Children of the Gods Part 1
Chapter 7: The Fight Begins

Copyright© 2011 by wordytom

Due to the amount of criticism, I shall officially end the story at the completion of Part1. The reason is that the criticism was, except for a couple of assholes, well reasoned and valid.

In its present form, "Gods" is too uneven and the characters not believable. This is notmy best. Sooo After Part 1 ends, I'll start to post another story thta is a little better written.

The next morning Mark came awake and remembered the way Hank and his mother had looked at each other. He recognized the meaning in the way they smiled and touched each other on the face and even hugged a couple of times.

Often Mark and Melissa smiled at each other the same way. Their smiles for each other were warm and tender when they tried to express their love for each other. There was too much intimacy in those smiles between his mother and Hank. It bothered Mark to even consider his mother was capable of romance.

"Shit," he muttered under his breath. Where before he saw her as solely his mother, she had begun to change and become a woman, a horny woman.

Mark was aware his mother had dated in the past and probably had done more than just kiss a few times. However that was the sort of knowledge he could ignore because he never saw what happened when she went out on a date. This, though, was different. He felt she was rubbing his nose in something he never wanted to consider.

He saw her give Hank warm, intimate looks and smiles. Damn, I hope she's on the pill. Even after he got out of bed to begin to ready himself for the day, he held that angry thought. He showered and dressed.

Mark came out into the kitchen to fix a bowl of cereal for his breakfast. His mother was on the phone. She smiled and waved at Mark, then continued talking. "Yes, we can be right down. You say there are both a general and an FBI agent, who wish to speak to us? It would seem Mark's program has generated some quick interest."

She listened close to what was being said and replied in an angry voice, "They can't do that. It's unconstitutional."

"What is that, Mom?" Mark asked as she hung up the kitchen phone.

"Those people claim that you can't sell to anyone but the government. They invoked that ridiculous Patriot Act thing. Hank told me they could do whatever they damned well please. It's like they have taken away all our rights."

With only Mark present, Rachel had no one to vent her anger on. "Let's go." She grabbed her purse and removed the last can of Mace from the carton.

Two of years earlier, after a series of incidents near work, one of Rachel's coworkers sold cans of pepper spray for self-protection. Rachel ordered one, so she thought. Instead, she had placed a check in the box on the order blank for one six pack. She wasted most the first can while she learned how not to use it. Mark had wasted one playing around with it and now, due to the recent events with Frost Electronics, she was down to her last can.

"Better order some more of that stuff, Mom," Mark told her. He was only half joking.

"I'll get a big case of it the next time," she answered. Her grim expression informed Mark she was not joking.

Mark poured a glass of milk and unwrapped a muffin. He gulped them down and followed his angry mother outside to the van. They were buckled up and on their way to Hank's office as fast as she could hurry. Mark was aware his mother was on the warpath. He had never seen her so angry, ever, not even during yesterday's confrontations.

The moment she parked in the underground parking, Rachel jerked the keys from the ignition and got out. Mark followed her to the elevator.

Hank and two strange men waited for them in his office. The two men stood behind Hank in aggressive postures, one in a general's uniform and the other in a black suit. "These people have co-opted your security program, Mark."

The man in black said with an oily smile, "So you're the fine young man who somehow discovered this software. After a few more tests we'll probably use it on a very limited basis." Mark decided the guy was as sincere as an evangelist calling for the collection plate to be passed.

"Wait a minute, we haven't talked about payment yet."

"Payment? Young man, it is your duty to help your country, not seek to exact payment for every little deed you may do." Mark also decided the general was as full of shit as a barnyard sparrow.

"Oh, we might be able to come up with a few hundred dollars to reward you," the black suit told him.

"Then you can't have it. There isn't a country in the world that wouldn't pay big time to have their computers safe from snoops. Let's talk licensing, as well as a possible flat payment and royalties."

"Look boy," the general began, "We already have the program we don't have to give you a thing."

"Teacher, can you disable that program render it useless?" Mark queried in desperation.

"Do you wish it done?"

"Yes. Scramble the program and the computers it is installed on." He gave Teacher detailed instructions.

"It is done."

Okay General, I had better correct you. You do not have that program. You had a demonstration model that is now corrupted. The machine it was installed on has its hard drive scrambled and you have exactly nothing."

"Nada." Rachel chimed in. She felt confidant Mark's claim was valid. Her eyes tried to drill holes through the general's chest, as a flood of anger coursed through her.

Rachel continued, "Ask Hank for the use of his telephone and call Washington, or wherever you installed my son's program, and ask about the status of the security program." Later Rachel told Mark he had an evil grin on his face that almost scared her.

