ARTHUR & THE SWORD FORGED FROM THE MAGIC STONE (CH-2)

 

   THE HERMITAGE

The boy/man arrived at the hermitage and showed the horse the beaten up corral the old man had built decades ago; just an old donkey residing there. Ralph did not seem to mind and he seemed to be familiar with this ass, so Arthur led him in and closed the corral door. He used the old rope-latch but he knew it would not hold if this giant steed grew tired of his temporary quarters.

The Steed must be tested, Arthur thought. A trust must be tested. A more experienced horseman would not take such chances. But a more experienced horseman was not next in line to become Dux Belorum.
With plenty of hay and water in the stall, the horse would fare well through the night. Arthur entered the humble abode and found the old man waiting.

Well Arthur, a big night and a glorious new day. Come sit down here, pointing to an old pillow-like pile resembling a chair.  This is your bloody thrown for the night. Ha 


Francis got up while the boy/man sat down and found an old cup. After spitting in it and wiping it out with an old cloth, he filled it with his own brand of meade made from the honey he gathered twice a week from bee hives in the area. There was a warm fire in the hearth with smoke escaping through a strange opening to the sky in the corner of the rustic room. Francis called it a chimney which was a strange fixture in this new land.
Your time is not yet come Arthur, Francis said while handing him his meade. But it will be here soon. Word has it that Ambrosious is dead and Uther, the new king is severely wounded in Coritani somewhere.


You know that this is where the real blood is, do you not Arthur. You were born not more than seventy five Roman miles from this place. 


Tintagel, Francis is a grand castle on the coast, at the point, at the ends of the earth for the Celtics and the Romans. 


That's right Arthur. Igraine is your mama. You know this. Now you might have heard that your father was the late great Gorlois, Grand Duke of Cornwall. 


Yes I have heard of such things though I have never met mama. Arthur was warm now, and comfortable. He was always at ease in this place and felt it so remarkable that Francis would offer him his famous meade. It might have been the remarkable events that he had witnessed that night. It might have been the discovery of his new steed, the gift from the gods, or it might have been the meade that made Arthur so elated. And he always loved the stories from Francis his favorite monk.

But Gorlois is not your father; for he died a night or two before you were conceived. Uther is your father and you are Uther's only son. You are to be the new ruler, you are the once and future king of Britannia, Arthur. 


But that would make me a bastard!

Francis, Arthur pondered, do you mean that I am the product of a one night stand? Are suggesting my mums was a whore? I mean would or should there be some period of mourning after your husband dies? What the hell is Igraine doing, sleeping with Uther while Gorlois body lies steeped in blood and still warm?

Well it's more complicated than that. You know son, when a man loves a woman very, very, very much the two....

Francis...

Yes Arthur...

I have been watching chickens, horses, cows and canines fuck since I was first able to ambulate on legs. Whom exactly do you think you are addressing?

Okay, look. I will tell you the entire story.

Uther kind of took a...er...real liking to Igraine. Gorlois, her lawful husband, was disturbed by all this. So when two men have designs upon one woman, they take the only logical course of action. 

They go to war with their armies. 

Well after much todo along with the loss of a score or two of young men, Gorlois was found impaled upon some mace a farmer had discarded years before upon the battlefield. 

And Uther, knowing that Igraine was not that kind of girl, came to Merlin with a plan. Remember son, men of honor always come up with plans. Anyway, Merlin disliked the entire proceedings leading up to all this. He chastised Uther for losing all these good men when the barbaric pagan Saxon dogs were running helter skelter across his island. 

Uther asked if he could 'approach' Igraine at the Castle Terrible in the guise of Gorlois. "Guise of Gorlois"...pretty good. You gotta admit, I have the gift. Anyway, Merlin says Okie Dokie, but if there is a child  born following this tryst, I get the baby. Got it?

Uther agreed upon a solemn oath. He knew Merlin liked the youngun's but...well I mean Merlin's gifts were of use so many times that your father overlooked some things.

So Uther went into the Castle Terrible in the guise of Gorlois . So your mumsy was not and is not a whore.

The end.

Tell me this Francis. Do I look more like Gorlois or Uther?

Do not really know Arthur. Never met either gentlemen.  


No, son, not under our old laws; for your father, