The Mandate of Heaven: The Right of Rule given to the Emperor by Heaven. And the Right of Rebellion given to the People of ‘Our Land’…by the same Mandate of Heaven.’
Invading rebels would enlist others to help and create a Constitutional Monarchy with a parliamentary system that would represent all the provinces of China and reunite Taiwan…possibly restoring the rightful heir to the throne of China.
And it seemed that right now my knockout girl had a knockoff Glock in her holster. Although my heart belonged to her, her heart belonged to Joe Woods and they knew my feelings…
It would be a plan that would take a week to unfold. Today is Halloween. November Third is the day after Día de Los Muertos and the first day of the seven-day insurrection in Beijing. Today will require some of the infected forces to move into Beijing as tourists from other provinces, other parts of the Han Empire and Americans or Europeans seeking to defect feeling that the United States and their allies could never stop the Han Empires impending invasion.
November Third, 2017 begins the destruction of the Han Empire not with a bang or a battle cry but ‘passport please and welcome to Beijing the home of our Emperor and Heart of the Han Empire’…that’s how Liberty came to the People of the Han Empire. November Fourth, 2017 as the Sun rose in the East, like a magic trick from a CBS special broadcast, A golden three hundred five-foot Statue of Liberty appeared on an island in the lake behind the Forbidden City.
A reporter for Han News stated that this appeared out of nowhere. Everything seemed to be going as planned. Cue city and (hopefully) Empire-wide riots and rebellion. And so, by noon that same day riots began.
David Estrada explained to me that going back in time will not stop what is happening now. There are so many forces in the past and present that the Han Empire and the People’s Republic of China will happen no matter what we do in the past…It would be a fool’s errand to think one or two things changing would change everything.
I could not imagine nor could any of the infected imagine the events of November Fifth, 2017. There was so much rioting that the Emperor was taken by the hordes into custody. Hui Liu could not escape. I, Alistair Rhys Chapman, was never privy to any proposal so ghastly as what calamity is taking place at noon, today, November Fifth, 2017. The moment Liu Hui was taken hostage five ICBMs holding one hundred megaton thermonuclear devices were launched from missile silos in Yunnan aimed at Beijing.
A new Emperor came on Han television telling the audience that Liu Hui abdicated the Han Empire to his control. He broadcast from Tokyo and gave the broadcast back to Han telecasters in Beijing only minutes before the thermonuclear devices went off above crowds that believed Liberty was theirs.
The new Emperor came on television at eleven fifteen, speaking to an empire that believed it was watching freedom from fascism only to be witness to the murder of about twenty-three million people including the infected who came to Beijing to foster the fight for self-determination.
God’s plans don’t go as he wants because of the free will of humans. How could the ‘Zeds’, the protos of the ‘ZPZ’ and all the infected sharing their will and knowledge think anything would be different for us. Now the Han had reconquered the Chinese people…a dozen men at most had set the murder of twenty-three million citizens into motion. Not wanted to concede surrender the Han empire cut off its nose to spite its face. Revenge against a rebellion murdered twenty-three million people…
If the emperor would have given into the creation of a more democratic system, at some time in the future they could have more peacefully reigned back control and reestablished the Han Empire. Yet now, the Han government was the enemy of the people. The government used thermonuclear weapons against its own people. So, the idea that people may have felt in East Germany when the Berlin Wall went up…the idea that now the Han people felt that ‘Our Land’ was transformed into ‘Our Prison’.
Emperor Wu Gang assumed control. I felt that this great war could have been won on what was once Armistice Day, November 11, 2017, the 99th anniversary of the End of World War One. But since it had become Veteran’s Day in the United States of America the solemnity of the Spirit to end War was replaced with the idea that we are just waiting for the next war. This idea that we are powerless to end the military industrial complex and technological advances are only made because of advances in military technology. Defense of one’s nation and the nation of our allies is an admirable cause to fight but Empire Building? Does the United States need to engage in such activities when our Freedom is not under attack?
I know of Emperor Wu. I have spoken to him in passing. I don’t think the Han Empire Communist Party suspects my involvement. I wait for a voice in the heavens in the cloud of ‘Zed’ consciousness to confirm or deny my assumptions.
In the haze, I only hear the same question: “Does the HCP suspect ZPZ’s involvement?”. There is no answer only the overwhelming feeling of dread.