The black suit grabbed a phone and began to dial. "What's the status of the new security program?" He listened and screamed, "What do you mean the computer is printing gibberish?"

"Ancient Sumerian," Teacher answered, at Mark's query.

Mark interrupted, "Your computer has translated almost the entire contents of your hard drive, as much as was possible, into Ancient Sumerian. If you doubt me, call someone who specializes in ancient languages."

He grinned at them and remembered his mother's theatrics the previous day. "You should be ashamed of the way you tried to take advantage of a helpless widow and her innocent son."

Hank cautioned him, "Mark, you better tone it down a bit. They can take you into custody. Not only that but they can hold you indefinitely if they so desire."

"That's right, young man," the general huffed at Mark.

You do that and the president will lose the upcoming election and you still won't have anything." Mark queried Teacher and continued, "He makes Bush look like a petty shop lifter and has the beginnings of an even worse cocaine habit." Mark's lips twisted into a sneer.

"Get this straight, you can't intimidate me and you can't bluff me. Now we either come to an agreement or you get nothing."

Teacher, I sense something fishy about this general. Can you find out if he has any ties with Walter Frost or some other computer outfit?

After a short time lag, Teacher answered. There is a letter of intent in the general's personal files. It states Frost Computer Engineering will employ him if he can obtain a copy of the security program I furnished you.

"General, Walter Frost will not be able to keep his end of the agreement he made with you. He's going to prison." Mark began to grin harder. "You might go to prison too if the IRS finds out about your little side deals." Mark made a wild guess. The look on the general's face said he had struck a nerve.

"Gentlemen, check and mate." Hank also had a mean look on his face. "I suggest you get the hell out of here and send someone with the authority to negotiate in good faith. Get out." As he stood next to Rachel, with his arms folded. He reminded Mark of a soldier ready for combat.

"The kid comes with us," the black suit said in a flat voice. He reached for Mark and was knocked flat on the floor. Mark's protector was six feet tall and weighed a hundred sixty-five pounds of what Mark once called "pulsating muscle." Once again, Mark thought, it's Melissa to the rescue.

"What are you doing here?" Mark asked when he could find his voice.

She was still panting hard as she told him between gulps of air, "I called to you but you guys didn't hear me. So, I got on my bike and followed you here. I knew this is where you were going." She looked down at the suit when he started to get up off the floor, "Who's he?"

"A federal agent who just tried to kidnap me and steal our security program," Mark answered.

Hank told the unhappy general, "God help our country if a seventeen year old girl can take out a seasoned government agent after sprinting five miles on a bike. Man, we are in big trouble. I bet even France can probably whip our butts, we have sunk so low."

Mark gestured toward the door and the two men walked out. He hugged Melissa and said, "My protector." He hugged her again, and then kissed her throat. "Later for us," he whispered in her ear.

Hank looked at Mark with new respect, "That was one hell of a trick with the programming. How did you know to do that?"

"I'll tell you some time. Right now, we need to head up into the mountains on an important errand. Mom will have to drive us. I never bothered to get a driver's license because Melissa and I walk, run or bike most places we go. Then Mom has to take us when necessary. See you." Melissa and Mark left arm in arm. Rachel remained behind. Mark was not pleased with that development.

Mark unlocked the van and watched Melissa stow her bike in the cargo area. Rachel came out from Hank's office a few moments later with that smile on her face. "Let's go dears."

Mark felt his anger build up toward the lawyer all over again. He opened the side door and waited for Melissa to get in. As soon as he climbed in behind Melissa, Rachel backed out of their parking space. Mark felt too many things were changing in his life.

They rode in silence all the way back to where the trail that led to the Retreat began. Rachel parked off to the side of the road and started to get out. Two rifle carrying men wearing private security uniforms approached the van. One leaned on the passenger's door. "Sorry, Folks, This area has been closed of for safety reasons."

"Whose safety are you concerned about?" Rachel asked him and opened her door to get out.

The other man told her, "Yours, if you don't get back in that van and beat it." He took a threatening step toward the van and pointed the M-16 in their direction.

She got back in the car and pulled out on the road. Mark asked, "Teacher, what is going on? Why are armed men patrolling the path that leads to you?"

"There are two survey crews that work for Sweet Home Development marking off lots."

"Please explain the situation," Mark ordered.

A United States senator was bribed to attach a rider to another bill scheduled to come up for vote next week. The rider stipulates that Sweet Home Development Company is authorized to survey and mark off lots and streets before the land is open. This is in violation to federal law."

"Are the forest rangers aware of this?" Mark could sense something was wrong. The wrongness he felt concerned more than the illegal actions of the Sweet Home Development Company. The sense of wrongness came from another direction.

