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- Chimera of Life -
Story Five: Righteous Mirage
~*~
“… See, in the war-torn city, that reckless, gallant
Handsome lieutenant turn to
the wet-lipped blonde
… for one sweet desperate
kiss
In the broken room, in blue
cinematic moonlight-
Bombers across that moon,
and the bombs falling,
The last train leaving, the
regimen departing-
And their lips lock,
saluting themselves and death…”
- Against the False
Magicians by Thomas McGrath -
~*~
Light poured through tall,
ceiling high windows and splashed upon the polished mahogany floor and walls
the color of light bronze. The sunny outside world beckoned to her, heightened
by the soft fluttering of white, elegant drapes.
Eyes almost strayed out to
the foyer but were instantly forced back to the slightly balding man who sat
adjacent from the windows.
“You have the numbers in
front of you, Ms. Catalonia. Sad to say, but we are in dire need of…
nourishment.”
Dorothy Catalonia
calculatingly placed her white, unblemished hands on top of the table, on top
of the papers, and then entwined them together. “Yes, I do, Mr. Blake. I’ve
reviewed your request, your project, and everything else in your portfolio.
What I am curious to know is why you need more money. You already have the back
up of a country, that much you have truthfully told me. So, why then?”
“Ms. Catalonia, I do not
want to hide anything from you about this organization.” Cold, gray eyes met
her own. “I know for a fact that you will make it your business to learn more
about us if you were interested, and I do wish to interest you.” A deep sigh
escaped his chest. “I do not wish to rely too much on Mr. Morley because he has
something planned for this organization… What it is, I do not know, only he
could answer that question. But, I do not wish to be more in debt to him than I
already am… If I do become more beholden to him, then he will not hesitate to
use that and force me to do as he please.”
Dorothy nodded. Oh, she
understood, all right… She had heard
how Morley operates… Small but powerful organizations she’d helped had
complained to her about him too many times already… Then again… what did Mr.
Blake have in store for this organization? What were his personal motives?
“Yes, I could understand. This is your… special project and therefore,
you wish nothing to be changed.”
Blake nodded. “We heard a great deal about your… generosity to our kinds and hope that… you would extend your kind embrace to my organization.”
Dorothy looked down at the
papers under her hands… So, he heard about what she does, eh? Bestowed little
alms to those who thought they could usurp the government… Too bad they didn’t
know what they were getting themselves into… As for her, she knew better than
to be too involved with them. It was much more fun to watch from the sidelines
and track who’s winning- although it was getting to be a bit tiring watching
the organizations make the same mistakes and watching the Preventers always
win. Sometimes she wished there would be at least one golden mind out there
that would play this game with superior moves. At least, no one yet knows what
she does… And oh… She delights when people beg to her like this… Power could be
so consuming.
“Mr. Blake… I must say that
I am very interested in your… project… I wish to make a large sum of donation…”
She saw the glint of joy in the old man’s eyes… The leader of this large
organization… He may look old and frail, but she could be quite sure of his
intelligence and ruthlessness… She had
learned, too early in life, that looks always deceives…
All right, she had already
dangled the cheese in front of the mouse… It’s time to snatch it away. “But…”
The flash of joy disappeared
in the man’s eyes.
“I wish to learn more about
this investment I am making…” Slowly, Dorothy pushed her chair back then
walked to the windows. Her eyes took in the vast, neatly moved lawn, green as
an everglade. “Your organization stated its exclusiveness… I wish to enter
this… private club of yours… Stay for a few weeks and observe, just so I could
be sure about my money…”
Blake bit his lower lip. She
wishes to see it… his world…. Should he chance it? They are going to emerge
soon… But then… Dorothy Catalonia was highly praised by everyone in the
underground community… And he does need the money… Morley had become a pain. Should
he chance it? “When do you wish to see it, Ms. Catalonia?”
Dorothy smiled at the
window, a soft, victorious smile. “You mean to tell me that I will not be
brainwashed like your little puppets, Mr. Blake?”
Blake smiled proudly. Having
developed that program had taken years, but he had finally perfected it. “I
thought about it, but… having an intelligent woman who only wish to see
righteousness set back upon the world… well, let’s just say that it isn’t worth
the trouble…”
Dorothy grinned at her pale
reflection in the glass. Flattery always was nice… then again, she’s so used to
them now… especially from needy people. “Then, as soon as you could arrange it,
Mr. Blake… As soon as you could arrange it…”
…
The Project was RJ, which
stood for Righteous Justice. Their logo, the balance scale with R on one bowl
and J upon the other, was encircled in a double circle with Gaelic
letterings. According to her
translators, it meant: “To set forth truth and justice within” then the usual
laurels…
Wonderful seal, actually…
the numbers were good, the process was quite interesting… Brainwashing had been
a practice that was forsaken and forgotten long ago. There was just no use for
it anymore… People just seem like sheep to sheepherders. Now, after over a
century, maybe more, it has emerged once again, and so very much enhanced…
Then… there’s also the
Unified Field Theory… Radar, optical, and, just recently, satellite
invisibility… Wonderful technological advances! Usually, it’s only just radar,
like Deathscythe, or just optical… but using three rolled into one! Marvelous
technology!
“How established is your
organization, Mr. Blake…” Dorothy whispered as she reached for a piece of small
croissant then daintily took a bite from it. She reviewed the papers given to
her… the reports from her own network of spies, and, of course, her own
research… The organization had been hush-hush so far. Having been established
over five years ago and the mere fact that she had not even heard about it?!
Now that was something that piqued her curiosity. She usually has a nose
for these things… Why wasn’t she able to sniff this one out?
Her head started to throb from the back and slowly crept to the front. She quickly put down the croissant on her plate then closed her eyes.
She has a bad feeling about
this one… such a bad feeling…
…
“This is the kitchen.
Breakfast starts promptly at 8, lunch at 12 and dinner at 6. Anybody who miss
going inside the mess hall by then shall not be served… But we have not had any
problems with that. They are always prompt.”
Her dull-eyed guide opened
the silver, metal doors and, as in every other room, Dorothy found orderliness,
cleanliness, and amazing clockwork operation! Then again… it is so much more
interesting to watch her guide…
Dorothy turned, her eyes focused
upon the man who was giving such a monotonous speech. He was tall, middle aged…
and definitely brainwashed… or mind-controlled, or however you term it
nowadays. Except for that dullish hue in his eyes, one could almost say that
he’s perfectly normal! How truly wonderful!
“I cannot wait to see the
main controllers.” It was just sad that
Blake had ordered her off limits from the rooms where the brainwashing takes
place…
“That would be next, Ma’am.”
Dorothy was about to comment
when a garish, ear-splitting laughter rang in the air. A frown appeared on her
guide’s face while Dorothy raised an eyebrow.
“You are too funny,
Jenkins!”
“Jessie! Hush! Don’t make
fun of Henkins- not Jenkins! And for Pete’s sake! Lower your voice! Daddy-”
“Daddy this, Daddy that.
Honestly, Onie. You’re not a child anymore! Start speaking your mind! Look at
this wall! So disgustingly bare! Why not add a splash of hot pink or neon
orange!”
A revolted look passed over
Dorothy’s face at the suggestion, yet at the same time, the owner of the
high-pitched, obviously badly disguised voice intrigued her.
“Jessie! Please! There’s
supposed to be a visitor around the premises- Oh!”
The owner of the soft voice
stopped in aghast as chocolate brown eyes collided with ice blue ones. A
frightened look passed over those eyes just as Dorothy scanned the child. What
a contradiction. A child’s face, but with soft, quiet chocolate brown eyes set
against an oval face with black strands of hair that showed from underneath a
cap. The child was wearing the same uniform like all the others, save for the
owl rimmed reading glasses that hung around his neck. For an instance, Dorothy
could only wonder at the maturity of this child who looked no more than
fourteen, though a bit tall. Obviously, this little kid has more sense than-
“A visitor will be good for
this place! If it’s another dull, boring, white, straight faced man I see, I
will go…” Jessie’s voice faded as ‘she’ rounded the corner. The stranger in
loose silk gold dress with a face carved from ivory, hair of spun gold, and
eyes blue and cold as the arctic was… was… If he’s going to let go of his
façade right now- Awwwooooo!!!!
‘Than that man.’ Dorothy
felt a mixture of surprise, shock, and revulsion. ‘What a pity…’ Jessie- the…
person with bronze skin, full but firm lips, square jaw, jet black hair, dark
brown eyes and knife edge cheekbones was wearing a mortifying hot pink lab coat
that just screams out his… personality.
The distinct disgust he
could see in her eyes made him double check his libido and remember his role.
He’s usually not like this… Actually, he’s starting to think that maybe he’s
immune to women… but it seemed like he’s not… Ah well, back to work… “Now look
at her, Onie! Look at her!”