I went for a run through St Petersburg. The Philippines, Indonesia, and India surrendered shortly after Emperor Wu Gang razed Beijing and the only thing left was the golden Statue of Liberty whose appearance urged the people of Beijing that Freedom was one rebellion away. Natalia once represented India. She ran beside me.
I stopped to watch a television display in an electronics store. For a moment there was an advertisement for ‘the rise and fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars’. In the corner of my eye, there was Ziggy Stardust. But I turned and he was gone. I got on with my run. Natalia trailed me as I ran away from the storefront with the television displays.
“Ometecuhtli…” a man said who appeared running next to me. He looked like a David Bowie look alike. “Ziggy Stardust, David Bowie based his character on me, Ometecuhtli, I’m an Aztec creator god. The others call themselves ghosts for good reason. I, too, am a ghost. I was at a David Bowie Concert November Eleventh, 1972 Dallas, Texas. One moment I was in the crowd and the next I was in a desert and it seemed to be eternal twilight. I was all glammed up with a holy Rosary in my pocket. Having no other options, I sat in the dirt and began…
‘Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name…’
Food and drink appeared before the physical need arose.
I stopped running so that I could look at Ziggy Stardust. As I turned, his appearance changed so that his style fits with November 12th, 2017. It was only days since Emperor Wu assumed control of the Han Empire. Korea had been united and annexed by China a few years back. Taiwan would be a good province for the new Emperor to hide in but since he appeared on television in Tokyo, his location was unknown even to the Han governors.
“I was infected but it seems strange to think becoming something that the Aztec, Maya and many pre-monotheistic people would confuse with divinity. I wasn’t made of egg whites, corn syrup, sugar, and brown sugar…I was human until Metztli, Sandra Estrada asked that I accept a gift. She explained that the Aztecs and Maya saw her as a god of the moon…the Rabbit. The Ghost project at Area 51 in the near future took the names of the Aztec Gods. But they were known to other people in prehistory…I was picked because I had a rosary and I was at the Ziggy Stardust concert. Ometecuhtli, the two lord…an androgynous god. And to me, it seemed wrong to say I were a god. I had powers. Some might call them super or even mysterious but saying I am a god seemed to spit in the face of all my beliefs. But by accepting a mysterious gift, I could help a great many people. My task was to hang out on this planet, tend to the children of the Ghosts, and wait for the end of Space/Time to come along.”
“Why are you here on Earth?” I asked Ometecuhtli. “What was the name your parents gave you before you became the steward of the end of the universe?”
“How rude…my name is James Jesus Aycock…some of my family are Texas non-Hispanics. I’m not so dark to be ashamed of myself but some people tried to teach me to be ashamed of the Rodriguez’ my mom’s family. Peter Aycock was my dad in name only. My mom’s story is much like La Llorona’s which was a take on the myth of Jason and Medea…I have had a long time to think and read on the planet where the end of Space/Time takes place. Do you know about the door and the clock at 9:07? My mom didn’t kill her children but my Dad promised her the world but his family would not approve of his spic family. I thought it was funny and appropriate my Aztec name and a game my friends used to play… ‘Oh meet Chuy…O mete Chuhtli’…” J. Jesus Aycock said as we faced each other as Natalia stood close enough to hear what we were talking about but far enough away so that she gave the impression of giving us our privacy. J. Jesus Aycock looked like a Mexican emo kid…like he listened to too much AFI and wore just enough makeup so to give the impression of being gender fluid…just another version of something they did in the past…Androgyny. Just now with black clothes and makeup.
“David Estrada said there would only be nine Aztec Ghosts. But in their mythology, there are nine gods above and twenty-two below. But what’s in a name…David Estrada or Knull…to me that guy’s a Zero to me. Metztli asked me to care for the symbiotes…to take care of the children of the lesser gods. Chick looks like a playboy bunny and all some people can think about is poor Lenny being killed by George instead of going to see the rabbits. And I would watch the sky as the clones of David Estrada tore Time/Space a new one instead of being guided by the Aztec Ghosts…I was created and I knew how Time/Space ended and the end was necessary for the Ghost doorway. 9:07 am was just a second before yet there are so many people using that door…I went to the end of Space/Time so that I could understand what was going on…” Chuy said in the November rain of St Petersburg’s afternoon to the Governor of Western Russia who was also responsible for the death of the population of Beijing in a failed coup de tat trying to bring liberty to the people of the Han Empire.
This David Estrada must be a real cunt…an Aztec Ghost who is both Ghost Rider and Knull of the planet of symbiotes. Where is a planet that has no name? I don’t think we have named all the planets.
