Chapter 4 Retribution

The tour had been extensive but was over for now, and it was time to head home. I wished I could say it was to rest, but with my life on the line, did I want to waste even a moment. I would need to go over my grandfather’s notes. There was a lot he hadn’t told me, and knowing him, what I needed to learn would not be forthcoming with him just telling me about it. He would want me to work it out. I figured this was only a sample problem; perhaps even simple, compared to what I might face in the future. He would want me to get used to it.

I tried to stay aware of where I was being taken, but with a complex this large, it was going to take time to get used to it all, and then I had only scratched the surface checking out the town, then there was the issue the Chief told me about.

Then there would be paperwork that would need my signature. Sighing, I wondered whatever happened to that lofty goal of a paperless world. Maybe in the same place as my longed-fore flying car was.

Then there was the little matter of my grandfather’s killers. Adam questioned, “Jim, is there anything wrong, your blood pressure just spiked.” I paused in my thinking, I was definitely going to have to learn to mask my emotions better.

The little escapade with the girls at the Matterhorn had significantly helped, I hadn’t realized the tension I had been feeling. Everything seemed to be going on at once. How had Grandfather handled it? Sadly, I knew I might never learn that.

I never believed I was the sort of vengeful person, you might read about, but in this instance, I was willing to make an exception. I had heard most of the clichés about revenge, “revenge is a dish best served cold,” or “He who seeks vengeance must dig two graves: one for his enemy, and one for himself.” This was a case where an example had to be made! The last such incident had occurred more than 300 years ago, and you would have thought that with the thirteen, such things would not be forgotten quickly. Some of you might think three hundred years as a long time, but for the Thirteen families, with recorded histories that have been in existence for over four thousand years or longer. Three hundred years was too soon for such an event to repeat.

The family histories were drilled into us at an early age, no child of the families was allowed to escape them. The reason for that dated back the to the mid-thirteen hundred, when the Black Plague was unleashed on an unsuspecting world. For most, no one knew of its origins; but, the thirteen found out. Or should I say that they learned what had caused it?

It began in the far east in what is now known as China. Oh, I am not saying the Chinese had anything to do with it. Quite the contrary, as they were as much the victims as the rest of the world. It started with one family seeking dominance, not to just aspire to be ‘First,’ but to be the only family. They had created the bacterium called Yersinia pestis that infected small rodents (like rats, mice, and squirrels) and is usually transmitted to humans through the bite of an infected flea. In the past, black rats were the most commonly infected animals, and hungry rat fleas would jump from their recently-dead rat hosts to humans, looking for a blood meal.

It wasn’t enough that Whoever they were created one such plague. They had unleashed three.

The first recorded pandemic, the Justinian Plague, was named after the 6th century Byzantine emperor Justinian I. The Justinian Plague began in 541AD and was followed by frequent outbreaks over the next two hundred years that eventually killed over 25 million people. It affected much of the Mediterranean basin, which was virtually all the known world at that time, or so it was believed. The thing is, it also spread to the east catching the family that had unleashed it by surprise. While they had created the bacterium, they hadn’t created a cure for it. They must have felt they would be safe, so far from the release point. They learned the hard way that what they created spread much faster and further than any of them had dreamed possible. The number of lives lost was no less in the east than it was in the west

The second pandemic, widely known as the “Black Death” or the Great Plague, originated in China in 1334 and spread along the great trade routes to Constantinople and then to Europe, where it claimed an estimated 60% of the European population. Entire towns were wiped out. Some contemporary historians report that on occasion, there were not enough survivors remaining to bury the dead.

The reemergence in the eighteen-sixties was just one sign that they had never found the cure for themselves.

The real damage was with the first pandemic, the Justinian Plague. It caught all unaware, wiping out whole towns at a time. While the families took steps to protect their knowledge, it was in many cases, too little, too late. While the knowledge was moved the Plague followed, often wiping out the people charged with its safekeeping. Then when the Plague abated, and people were able to travel to those so-called safe refuges, all they found were the dead. The vast amounts of records that had been moved there were eaten by the rats before they too succumbed to starvation.