Teacher continued, "The local rangers have been given orders to leave the survey crews alone. The original area that was to be opened up has been enlarged."

"Where did you get this information?" It seemed to Mark Teacher was begun to act almost independent. He seemed to have changed.

"I am still in contact with the two computers in Washington, DC and also to the one in Frost Engineering. You have never ordered me to disengage." Woops, Mark thought to himself, I have a lot more to learn about how to use Teacher.

"Is there another entrance we can use to access the Retreat?"

"Yes."

After a moment of "silence," Mark remembered to ask another question. Please show us how to locate the other entrance. He was given a "mental map" that showed an entrance five miles closer to Upton.

Mark also learned the whole area between the entrance he already knew and the entrance between Coalville and Upton was honeycombed with tunnels that all ran deep underground. Teacher had done some creative, for him, things to protect the natural tunnels and caves and caverns that made up Retreat. Except for the surface access points, the tunnels were all hundreds of feet below the Earth's surface.

"Mom, head over toward Coalville." She slowed and made a u-turn.

"Are we about to give up and go home without a fight?" Melissa asked. Mark was not certain whether she was disappointed she was denied access to teacher, or that she would not get into another fight.

He kissed her cheek and sucked on an earlobe. "Nope, there's another entrance over between Coalville and Upton. We'll go in that way." Mark felt he must decide what to do about this new company named Sweet Home Land Development.

"Well why didn't you tell me to come to that entrance, Mark? It would have saved time and I wouldn't have worried for so long when you had me hurry up here the first time." His mother sounded irritated.

Mark answered in an impatient tone, "Mom, I didn't know about it until just now. Please." Mark felt the pressure of the new knowledge Teacher had force fed him, as well as the responsibility of the new demands made on him

"Mark, please be patient with your mother. She and I are both very worried about all that's happening." Melissa squeezed his arm.

He sighed. "Yeah, I am too, I am too." They rode the rest of the short drive in silence.

"Where do we turn, Son? We're getting pretty close to Coalville." Rachel turned her head a little to look back at them. She seemed tense.

"Take the Coalville turnoff and head southeast through town on Chalk Creek road. Follow Chalk Creek Road toward Upton. When we get there, I'll show you where to turn and head up into the hills."

Rachel told him, "We might need to gain control of the parcel of land adjoining the area around where we access Refuge." Although Rachel said it in an off-handed manner, Mark realized she was correct in her assumption. They had a big task ahead of them.

"Where are we going to get the money to do all this?" Melissa asked. She saw the main problem at present was money. All their plans demanded they spend great amounts of cash.

Mark thought a moment before he answered. "I believe I have the answer to our problem. We'll need a moving van or an eighteen-wheeler with big fuel tanks. Then we go into the gold smuggling business."

He thought some more and added, "If teacher can direct us toward a large cache of gold, or a vein of ore, we'll go pick up the gold sell the gold as a starter business."

Rachel jerked on the steering wheel in surprise. "Wh-a-a-t?" She almost wrecked them.

"Mom. Watch your driving. I'll explain it when we park."

As soon as they were stopped, Rachel twisted around in the seat and ordered him, "Now you tell me about this smuggling scheme."

"It's not a scheme, Mom, and it's probably only a little illegal, just around the edges maybe. I have an idea Teacher knows where we can access a lot of gold. I'll ask him where it is and we go dig it up. It's that simple."

He had Rachel's complete attention. "How and where we sell it will to be the tricky part. We don't want anything traced back to us. We can sell locally in limited quantity. We can also smuggle gold out of the US and sell it on the foreign markets. With money from the gold sales, what we get from the security program and a few other things, we can raise all the money we need. Our problem is that we have to be careful it doesn't all get traced back to us. The government will soon begin to investigate me and too much unexplained wealth will be an added problem."

"Yes," Rachel sighed, "We do seem to be getting more than our share of problems.

""Let's go." Melissa said. "Hurry up Mark and lead the way. I can hardly wait." He took the lead. They walked and half climbed down from the spot where Rachel parked the van to a narrow path.

When they were out of sight of the road, the path dead-ended at a big boulder. "Stand here beside me," he told them.

Rachel came up on his left and Melissa on his right. They began to sink downward, the three of them and the boulder. They descended to a level well over five hundred feet below the ground surface before they slowed to a stop. "Oh wow," Melissa whispered in Mark's ear. "This is almost like an orgasm." She closed her mouth and gave Rachel a guilty look.

The older woman smiled to herself and ignored the remark. "You ain't seen nothin' yet," Rachel told her.

Mark asked Teacher to guide them by a strip of light the way he did before. A bright yellow line appeared. "Follow the yellow brick road," Melissa murmured.

 
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