“The planet at the End of Space/Time maybe be nameless but it is in the constellation of Lyra. On my next vacation, I’m going to kidnap Al Gore, Sandra Estrada gave me this wacky to do list.” I watched Chuy wearing all black like an Emo-Mexican his style was updated to the year two thousand seven.
“I’m more Punk Rock…I can hear your inner monologue in my head. Ghost Rider is one of David Estrada’s clones who became part of the Ghost Project. Tezcatlipoca is not the same as Tlaloc or Knull. David falls in the abyss of despair and Infects himself to become an Aztec ghost and then retreats to the distant past. What some people see as the abyss and what others attribute to a forge is Tlaloc’s use of technology. Ancient witnesses could not describe easily the work of scientists. Science became magic and metal work to describe organic chemistry and the use of a gravity generator to create a miniature black hole. A black hole or abyss where the symbiotic retrovirus undergoes eons of evolution in a couple of days…in the black hole created by a gravity generator. Metztli, Teteo Innan gave me books to read and I get some time off.” Chuy says.
I think I know a thing or two about Aztec mythology having several weeks to research this subject.
“Coatlicue and Teteo Innan are not the same person. They get pissed screaming some shit about ‘you men’ think all women are the same and how can there be only one Mother Goddess? Like men who are spurned by women, these men say ‘all women are the same’…” J. Jesus Aycock pulls his hoodie over his head as disappears into the St Petersburg crowds on this rainy November morning.
Natalia and I walked back to the Winter Palace holding hands.
“I hate Guns and Roses…It’s not that they are talentless. They were too much…they were like the Waffle House of music. There was so much exposure that everyone was familiar with them but ‘Appetite for Destruction’ and ‘the Spaghetti incident’ but everything else was tasteless. November Rain…”
Natalia looked at me like I murdered her childhood…
“Alistair you have shitty taste in music…” She said as we got to a park bench. She is one of the infected. She enjoyed being near me and our parts fit in all the right places. We kissed to take our minds off the monumental failure that was…golden Lady Liberty and Nationalism gone psycho is the American Golden Calf.
“Do you think the Ghosts will help me?” I ask her as I come up for air. She loosens my pants as we sit on the park bench.
“I think all this information is the Ghosts’ way of helping us.” Natalia says as she mounts me on the park bench. We make love in a park in St Petersburg. We are far enough away from the main road that passersby…well, there is no one to see what we are doing. I thought it was strange that she went running dressed in a tennis skirt with no leggings underneath.
I heard once that Tom Lieber rides his bicycle next to the riverbed in Anaheim, California…some summer mornings. When June gloom keeps the sky cloudy most of the day. In Bellingham, Washington there might be a summer storm to make anyone shudder and turn on AFI…and think of thunderstorms in the deserts of New Mexico near Gallup…the rain and humidity on a summer cross country road trip. Having a banana split with your mom at a Denny’s near the Motel 6 or some other chain travel motel…walking back to the room you shared with your nephew and mom…on that memorable trip. And thoughts drift to the memorable trip called our lives.
So far into the park that as the sunset Natalia and I became more adventurous with our lovemaking…believing we were not being watched. Other ‘Zeds’ were getting a kick from hijacking our senses as they wondered why the Governor and his special assistant were out on a morning run that lasted until well after the Sun had gone down.
Upon returning to the palace and waiting for midnight for the automatic activation of the Gravity generator to allow some of the infect to sleep. I knew what I could do with the Gravity Generators fearing the use of the McGill device would just mean that a new Han Emperor would be appointed but I don’t know where Emperor Wu Gang is…
I can use the Gravity Generator to destroy the Han nuclear arsenal much like Superman in his Quest for Peace…
I sat in a library area outside the section of the Winter Palace that was automated to lockdown so that the infected could have natural sleep. It was dark in the room except for the reading lamp above my head. There was a black mist or cloud in the darkened corner of the room. I could feel the dampness and the cold from this shapeless figure. And from time to time you could hear a thunderclap and a miniature lightning bolt illuminated the shifting black cloud. And out of the cloud stepped another David Estrada. This is Tlaloc…
“I won’t tell you when I decided to go against my own orders and take on the burden of being one of the Aztec Ghosts but my wife doesn’t know. I left my dearest Rainbeau out of the loop when it came to infecting myself because of the guilt I feel for exposing my son George Jesus to this…turning my son into Quetzalcoatl. It would have destroyed me like survivor’s guilt when a husband who smokes and his wife or children get lung cancer from secondhand smoke. Did you meet him, Ometecuhtli? A few days before George Jesus…” I spoke with a man who is out of shape, to say the least, who when transformed into a Ghost he is a shapeless menacing thunderstorm. But David or Tlaloc carries the pain for an accident but knowing it was the point of sending himself the manual…He used his son as a test subject. It was removed by years and distance. A future David Estrada used himself and George Jesus to create a chain reaction that would form the Ghost Project in the ‘Z’. This guilt was on his face. The pain disconnected David from the light that the Ghost Project brought into the Universe. He couldn’t see past the pain of not being able to undo the damage he created.