What was lost can’t even be guessed at, the losses to the families that died before passing on family secrets, was the one motivating factor, that never again would biological weapons be used. Safeguards were created by those surviving so that in the future, any such knowledge would not be lost again.

Yes, the families have long memories, and lessons learned so dearly, were not so soon forgotten.

Those that sought vengeance didn’t try to extract it. It was more of a case that there was no one left to extract it from!

I was under no illusion that I would find them all, for that too had been a hard-learned lesson. That had been tried, and the families learned not to gather in one place for just that reason.

But I was going to hurt them.

They had murdered my grandfather, and I had a hunch that he had not been the only one.

“Adam, list all deaths in the last five years of family members. Leave none out, even those that died of old age.”

Adam replied with his usual unemotional voice, “Affirmative. Working.”

Instead of telling me what I had asked for, I heard the hum of the printer. It started printing sheets of information. The numbers were, to me, staggering; but I had to admit to myself this was not my area of expertise.

“Adam, show a graph overlaying the family death rate with the population norms.”

When I saw that, I shook my head, disbelieving. No, this couldn’t be right, but just to be sure if what I was seeing ... I took a deep breath. Shaking my head, I asked the inevitable, “Adam now show me a graph covering the last fifty years.”

I didn’t want to believe what I was seeing. Up until eleven to fifteen years ago, the graphs matched, then they started showing a number of spikes that had steadily grown. The most shocking was that it covered the whole spectrum of ages. No single age group had been spared. The numbers of stillborn deaths were the most shocking. Those of older children, equally so. I might be able to understand going after adults, and those in leadership positions, but this was an undiscriminating undertaking to wipe out the family. The scope of which was ... could there be words for it, nothing less than attempted genocide! No, not attempted, but an ongoing systematic attack on the family with the goal of complete elimination. Now I realized just how close to death I had come. How to deal with it was now the question. Adam had a good idea who it was and was narrowing down the list of suspects.

Then like the other shoe dropping, I asked, “Adam, do you have the same stats on the other families?” I was almost afraid to look, as they were printed out, but there was the proof there before me. While the onset was slightly different for the other families, there were no doubts for me that this was occurring with all the other Families as well. That couldn’t be right, all the others? I went over the numbers again. There was no mistake. All the known ruling families were being hit.

The Plague all over again, only more explicitly targeting all the families. What to do about this? Clearly, this was war, but a war against whom? To add to it, it was one that could not be publicly declared. Do I alert the other family heads? No, I felt I couldn’t do that without more proof, they might even think we were doing it, and just covering our tracks. Clearly, there was a new player in the game.

Talk about a ‘Mission Impossible’! No, it was starting to look like a scene from the movies of ‘The Godfather,’ the parallels were just too freaky to believe. The same yet not the same.

I needed options! The game of chess started working in my mind, and I started planning my moves ahead. This would be the most dangerous game of my life. There would be no room for error, for that would mean losing and death for all. There would be no friendly shaking of hands, of the winner and loser. For the winner would be standing, and the loser would be dead at his feet!

The chimes sounded, announcing dinner was about to be served. Dinner in my grandfather’s manor was always on time, there were never any excuses, for not being there and properly attired. I had been so caught up in my thinking I had forgotten about it.

But then I smiled and said, “Suit. Dinner attire. Informal. Everest.” and I was ready.

I hurried so as not to be late even though I was ‘the head,’ I needed to set the example, just as my grandfather had done, as I took it as part of my new responsibilities.

The girls were there. – Well, that was a poor choice of words. I began again. The women were there, both Nicky and Wind Song, and looked to be breathtaking. I would like to say I was brilliant at dinner, but I wasn’t. My mind drifted, preoccupied with what I had learned. It was a struggle to remain attentive, the girls saw this and made it as easy on me as they could. It was a good thing there had been no invited guests.

