Chapter 1: Prelude to Disaster, a Death in the Family

I muttered, “Aw fuck me!” having selected the phrase from a host of explicit expletives and derogatory statements, of which all were wholly inadequate to my present situation.

“I fail to see the relevance of your statement to my report,” replied Adam.

Rolling my eyes at one of Adam’s many ways to say, ‘insufficient data,’ and then sighing to myself, I merely said, “Report understood.” While it wasn’t really so, I wasn’t about to get into a debate with Adam over it at this time. A somewhat ironic choice of words when I think back on it.

I suppose, for the sake of my own log report, I should bring the reader up to date and fill in a few details.

My name is Jim. My last name is unimportant as you wouldn’t have heard of my family unless you lived in the somewhat elevated and rarefied circles of the obscenely wealthy. Those of the current Thirteen Families liked to keep it that way, not desiring the attention.

Unlike many of the entertainer types, politicians included, who thought any publicity is good publicity, those of the Thirteen knew that such was not the case. Many held that it was not only not good, but more often than not dangerous and to be sure always unwelcomed. It had become the family heads policy of not needing the public knowing who we were or what we did least those that felt they deserved more, spread rumors, or outright lies about us, in the attempt to force a spreading of the wealth in which they had no idea how to manage.

This was very unlike in ancient times when many of the significant older families enjoyed having the masses quivering in fear at their feet. Where with but a glance a Lord could have a peon/slave killed, even someone of some worth as an example for all others to see, of just how little power they held. Oh, it was still done, only now it was more quietly done to not overly upset the masses. For the masses had multiplied to such an extent that if properly manipulated might rise up and slay their masters. Even after most of the families had abandoned the practices of olden times, there were those who called themselves Kings and Lords even dictators who used forms of control that even those of the families would have a hard time living with today.

But such were often left alone as an example of what might happen to the masses if the wrong sort of person were to gain such power.

Slavery? Perhaps as old as time its self, still endures to this day in many forms some settle, some as dark as any might imagine.

However, the families over time learned pure slavery was inefficient given the ever growing masses. As early as in Egyptians or Roman Empire at its greatest, you would find slaves were often treated with a great deal more respect than you might expect. This was all the more so if they showed a higher level of competence than a mere thrall, who was merely doing what was needed to survive. A thrall was usually a person who was incapable of taking care of themselves and was all the more likely to become a beggar or a thief or some other burden of that time. The foolish ones didn’t last all that long. You might think that, in today’s world, thralls would not exist, but there are far more of them than you might think. The welfare rolls are filled with them but, in today’s world, you will not find them working in the homes or business of the more productive.

You could hardly call a thrall a slave. Thralls need almost constant supervision. While a slave, on the other hand, was intelligent, requiring little in the way of monitoring. They did need oversight, as without oversight they tended to think that had more power than they actually did. Some bullied their lesser peers without sanction. The better slaves were often rewarded for good work and given more freedom, but harsh discipline awaited those that failed their master’s expectations. As a result, slaves usually were able to work for their own benefit but shared such with their masters, since they were still considered property, and what the slaves’ possessed was also considered the masters as well.

However, a good master knew not to take it all or the slave would just stop doing whatever it was he was good at. As others saw the rewards of excellent service, they improved their skill sets as well as to gain those benefits.

With more exceptional service, a slave could even win his freedom, often working then for their previous owner at pay or for another that saw the benefit of having them work for them. But now the free man had to take care of their own needs, such as feeding and clothing themselves.

This proved to those families that were more progressive that a slave could be found more productive if they felt they were free and unshackled. Also, on the plus side, they didn’t need the constant supervision or oversight that thralls required. They had been allowed to throw off their apparent chains of slavery. This had many positive benefits, in that releasing the Families from micromanaging the masses, they became self-managing and even more productive. Hence maybe the term ‘wage slave.’ came into existence because of it.

The Egyptian Pharaohs perhaps might have been the first to discover this with the Hebrews, only to have the traitor Moses cause them to lose control, all but ensuring the downfall of that ruler’s family and the rise of Moses’s own. The story is still spoken of today, though from the winning side with a few added embellishments to make the story more interesting.

Maybe this would explain how mere enslave people at that time (as written in the Book of Exodus) had so much in the way of cattle, sheep, goats, and goods of every sort. And, lest we forget, Gold! Gold that was used to form the Golden Calf and given as offerings. That when he/Moses saw it, found so displeasing that he smash the set of God given commandments.