“…we, Yesenia and I were on a road trip. And that ‘How Bizarre’ song came on the radio. I have always thought that it was ‘the Dirty Vegas’ but I was mistaken, it was a group called ‘OMC’. Chuy met with those guys. These guys are from Otara, New Zealand. Somehow, they met him in the ‘Dreamtime’. Ometecuhtli…Otara Millionaires Club is more than a coincidence. ‘How Bizarre’, sometimes we think we are right because it is comforting. I didn’t damn my son. I was wrong. I set these people free. Like the pain, a butterfly might feel when coming out of the cocoon.” David took a few steps back. Transforming into Tlaloc, he disappeared leaving the floor damp and the air was dry as it was before.
I got up from my comfy chair to sit at the desk to watch videos of New York and the United States of America. I watched Kingdom of America videos…I felt the pain and the joy of being a citizen of the US and being a Han subject…being the Governor of Western Russia. I fell in love with the United States of America again…from the perspective of trying to give the gift of self-governance, a break from fascism or the oligarchy that is the Han Communist Party. The feeling from the collective consciousness about Mesi Ali is…like what she felt when she set off the McGill device…a sense of loyalty to free the American people. After George Bush used a series of terror attacks to take control of the government and dissolve Congress and the Supreme Court. King Bush may have staged the attacks like the burning of the Reichstag an event that united the German Nation in its Antisemitism and lust for Global Conquest.
Pancake syrup is sweet, sticky, and tastes good on crepes. But creepy people rarely have good taste. Ethiopia sat next to me as the day began, differently. She was American…thin, kinky hair, dark skin, a rectangular face with curves in all the right places.
“I…before becoming a model, being brought into service of the Han Empire and being infected, I grew up near South Central Los Angeles.” She’s wearing her Ethiopian flag robe. It’s tied in the front so the grease won’t splatter on her tits. She has a Han flag bandana holding her hair back. Zeina is cooking breakfast.
“I was a cook in my high school and at UCLA to pay some bills. I cried the first time someone called me Aunt Jemima. And there was a guy in the corner who would order pancakes each day I worked. One day he left me a note…
’Aunt Jemima is a brand of syrup…
It’s sweet and when I think of pancakes, I think of Aunt Jemima…
It seems that although the syrup is stuck to me…
I find myself stuck on a waitress…
whose customers think being sweet, sticky, and kinky…
is a bad thing
now when I eat pancakes, I think about you…’
“This world is crazy. My man is at home…he thinks I was killed when the Han kidnapped me from a fashion shoot in Italy. I’m sure you were the person who developed this method to bring genetic diversity to the Han Empire to bolster the Han Espionage program.”
I didn’t know what she was going to do next. She placed some maple syrup and pancake syrup next to some molasses. She poured me some coffee, water, and orange juice. Then she brought me two plates. One plate of three pancakes and another consisting of a steak, scrambled eggs, and some hash browns.
“Now, I’m serving you…because you are serving the cause of Freedom. Tomorrow, my man is going to get a letter…so he knows I’m not dead. I wanted to have a letter smuggled so that he knows it’s me and not some ‘Zed’ trick…”
“Zeina, what happened to the guy who called you Aunt Jemima?”
“Theo found out what kind of car he drove, where he worked, and where he lived. He always has a nail in one of his tires. He could have it patched but it seems so minor that douche bag never thinks someone is putting a nail in his tire. He sees no pattern because it is such a small inconvenience but when you realize that my husband has been put a nail in this guy’s tire every time, he gets it fixed for the last 15 years. Then it becomes something, huge. Alistair is there some small detail that you have failed to pay attention too?”