Mr. Tristan, if he noticed, didn’t display any outward signs. My mind was so far way that it failed to dawn on me that he would have recognized a troubled master when he saw one. How had Grandfather dealt with this for as long as he did? It was clear he had and done so with better grace.

I was to learn there were no secrets in a closed household such as this, and soon before Mr. Tristan could stop him, ‘Cook’ came storming out, to demand what was wrong with his dinner. He had been watching the returning dishes, something that maybe only the best chefs do to gauge the reactions of those eating. But before Cook said a word he paused, as he saw the girls looking at him in warning, then a glance at Tristan and he quickly looked from them to me. He hadn’t taken in how well they were dressed, or how beautiful they looked, he only saw the looks in their eyes of forewarning. Frankly, I hadn’t noticed, I wasn’t really there. But when he spoke it was not with the indignation he may have felt moments before, clued in by the girls, and my distant dark look of preoccupation. He saw and recognized from his years of service to my grandfather that it was not his food that was at fault.

He quickly snapped his fingers drawing the waiter to him, “Take this away, it is rubbish.” Then he profusely apologized for sending out such a poor meal. So, upset he was about it, he had forgotten to say it in German. He called up another waiter to follow him, “Mein Herr, wenn ich darf, habe ich etwas, das Sir beschwichtigen kann.” (My master if I may, I have something that might appease Sir.)

His outburst brought me back from dark my thought. He was gone only for a moment, but it had given me time to collect myself. I had brought my troubles to the dinner table, where they didn’t belong. In so doing, I disrupted the routines of the staff. It shouldn’t have mattered to me what the staff felt, but it did. Grandfather’s words came back to me, “these are people with dignity as well ... and they represent me. If I did anything that hurt them I was disrespecting him, as well.”

Cook returned closely followed by the waiter, carrying a covered silver platter. The servant placed it before me, and Cook with a flourish uncovered it. While I sat dumbfounded, the girls squealed with delight. I’m not going to bore you with details of what it was, just that you would have willingly killed any number of people to be in my place.

The evening saved, Mr. Tristan cleared his throat. Cook looked up at Mr. Tristan, and the two shared a look that said he owed Cook. Cook, for his part, merely gave a brief nod of recognition. I might have missed this before, but I had my head on straight now.

Speaking up, I said, “Thank you, Cook.” He would be finding something extra in his pay envelope. Sometimes I wish I had some way other than money to bestow a reward. I would have to think on this, but later, now was not the time. He had brought me back to earth, a service above and beyond the call of duty, as far as I was concerned. He would be rewarded in a manner that had real meaning to him.

The issues that had been plaguing my mind now set aside, we all enjoyed what was left of the dinner hour.

With dinner over Mr. Tristan cleared his throat, “Do you wish to retire to the library?”

I smiled, “A splendid idea Mr. Tristan,” He then led the way to the library. As he parted the doors to allow entry, I was taken aback. It seemed to be a copy of the library in my grandfather’s estate. It had all the appearances of having been here forever, yet there was ... well, it couldn’t be. Mr. Tristan noticed where my eyes had been wandering.

Clearing his throat, he said, “The books and contents of the room arrived shortly after the rest of the staff. In fact, most of the contents of your grandfather’s estate are here. It was fortuitous that the rooms so closely matched the one of the Manor.” I for one did not think the room’s dimensions were a chance occurrence. Grandfather rarely left things to chance, and his fingerprints were all over this, of that, I had no doubt! I had noticed a similarity in the dining room but hadn’t made much of it, with my mind being elsewhere.

There, in the middle of the room, was the chess table flanked by two other tables and comfortable chairs on either side of the table. On approaching, I noticed that the playing pieces were not setup for a new game, but were standing as if a game were in progress.

I felt something come over me as if I had done this before. I picked up the Humidor, opening it and offered Mr. Tristan a cigar. He politely took one, and I took one for myself, I lit him, then mine. I decanted a small, but generous amount of brandy from the crystal bottle, into brandy sniffers, and handed one to Mr. Tristan and taking the other for myself.

Eyeing the table, I asked, “Shall we continue?”