There is no record of what was written on the first set of tablets. One can only wonder when Moses smashed the first set of tablets just what had he had written on them. Was the commandment of ‘there being no graven image’ and ‘no other God before me’ a part of the original commandments omitted from them? Given that, what else might have been changed? After all, a single unseen God that does not require manufactured idols for worship can be much more profitable in the way of offerings or tithes taxes for the ruling class.

Religion is funny that way, and a great tool, so much better than the sword or whip. When you find you can no longer use a whip to keep an uneducated people in check, create an all-powerful God to fear, and blame every calamity on displeasing it and let it do the hard work for you. People are much easier to control if they are fearful. When you can put the fear of a vengeful yet forgiving God, or even a rewarding God, you find people are much more willing to get with the program. Adding a reward after death? The promise of a better life after death? Just how much better can it get? Not only do you have no one saying that there is no reward, but no reward need be given while they are still alive! A win, win for the priests and leaders.

Telling people to have faith in a person’s belief system is self-reinforcing. If a faith is challenged, you are in effect calling them stupid or ignorant. Let’s face it, people would rather believe in almost anything, even a lie, more so than think they’re, simple-minded, stupid, or ignorant and easily led. even though that is indeed the case. They also get very angry thinking you are calling them that. That is also something that leaders can use to control their people. By saying you must have faith without proof, they no longer need to be shown evidence that what you are telling them is real. Just mix in things that they can see and know to be true, and they will willingly believe in the rest, no matter how much it might stretch credibility.

You might wonder how an adult could be so gullible? Well, you don’t start with adults; you begin with their children. Almost any adult can tell a child a story and the child will believe it. Just think Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, or even the Tooth Fairy to get the idea. Add to that, if the adult believes in it as well, then the child no longer has a reason not to believe it later in life, even when their reasoning skills are better refined. It can be quite amazing what you can get people to believe in and do, given the right sort of propaganda. You might even say it is still very true today if not more so.

Today, the masses are for the most part self-managing, accumulating wealth of their own. My so-called peers of the leading ‘Thirteen Families’ think that the stripping the masses of that wealth, as a game. Where the accumulation of additional wealth and power is a continuing game without rules as to how to acquire it. Unrest, wars, manipulating markets, the controlling of resources; it was all fair game to them, no matter who got hurt, the little old lady thrown out her lifelong home, to manipulating resources, creating artificial shortness of supply so a whole state has to bear the burden of making up the difference. An interesting way happened years ago one following the other, in that farms were appraised at inflated values, encouraging farming to make loans against those inflated values, and then when they had a bad year could pay back those loans, and they couldn’t sell because no one was buying.

Yes, the land may have value, but only if there is some one willing to buy. Then the housing bubble, where people were convinced, they could buy a home that they normally couldn’t afford in the belief that in a short time they could flip the property for a profit. Then someone pricked the bubble, and many lost everything they had. Yes, in some ways, even that gave many a sense of pleasure. The way they kept score was with dollar signs and other outward symbols of wealth.

Umm, saying they have no rules is not entirely accurate. If you have ever played a game of ‘Monopoly,’ you know it is the kid that knows the rules the best that always wins, often by misrepresenting what the rules are, or just out and out cheating and enforcing the rules when it was to their advantage. Those that do not know the game’s rules, and lack knowledge of what is permitted and what is not permitted, will invariably lose to those that do. That was and is the real lesson to be learned from that game.

I had not wanted to play that game; I saw it as silly as it was all too easy to play. You might wonder at that, but when you are born into a family that has been playing that game for generations, you wish for a new game to learn and play. As a youth at the time, I saw it as more a curse and burden that would be limiting my vision of my future. The reality for me was that there was no point in it, so I sought to avoid it in search of something more challenging. I was a chess player, and they were playing checkers. I thus became the black sheep of the family, striking out on my own to acquire a different manner of wealth in the form of knowledge and a meaning for life. After all, knowledge is power, and often far more valuable than gold.

I found I was gifted. I had never thought so before as I was breezing through prep schools. I thought it was due more to my name, as the work I did seemed far too undemanding. The lesson I almost missed was merely the discipline to get whatever assignment I was given done to the best of my ability and within the limited period. That is, until starting university at MIT. It seemed amazing to me that the school seemed to think the students needed to relearn what they should already know to be there in the first place. I noted how others struggled with their studies to do just that, while I seemed without difficulty to go through mine. Well, at least for the first few years or so. Also, I was trying to make friends with those that were more like myself, committed to a higher standard; but I often ran into egos that made creating friends difficult. That was another hidden lesson that I almost missed. Having only known those of my own social class before, it was odd relearning - or was it readjusting - to the differing set of social customs of my new peers; and oh, how very different some of them were.