She has a nice body…I may be paying too much attention to her shape and I have missed some point…
In my quest for peace are my motivations only a quest for a piece…
Is the only motivation for being governor of Western Russia is all the kidnapped models from Europe and parts exotic when I have been among the Han since puberty? Now, that I’m infected is the only motivation to go along with the ‘American Zed’ plan that I will get blowjobs for breakfast? Am I creating a better world for love? Or am I creating a better world so that I will have a constant supply of intercourse partners? Am I doing the right thing for the right reasons?
Does it matter as long as the Good thing gets done? It’s the idea…some friends and I would kick around this idea when I was in Alaska in boarding school. Sin…like little sins, premarital sex, watching pornography…little things that are like rewards, drinking too much, smoking a joint…these little sins as a reward for being a Good Person. Helping others, being that guy who volunteers at a convalescent home and goes out dancing on Friday nights to hook up, ditch the girl in a cab headed to her house, and hit Mass on Sundays…with no intention to see the girl ever again. I would go to a Church or seek spiritual or religious advice but the Han Invasion means the Emperor is god and he gave me the Flag Girls to ensure my loyalty. And the definition of the Good…
Alistair and the quest for a piece…is lonely when the deepest connection is intercourse and love doesn’t grow among the infected who tap into the cosmic consciousness to see a loved one waiting for them to come home. Since being infected it seems I have a better understanding of love. Not just physical. Even among the infected, they can explain to their other halves that…this was a far more insidious war than one only fought with weapons that kill. Some of us are weapons that love or give the resemblance of love with a physical gratification.
The plan next is to sneak gravity generators into the major cities where any of the HCP, Emperor Wu especially could order a missile strike. Everyone who could trigger a missile strike would be asleep. The infected could dismantle the nuclear arsenal and place control back in the hands of the people to have a more democratic run State…
“Ethiopia? Zeina? Are that hot cup of coffee and blowjob out of the realm of possibilities?” I ask such an absurd question as I finish my meal and taking notes on a plan that seems very reminiscent of a Rufus Sewell, Jennifer Connelly movie.
“Alistair, do you like music?” She asked turning on ‘Universally Speaking’ by the ‘Red Hot Chili Peppers’. We down to business. As the album ‘By the Way’ played for the third or fourth time. We were in my study. More like the Czar’s library with a computerized sound system and music collection…Her eyes are like Hershey Kisses with a bit of mint like the chocolate mints you sometimes get at a Mexican Restaurant…when I was a kid El Ranchito in La Habra was the place to go…I knew a girl who said she was moving to France but since La Havre and La Habra sound almost the same…
“Ethiopia, the shit about a man back home?”
“I had hoped…you would be that man when this is all over.” She said as the lyric, I saw your love stream flow, played. As it repeated, she began to gush and I worried about the priceless books that may have become stained with female ejaculate as a result of my desire to elicit an emotional response from a lady whose true love had died, protesting King Bush. The memory of her first husband being killed in front of her while they protested. The shot rang out from the M-16 of a member of the National Guard (the name had not been changed to Rainbow Coalition, yet). Although, there is not a place in the head that one can be shot to make the whole head explode…Zeina’s heart stopped that day outside the dinner where they had met when they were protesting fascism as a gift to give to their children. They wore ski masks on that hot day in Berkley California. They wore all black, the protesters. They had signs: “We Mourn the Death of Liberty”. She got out of the Bay Area…Leaving Karim’s body on the asphalt next to an unlit Molotov cocktail. She went to Los Angeles trading in her Doc Martin combat boots for stiletto heels and a career as a fashion model. Her beauty and could be used in the resistance but when the Blood Rain fell in D.C. The infected made use of her. Maybe the real infection is the desire to follow, Saint Mother Teresa of Calcutta, Malala Yousafzai, Saint Oscar Romero…maybe the Author desires to confuse the work of George Romero and Saint Oscar Romero.
The words honoring Oscar Romero began as the blood-curdling screams of a George Romero movie.
I had female ejaculate and tears on my face.
Unbeknownst to me, she began to pour pancake syrup on my head.