Mr. Tristan smiled, “Yes, my Lord.”

He then sat down, and I sat opposite. The two girls took up positions flanking each of us. We began to play as if we had never left off. This was one of those rare times when we became almost equals, it was ‘our time,’ and we were not to be disturbed. I felt it instinctively, it had been like this with my grandfather. The table without the service held a solid bar of gold, it looked as if it had been moved from time to time from one side to the other. I smiled to myself, these would not be easy games.

I recalled when Grandfather had taken me into his library for the first time, shortly after my thirteenth birthday. He had done much the same with me. Back then it was the first time I had ever been offered a cigar or had ever taken a drink. Grandfather had lit my cigar, and the expected coughing fit erupted, my grandfather hid his amusement, and offered me the brandy, “Here this should help clear your throat.” Without thinking I took it and gulped down way too much, as good as it may have been, it still felt like my throat had caught on fire, I spurted it back out as quickly as I had taken it in, as I continued coughing. I reached for a need glass of water. As I gulped that down ... as I heard my grandfather chuckle.

Grandfather chuckling at my discomfort, said, “Let that be a lesson. You’re not grown up yet, you have a lot more of that to do.” I took it to mean just because someone offers you a poison apple, you do not necessarily need to take a bite out of it.

Then we sat down to play, where he trounced me yet again, though I might say it was one of my better games against him to that date. Well, I liked to have thought it had been.

Mr. Tristan and I passed the time discussing the household affairs. Pleasantries for the most part, then for some reason I asked him about any new additions. I wasn’t asking about the staff, and he knew right away what I was asking about. His eyes gave a cast down look as he spoke of an expected arrival, but that it had arrived stillborn. The mother had been devastated of course and had been given time off, with her only just recently allowed to take up lite duties.

Immediately one of my many lessons kicked in, and I remained outwardly calm, but inwardly I could have slapped myself for not seeing, and thinking of it earlier. It all added up. I inquired just when this had happened? He filled me in on the details, then I asked what had the attending physician had to say about it. He replied that the Doctor said it was nothing unusual, as a number of the young women on staff had had similar such miscarriages over the years. He said it could have been caused by a number of things, the strain of their respective workloads. Or a failure to take their prenatal vitamins. He had been concerned that maybe there should be changes in how expectant mothers workloads should be lighten. Mr. Tristan had spoken to the housekeeper and believed it had been taken care of.

Adam’s voice in my head asked, “Is there a problem, Jim?” Adam was learning to read my vital signs in ways beyond mere health. I silently nodded as I eyed the chess board. I wondered, just how intelligent he might be, I speculated if I should play a game of chess with him, as I contemplated my next move. I rested my finger on the knight bearing it in mind, then on to the rook. Then decidedly moving to the King, I castled.

Adam replied with one word, “Understood.” Not ‘affirmative.’

I then made my excuses to Mr. Tristan, pleading that I needed time to think of my next move. Ironically, it was true. But it was not about the game before me; it was another, and far deadlier one.

The girls accompanied me to my quarters. As I half expected, there was Nick. Nick explained that Adam had summoned him to me meet me here. I responded, Yes, I had asked him to. I apologized for the lateness of the hour. Then we went into my office, the girls following.

Adam’s voice, “The room is secure.” While Nick’s face didn’t reveal anything, I saw his body tense up just a bit, I may not have noticed before, but my mind had been working on ways to read him, and I was starting to do just that. I showed him the graphs, and again I saw him harden up. “Are these what I think they are?” I nodded, Nick looked up, saying, “Adam! Lock down the compound, no one in or out,”

I said, “Belay that order.” Nick looked at me questioningly, his look hard. I said, “We don’t want to give away our hand, Nick.”

He asked, still not understanding, “Why not lock down the compound when the danger is clearly present?”

I replied, “I don’t want whoever it is to get away, either; but, more importantly, I don’t want them telling those that they report to that we are on to them.” His look cleared, this he understood.

Now came the hard part, as I said, “Nick I want a blood sample from you.”