Then things became more interesting. I can’t say that they were more difficult - even though they were - as I became more engrossed in my major: studies of mathematics, engineering, and science. Physics drew my most profound interest, with the uses of nuclear energy and the promise of cold fusion drawing me like a magnet.

Nuclear energy had been around for decades, yet it seemed to me that its real potential had been barely tapped, and it had been mishandled by the military-industrial complex. I felt it was something that could change the world in ways yet undreamed of! The possibilities, to me, were absolutely staggering. I saw it as a way to the stars - dream that seemed to have been abandoned in the later part of the 20th and early 21st century. The noblest endeavor of mankind had quietly been dropped. It was frustrating digging into the reasons for that, as the space race had fostered some of man’s most significant innovations of the century.

While my father and mother didn’t fathom me, constantly pushing me into being more in line with their own peers and focused on power, money, and appearances, my grandfather applauded my vision and efforts, and supported me in them. He became my most trusted mentor and best friend, and perhaps the father-figure my birth parent could never have been.

I didn’t lack for my own resources. I wasn’t just born with a silver spoon in my mouth; it was more like a diamond-encrusted platinum spoon! Indeed, (Taxes? Taxes are for the poor.) I hadn’t bothered to keep track. I just knew I had more than I needed or could spend. However, I didn’t let myself become careless about it. I hired trusted managers to handle my affairs so that I merely needed to check the books every now and then. For the most part, I was free in the pursuit of my studies and research. Did I mentioned fear as a way of controlling those under you? While not conscious of doing so, those under me knew what would happen if they failed the family, and indirectly myself.

I was more than comfortable with modest apartments on both coasts. Now, I called them modest; by family standards, they might have said I was slumming. My mother had refused to return after seeing them. She had the opinion that I might as well be living in a cardboard box in some dirty alley, I believe I’d heard her say. Just how would she even know about cardboard? But to those below the so-called 0.01%, they were nothing of the sort.

A young woman I had been dating, of one of the lesser of ‘The Thirteen,’ had called it “quaint.” She hadn’t returned after finding out that I didn’t keep a number of servants to respond to her every beck and call. I felt it was just as well. Did I really want a woman around who couldn’t make a cup of coffee, or even open a bottle of water for herself? I wasn’t looking for a trophy wife, but for one who would complement me, and I her and help each other to become the very best. For some reason, such a woman didn’t seem to be among the elite, or maybe there was, but remained hidden from me.

Not that I had lacked in female company, though that had dropped to next to nothing when the woman I had indeed fallen deeply in love with, simply dropped off the face of the earth despite my best efforts to find her. It had left me feeling empty. My grandfather had tried to comfort me saying I was too young to have that sort of relationship, and that it would have put me off track. There would be time later when I became more seasoned. He never said a word against her and even offered to help in her search, and even said he thought she would make an impeccable wife, but I always wondered. Her loss affected me greatly. I was left with nothing but to throw myself more fully into my studies. Personal relationships were placed on the back burner. However, I still held out hope of finding her.

I had been working on the final stages of my Ph.D. and was on the verge of creating a working prototype, well at least a model, when news came of my grandfather passing. I was crushed by the news and stopped work on my project to grieve and attend his funeral.

While, in theory, I knew of his importance within the family, it really hadn’t sunk in that he had been the head of our family and had been so for as long as anyone could remember. The number of people at the funeral and their importance left me in awe. There were even a few heads of state in attendance, and more than a few statesmen, Senators, Congressmen/women, governors’ and all manner of movers and shakers. I was humbled when I realized how much time he had given me, to mentor me and be my loving grandfather, when clearly, he had such heavy responsibilities of running the Family as he did.

The memorial service could have been for a head of state, minus the media coverage and I felt humbled when it was my turn to speak. I had never really known my grandfather as the towering forceful head of the Family. I spoke of how he had always simply been my grandfather, and how he had bounced me on his knee when I was a small child and had always been there for me as I was growing up. I spoke of his constant support, and the love I’d always felt from him and that I had for him. Then, as I gazed upon those in attendance, I realized how he had sheltered me from this part of the family business. My grandfather was a force to be reckoned with. I could see that he was a man held in awe, and maybe more than a little fear, by all those present ... my own father included. I think I was in tears as I was led from the podium, I would forever miss him. I certainly didn’t recall much of what was said later.