Onie’s already pale face
turned a shade whiter while Dorothy’s ice cold stare added knives along for the
ride.
“The very picture of
elegance! Grace! Color!!! Gold! What a lovely color, my dear! Ah! I just luuuv
your dress! Is it Kressler’s?”
Dorothy didn’t want to
answer that ‘oh-look-at-me-I’m-so-cute’ brown eyes but… better get this over
with. “Yes… what if it is?”
Her haughty answer made him
truly re-assess his earlier urges. She was not, never, no way, his type. Uh uh!
Nope! He might just need to go out and mingle with women… Maybe he had been
cooped up in this loco house for so long that he was craving for some stuff.
“Ah! Wonderful taste! The style, the cut! Beautiful!”
‘Obviously, this man- er…
person, was never brainwashed.’ Dorothy wondered why he wasn’t… Blake would
surely have more peace without his screeching frantic voice around. She let his
inconsequential babble fly over her without so much as a bat of an eyelash-
“Lieutenant Matthew, please
report to the Emergency Room.”
The change on ‘Jessie’s’
face couldn’t be more distinct than a ripple on a calm pool at the sound of the
mechanical voice above head. His teasing, fun look disappeared in a sudden
dark, haunted way before he turned and instantly left the corridor.
Onie gave Dorothy an
apologetic smile. “Excuse Jessie’s behavior… He may seem a little… scatter
brained and all… but he is one of our best soldiers around…”
“What just happened?” Her
gaze didn’t leave the corner where Jessie disappeared. Her curiosity was
aroused by that sudden change. It was obvious that ‘Jessie’ or ‘Mr. Matthew’
had never planned to show that side of himself…
“He got called-”
“Lieutenant Blake, Mr. Blake
wants to see you.” The announcement broke the child’s answer and Dorothy saw a
flinch before a nod.
“Excuse me. I’m needed.”
Dorothy watched with curious
eyes as Onie Blake quietly walked away. Those clothes he wore were a size too
large for him, curious… of course, it wasn’t her problem if he wants to wear
that… ‘I didn’t know that Blake had a son…’ He hadn’t mentioned that fact. Two
interesting people… Yet, how could a father let a child live in this place?
“Tell me, Wallace, why was
Jessie Matthew never brainwashed?” Onie’s case was easy. He was Blake’s son, why should he brainwash
him? It would just ruin the parent-child relationship.
The man frowned for a moment
while he collected his thoughts… Then, as if a moon slowly appearing from
behind a dark cloud, he answered rather mechanically. “He is our doctor. Mr.
Blake does not want to cloud his brains.”
In the olden days, a
brainwashed person would not have been able to answer such a question, but
this… Blake had gone through so much improvement! Although, he was quite right
not to ‘cloud’ a doctor’s mind… “Why was he called?”
“Something happened to
Training Troops five through ten.”
She was astounded once
again. The answer was said in his usual monotonous tone yet the mere fact that
he had an understanding of what’s happening at the same time… It’s amazing how
Blake had managed such mind control… “I want to see the ER.”
“Yes, Ms. Catalonia…
Anything you say.”
‘Anything I say…’ Dorothy
smiled as she followed the man… That sounded wonderful…
They stopped just outside a
large window that overlooked a sizeable room, separated into two. One room was
filled with men and women, bloody… missing hands… torn flesh that showed those
white, minuscule holed skin and muscles…
Dorothy nearly threw up but
she held her head high and focused on the many people who were walking around
the beds, trying to comfort the very few screaming, moaning, crying mindless
patients… Uncannily, the majority of the other patients who had the same amount
of injury were just sitting on the floor without even blinking an eye! Dorothy
shook her head. ‘Why do they even bother? These people doesn’t have any life to
live…’
Her attention was snagged by
that broad shouldered man- a spurt of blood rained over his head and fell on
his white cap but he didn’t care while his hands played God… He was fighting…
fighting for the inevitable… His face, just a little while ago funny and
uncaring, now warrior-like with so much power, and yet… so helpless…
Dorothy shifted her weight
on one leg while she crossed her arms over her chest. “Doctor Matthew is one
interesting character…”
“Yes, Ms. Catalonia… I
suppose that he is…”
A slow, deliberate smile
lifted the corner of her lips, while a finger tapped her lower lips and her
arctic blue eyes observed the man downstairs like an ant in a glass…