He looked at me and said, “WHAT?”

The girls without being asked had moved to either side of him. Nick had watched them questioningly, I didn’t know why either. I then repeated that I wanted a blood sample. He looked at the two girls standing beside him, much as I had. They couldn’t have forced him, and couldn’t pose a real threat if he resisted. Then he looked back at me and shrugged his shoulders.

“Well, of course, Mr. Wolfenstein,” he took off his jacket, revealing his shoulder weapon, and rolled up his sleeve. The girls led him over to a chair and table, while one prepared his arm, the other open the table drawer and took out a hypodermic blood sampling kit and a vial. The blood was neatly withdrawn, and the sample placed back in the drawer along with the used kit and then closed.

After a few minutes, Adam’s voice said, “Sample confirmed, results negative.” Nick is cleared.

Now even I hadn’t expected that not that I hadn’t thought Nick wouldn’t be tested and cleared, but the means to do so would be so close to hand and done so quickly. I asked for details. Adam went on, subject Nick DNA sampling confirmed close family ties. The sample also indicated no known toxic substance in his bloodstream. Further testing finding subject Nick’s health to be excellent, more in-depth analyses will require additional time. Subject Nick is therefore cleared at this time for the continuation of his duties. The girls moved away from him then. One might wonder who was more relieved Nick or me. “Ok now that we have that out of the way...” Nick held up a hand and looked at the girls.

I was about to agree, but Grandfather’s voice said, “Testing of Nicky and Wind Song will not be necessary.” I was about to argue when Grandfather again said, “Testing of Nicky and Wind Song will not be necessary. Which part of ‘Not’ did you ‘Not’ understand?”

Ohhkay, that was new and unexpected. Grandfather’s voice went on a bit more gently, “Testing would have revealed nothing. Adam wouldn’t give you the results even if you managed to get a sample, and give them to him to test.” I thought to myself, now that was even more unexpected and on so many different levels. I was going to ask questions, but as I was about to, I heard his voice say, “Good luck, Jim.” I knew he was gone, and none of my questions would be answered.

‘Okay then, later,’ I thought to myself. I then looked back at Nick. “Nick here is what I want you to do...”

When we were done, I excused him, and he left.

“Okay, Grandfather what was that all about?”

If I had expected an answer, well one was not forthcoming at this time. I looked over at the girls, who couldn’t have looked more innocent, and realized, it was anything but the truth. Should I trust them? Grandfather said I should, but wouldn’t say why. Did I have a choice, yes, I felt I did, but if these girls had wanted me dead, it could have happened any number of times and ways. I looked again at them, and they giggled. Tonight, I would be sleeping alone.

It was a fitful sleep, as I dreamed, and had countless thoughts race through my mind, the chess pieces on the board kept moving in a confusing, and misleading ways, and I was feeling a trap closing in. I had to think ahead of it. What would Grandfather do? Then I thought, ‘No, this is my game,’ and it was. What was ‘I’ going to do? I looked at the board and the pieces and focused, I now saw the trap clearly, or believed I did. There was something about it, that didn’t feel right, a plan started to form in my mind any case. I had beaten Grandfather before, and I would beat whoever this was, as well.

I woke up not as well rested as I would have liked, but satisfied. It was time to set my own trap.

Dressing was easy, I just slipped the suit on. What was I to call it? I wondered how often it needed cleaning, or did it need to at all? Anyway, now dressed, I went up to eat. The girls were up and waiting for me. I no longer had any doubts about them, as I kissed each on the cheek.

We made our way to breakfast, it was laid out buffet style, and we served ourselves. As always, who could complain? I certainly didn’t need to. Then I chuckled to myself. I didn’t want to start overpaying Cook every time I enjoyed one of his meals, or I might one day end up working for him. Again, chuckling to myself. I guess everyone saw the change in me. Though nothing was a sure bet, I couldn’t afford to let my guard down.

The tour of the lower compound took up where we had left off, and I was paying close attention, to everything being shown to me. There was something off. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but there was something ... It didn’t make me feel uneasy, but it was there all the same. I knew I would have to figure it out, eventually.