Figuratively, the dirt on his grave hadn’t even settled before the clamoring for the reading of his ‘Last Will and Testament’ was made by the Family. I had not wanted to take part, but my presence was a requirement of the reading. Why that was, I would learn much later. Yes we were close, but he knew of my feelings about being mentioned in his Will. My unease receiving any gift from the grave, ‘blood money’ I had called it, and wanted no part of it.

I didn’t fully understand it at first, but when the dust had settled my father was a primary beneficiary, with a detailed listing of those holdings he now controlled. One dollar went to each of the other members of the Family. The explanation was that, since they were so focused on finding ways to steal money, they were encouraged to keep right on doing it; but it would be done without his help. A rather unsubtle way of saying he hadn’t approved of the way they had been doing business. He may have been the head of the Family, but he was not micromanaging them. It should have been enough that they knew of his displeasure, such were the egos involved, they felt if he hadn’t outright prohibit it, they were free to do so.

I seemed to have escaped his wrath not that we had any difference that might have incurred it. I had been gifted and received his fully restored and beloved Aston Martin DB5, of ‘James Bond’ fame, “and all that it contained.” My gift had been one of the first listed – even those of my father, which should have been a red flag to those paying attention - and in truth was not really worth all that much, not really being that rare a car. Those present were impatient to get on with the reading and finding out where the real money would go to. There was a listing of its contents that they ignored, after hearing of the first few items on it, and didn’t even bother to have it completely read. The main focus, again, seemed to be for those out looking for the really huge prize. Most knew my father would receive the lions share, the titular head of the family. Most looked at the Aston Martin as some gag gift of no consequence. They laughingly told me that I would need to sell it to pay off my student loans. Those who felt they were entitled to some part of the billions, and maybe trillions, were greatly disappointed in the contents of grandfather’s Will, that Grandfather had instructed of his Barristers to make. They were already arguing over contesting the Will. My father was explicitly instructed that he would not be allowed to redistribute the contents of his ‘Last Will and Testament.’ Even if he were to want to.

I was more or less pleased to be out of the money grab. I was extremely delighted with the gift of the Aston Martin. Grandfather and I had taken many a long drive in it while talking about most anything, but mostly it was about our visions for life, and what they meant to us. He was forever challenging me and testing to see how I would react. It always pleased me to see him smile when I did, and he would tell more about the hidden lessons and their meanings of what I had just learned. He explained that my instincts were unfailing, that even without his explaining and direct guidance, I had chosen the right path and solution. They were some of my fondest memories. I had come to love the old man as a father, as my real father could never be.

To say the Will would be contested, would be an understatement. Dangling hundreds of billions in front of the attending attorneys would ensure a bloodbath for years to come. I didn’t know how he could have left it as he had. He had always seemed to have things well controlled. The old man always had understood what he was about, always planning well ahead. Somehow, I think he was having the last laugh from the grave. Although I didn’t see how this could benefit the Family, it just didn’t seem like him to leave our family vulnerable like that. Was my grief masking my instincts about this? I knew something was not right, but I didn’t want to deal with it just then.

To say that I had lost what little love and respect I had for my extended family was a given. In their eyes, great wealth equates with greater power, and that was all that seemed to be on their minds for now.

After I was mentioned in the ‘Will’, I was told my presence was no longer required, and was told that the Aston Martin was outside, and I was to take possession of it immediately. For my part, I was happy for any reason to escape the mayhem that was already building within that office.

As I made my way down to where the car was parked there was a man standing next to it, a person who looked like he could have been part of the presidential security detail or my worst nightmare in a dark alley, standing beside the car. He looked me up and down as if satisfying himself as to whom I was. He then handed me the keys and said that if I had a need of his services, I only need ask and he would find me. He had told me his name - not that I was listening all that carefully - but as with most things of that nature, I wouldn’t forget it, “He would find me.” That seemed like an odd way of saying it: ‘just ask.’ Like, just say the words out loud, and he would find me? Of course, I didn’t say these things out loud. He merely smiled cryptically, as he handed over the keys.

I must have been still a little unnerved that my grandfather was dead, so the first thing I did was walk around to try to open the passenger door before realizing Grandfather would not be driving. I tried to hide my embarrassment in front of this man, who kept a straight face, as I walked back around to unlock the driver’s side door. It didn’t help that this car had right-side steering, being of British Manufacture. My grandfather would laugh most every time I made the mistake of trying to enter the right-side door. So, I had gotten into the habit of going to the left-side door after that. Grandfather...