“Such serious times…if we focus on the Death of Liberty, we won’t be able to put fascism to bed.” She began to lick my face. And before we called one of the uninfected members of the staff to clean the Czar’s Library…we kissed gently. She went to her bedroom to collect her things. From now on, she would help me with my morning ritual. From now on, Aunt Jemima would wake me up, drink green tea before we shower, go for my morning runs, swim laps in the pool making sure we follow a proto-human health regimen…lie in the sun, soak our feet to water ourselves in the evening, and turn on the gravity generator. Zeina would go with me to inspect the warehouses and loyal ‘Zeds’ building Gravity Generators to but the Han Empire to sleep long enough to bring true liberty to the continent of Asia. Until every member of the Han Communist Party was apprehended and in the control of the Infected, the whole Han Empire would have a curfew. The infected would open a new ‘Zombie Protected Zone’. It ran through my head…who is the enemy of fascism when the Infected and America are trying to conquer the world? Is the defense against Han Expansionism, American Imperialism? But America and the Infected are only going to war to stop the Han Empire and free conquered allies.
Zeina pushed the button that put the ‘Zed’ wing of the Winter Palace on lockdown so the ‘Zeds’ could get some sleep and dream. I turned on some music and I began dreaming my dreams with someone I felt a connection with other than placing my penis (and sometimes my thumb) into an orifice of her body…
It came to me in my dream that night. The Han need to think they are capable of thwarting the infected plans. Misinformation was the par de course at this moment. As we began moving the gravity generators out of St Petersburg, I would have Han Forces move in to find the loyal infected pretending to assemble generators…these infected would pretend to be killed by bullets. Then after thrown into mass graves for traitors of the Han Empire, they would push up daisies as they climbed out of graves not meant for the heroic.
Cargo planes would drop Gravity Generators in strategic places as for the Grey bases in the Tunguska Forest and Taklamakan Desert some of the infected would accompany crates filled with battery-powered Gravity Generators that would be turned on during the flight in the event the Greys were to become hostile to the plight of the ‘ZPZ’.
Now the snow came to St Petersburg and the Gravity Generators were being built and hidden. Trash was being turned into diamonds, gold, and other precious materials. I was sure things were going according to plan and schedule.
Some men never notice how a necktie is very much like a noose. Some men might say they die a little more each day, they put on their necktie. Others just think it is a clothing accessory and feel more stylish. Zeina helped me with everything since the beginning of December when we began…love is strange especially when my bosses were trying to manipulate me with a menagerie, a collection of women wanting to impress their sexuality upon my penis…and then Ethiopia, Zeina, trying to love me…more than just sex but…sex nonetheless. When they are combined…sex and love, we began to manipulate each other. She cared for me without…
Zeina has a feeling of duty but not to the United States of America or to the Han Empire but a duty to me…not just to me but to what we are creating with our love.
Loyal Russians and the infected have begun hiding Gravity Generators in their basements. Some of these to be activated and others to be shipped out upon the completion of the build stage of the plan. I’m not sure if the Greys are to be trusted and the cosmic consciousness corroborates this idea. Alliteration is terrible for the style of an aspiring author.
Someone may have said… I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character…but what about the content of the character of the tattooed. Or the content of the character of the cosmic consciousness.
Someday things will be better when I paint that masterpiece…
There is an ideal place where I lived as a child. Southern California, just after my parents came back from Nepal and just before they sent me to boarding school in Alaska. In the vast suburban sprawl that is Southern California, just before you get too deep in Orange County…East Whittier, La Habra, and La Mirada. It’s that magical place in suburbia where idiots think they are country folk and still more idiots think they are hardcore like the kids in South Central Los Angeles…or Queens, New York…suburbanites selling cocaine and prostituting their girlfriends.
That’s not the home I knew when we came back from living with the Yeti. That’s the community it became just before I left. And it seems that I will always be the problem.
It’s February in St Petersburg, Russia, Western Territory of the Han Empire and we began to move the Gravity Generators onto trucks and still more onto cargo planes. The trucks will be short-range…the cargo planes will fly into India, Indonesia, Malaysia, and the Philippines. Australia and Papua New Guinea were holding out from the inevitable Han invasion. The last planes to take off were surprise packages to the Grey Alien bases in the Tunguska Forest and Taklamakan Desert. The ‘Zed’ Cosmic Consciousness did not know the Grey involvement with the Han Empire nor did they trust the Grey Alien Influence with the understanding that the Infected, Gravity Generators and the Ghosts with their time travel technology seem to all be the construct of Humanity and one human to be exact namely, David Estrada.