Adam spoke up in my head, “Your vital signs are showing variance as they did last night. Is there something wrong?”

“No, Adam, nothing is wrong.”

“Jim, your response is evasive, there was a noticeable change in your reading, matching those of last night. I have run a diagnostic and the sensors are functioning properly. I request additional data.”

Hmm, I see that I would not be hiding anything from him. “I was just experiencing a strange feeling, is all, call it a gut feeling.”

“The sensors did not detect any abnormalities in the vicinity of your gut.”

I could see that I was going to have problems here. “Adam, a gut feeling is not ... A gut feeling is an expression used to describe the indescribable, in this case, one of undefined uneasiness but in this case not one of danger.”

“The Compound is secure, the area you are now in shows no discernable variances from any time that I have been monitoring it. It is the same.”

“Adam, I’m at a loss to explain it to you, there shouldn’t be any cause for alarm. Yet my gut is telling me that something is not right. Maybe you should inquire of your creator for a more detailed explanation.”

“affirmative will comply, contacting my creator. Priority one.” Interesting that it could prioritize.

We went up to the surface, and this time my eye was drawn to the Matterhorn. It was awe-inspiring, but why was it there? It didn’t seem in keeping with the low profile the base was meant to keep, even as a place to rock climb. It was overdone. Looking at it ... What was it I had been told about it? Under that façade was the framework of an airship hangar. So, it had to be hollow. It was huge and situated between the runway and the militia camp, I had Adam to ask Colonel Blood to meet me there. It all had to be connected, somehow.

Colonel Blood greeted us when I got there. I had thought the headquarters of the militia was some distance away, and I wondered how he had gotten there before us, even though we had been halfway there when I made my request.

Colonel Blood, “I was expecting you. I presume you want to see the mountain first.” Ok, he got me, ‘mountain’? Not Matterhorn? But mountain. We turned to an opening, or it would have been an opening if it didn’t have a somewhat intimidating gate blocking it. We didn’t go through it, but instead through a much smaller cave-like entrance. Another door and a guard sitting behind a shield stopped us till his sensors cleared us.

Then another door then opened. We walked through it into a large open bay, Colonel Blood was watching me take in the vastness of the space as he said, “It’s 358.14 meters long, 99.06 meters wide, and 64.3128 meters high.”

The ceiling was so high I got a crick in my neck looking up. High above was an open grillwork that was maybe another two meters deep from which hung lights. Colonel Blood carried on that it was an old Airship hanger constructed in early 1933.

At the far end, nearly in the dark were some rather large aircraft but in this cavernous hanger, they looked like mere toys. The Colonel noted that they were old mothballed relics, he believed, from the days when this was still a SAC Air Force Base. They were not jets that much he was able to tell, more than that, well they had been mothballed and under those wrappings who knew what they might be. But as they were likely 70-75 years old, no one thought to check.

“One thing is for sure, they have gathered a lot of dust,” he remarked. I noted this as we had walked closer to them. As I walked under a wing, they no longer looked like toys, and as Colonel Blood had indicated the dust on them was indeed thick. I guess the real question was, why were they here?

A rail track ran down the center to both ends, I was told that were engines that ran up and down those tracks and they pulled the huge airships in and out of the hanger. Walking back along that track, about midway was intersecting track that ran in a wide circle, sitting on it was a giant overhead crane spanning the area within the circle. I saw that it seemed to be able to go around on that track, looking all the world like a wide turntable enabling it to cover the whole area of the floor. In the center of that around the outline with yellow and black safety warnings, a fence made up of short poles around the outside, with a single chain as a barrier.

The Colonel saw where I was looking and said, “Oh, that’s the elevator going down.” I looked again, really? It appeared to be forty meters across, and I said so. Colonel Blood replied, “Yes, it is. You have a good eye. It has a load rating of one hundred tons, and the crane a hundred and fifty.”

Impressed, “That could handle most anything.”