I couldn’t help but start crying as I drove away. It was Grandfather’s car. I felt like an interloper sitting in his position. I still felt his presence within his car, even though now it was mine. I quickly made my way out of the city in the direction of one of our many drives together. I soon found myself on the route of one of our favorite drives. It almost felt like he was with me, as it was when he first taught me to drive with a stick. I glanced over, feeling he was there, and noticed the old fashion cassette player for the first time, sitting in the passenger seat. It had a sticky note that said play me.

Without stopping I reached over and hit the play button, and familiar music started from it; the theme music from ‘Mission Impossible.’ Then, “Good afternoon, Mr. Phelps. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is in the glove compartment. As always, should you or any of your I. M. Force be caught or killed, the Secretary will disavow any knowledge of your actions. This tape will self-destruct in five seconds. Good luck, Jim.” Grandfather loved the old Mission Impossible television shows.

The tape actually did self-destruct with a hiss and the accompanying smoke.

Did I really have a choice? I pulled over to the side of the road, and the lock to the glove compartment must have been keyed to my thumbprint. Grandfather wouldn’t have something like that left to chance. I opened the glove box with a shaking hand. I recognized this was yet to be another test he had set up for me, perhaps the last one he would ever give me. I pulled out yet another tape-recorder and an envelope. Rolling my eyes, “Really grandfather?” I hit its play button. The familiar music began once again, but this time it was my grandfather’s voice. “Good afternoon, Jim, your mission, should you choose to accept it, is in the envelope.” That was followed by a chuckle, “I’ve been dying to use that line ... Oh wait; I am dead if you’re hearing this. Well, damn it! It seemed funny at the time.”

“You may stop this tape now if you choose not to. And destroy the envelope and its contents.” I did so, as I briefly thought about this. Then taking a deep breath pressed the play button again.

“Good Jim, I knew you wouldn’t disappoint me.” as the tape continued.

“In any case, Jim, by this time you are safely out of the attorney’s office and far away. With any luck, you will be soon be forgotten about as the thunder clouds gather to fight over my Last Will and Testament, and the money. By God, I hope it takes them years to sort it all out. I did my best to make damn sure that you would be out of the ‘crosshairs’ of that fight.” Out of the crosshairs? “ I thought about that for a moment before bursting out with laughter, ‘Cross Heirs.’ Grandfather’s puns took a bit of getting used to.

“You probably think you got off lucky,” I heard as the tape continued, “with just the receiving of this old car of mine. I made it very clear, though I think few will take notice, that you were to receive ‘all that was in it.’ Know that I spent some time priming my Barristers on just how to phrase that so that the others would become impatient and waiver the reading of that list. Well, Son, with that said, you didn’t get off scot-free!”

“The folder contains the primary key list of holdings I deemed most far-reaching for the Family and perhaps humanity, as well as a full listing of what I owned or controlled that are not listed in the will. They were transferred ... by means of a number of different holding companies ... to you, many years ago. You know the drill, so there will be no need to worry about the vultures tracking them - they are not that skilled - or trying to take them away from you. It should take some time before they realize what was in the ‘Will,’ was a mere fraction of what I had owned and controlled of the Family’s affluence, given the size of the Family’s of those holdings”

“What you now hold in your hands are the essential holdings. They are now yours. Everything in the ‘Will’ is merely a smokescreen to keep the vultures off the scent. These will, I hope, shape the future of a much better world, as we have often discussed. I trust you to know what to do. Enjoy the Aston Martin, and take care of her. This tape will self-destruct in five seconds. Good luck, Jim...” ... then there was laughter that faded out, with a hiss as the tape of self-destructed with its accompanying smoke. It was hard to believe that Grandfather had such a low opinion of so many in the Family; but, from what little I had seen of them that day, it was well-justified. I didn’t think even my father was let into the deception.

There were a number of listings in the envelope that I was given to check. For some reason, there was one medical group that it was stressed I was to see them first posthaste.

Since that medical group was first on the list, I made a quick search of it on my smartphone. I learned they were a company making inroads with some medical nanomites research. Unfortunately, there were few breakthroughs. What they were after always seemed to be right around the corner, with only minor developments thus far.

Another was a research group working on Alzheimer’s and Parkinson’s diseases.’ Although the research was for a worthy cause, I felt that many of these research groups were merely looking for research grants without doing much research work. You really could tell about such people, but they were on Grandfather’s list, so how bad could they be?

Then there was a robotics company working on some different but very forward-thinking developments. For some reason, their advancements made me think of toys. A silly thought, while grandfather enjoyed toys, I don’t think that was what had placed them on the list.

Chapter 2 »