The last cargo planes took off at midnight February fourteenth, 2019 headed for the Tunguska and Taklamakan Grey Alien bases. By noon the Cargo planes should be close enough to turn on the Gravity Generators and their gravity field will affect the population of these bases. All the Gravity generators will be turned on when the cargo planes are within one mile of the Alien bases. We are not sure if the Greys will be affected by the field created by these Gravity Generators. Hector Flores is one of the few members of the Ghost Project to have contact with the Greys. He believes…he has no clue about the effect of the Gravity Generators on the brainwaves of the Grey Aliens.
And now is the time for Take-Two of our own Chinese Democracy project.
As a kid as the kid of University Professors, I listened to a lot of music. Guns and Roses…when you force someone to like something like peer pressure, they are either idiots who just go along with the crowd or stop and say…Guns and Roses aren’t that great. Like, ‘Appetite for Destruction’ was maybe there only good album. Not that they aren’t talented musicians but…
Like holding a gun to someone head and telling them to become a Freemason or some other fraternity is how to recruit…Some could say the Inquisition was the fulcrum that caused the Protestant Reformation. Or maybe all the Freemason should go back to being afraid of Friday the Thirteenth. They challenged the authority of the Catholic Church placing themselves above the clergy…Knowledge is power. And if the freemasons are anti-Catholic and this author is in his own Irish Potato Famine…I may not have a job unless I become a Freemason and turn my back on the Roman Catholic Church. The Irish were starving before the potato blight because of their love of the Roman Catholic Church the Church of England would not allow Roman Catholic Christians to own land or have most jobs. How Christian of the Protestants…the Church of England, the Anglo-Saxons…Celtic, Catholic Christian need not apply. What about the atheist, Buddhist, Hindu, or the Immigrant who may not work because you don’t help atheists, Buddhists, Hindus, or immigrants…This is a Christian company, we aren’t here to show you that we are people of Good Will. We are here to send Lady Liberty and the immigrant onslaught back home, into a concentration camp or anywhere but here.
Are the infected pushing democracy on a people who are happy to be ruled by fascists or are the American Zombie shattering the Han Empire into a Million little pieces so that the individual may have a voice in the government. The government must protect the individual so that the diversity of the people becomes the American Strength.
One voice, one people?
Many voices, unity among one people?
A Nation of People of Good Will…suddenly become a world of people of Good Will?
Join the Church of England and the Freemasons and you will be allowed to shine shoes or wash dishes…?
Join the German Nazi Party or take a shower?
Submit to the Han Empire and we will protect you?
All the Gravity Generators are in place. It’s February Fourteenth, 2018 and unless Emperor Wu Gang and the Han Communist Party have abandoned civilization in ten minutes the Han Empire will sleep and wake up to the dream of democracy. A world without fascism. Maybe a world without tyranny is the real dream.
Forcing someone who doesn’t like peanuts or coconuts because you say they are good…what about food allergies. Am I allergic to joining fascism…?
Are the people of the Han Empire screaming for Liberty with rubber ball gags in their mouths?
The Grey Aliens use shielding so that they can navigate their space ships without the sleep-inducing effects of the Gravity Generators. Some of the infected had infiltrated the Han Secret joint Grey and Han military bases. Many of the humans at these bases were innocent scientists with a small minority of Han Communist Party Members who would wake up in the deepest parts of the Tunguska Forest or the Taklamakan Deserts with no supplies.
The ‘Zed’ forces in the cities suffered similar fates and only the highest among the Communist Party those in the Emperor’s inner circle would find themselves waking up in Moscow. A Moscow now razed by the Nuclear devastation caused by the terms of surrender to the Han Empire.
Still others in the HCP and the Emperor Wu Gang would be tied to the Golden Statue of Liberty in the Beijing they destroyed to end the ‘Zed’ American instigated rebellion.
There would be nowhere to go. There would be no one around. These leaders including Emperor Wu Gang would be hunted as the Han military would wake up to having no leadership. Being told that if they resist the new Parliament led government the Han Loyalists would sleep again.
And the military will feel the horror a human may feel after being roofied and date raped. Having little to no memory of being raped. And if the victim is a woman, she finds herself pregnant with no explanation…At least the Holy Spirit asked the Virgin Mary for permission to impregnate her with Our Lord. And of the fate of a man roofied and raped…then slapped with a paternity suit never remembering Mary Walker, Sarah Rottweiler, and Linda Walker having roofied the man because of his biological relationship with Audrey Hepburn, Mary Queen of Scots, and King Arthur Pendragon.
This is the stuff of fantasy.
The Han Empire has been shattered.
…Let Freedom Ring…
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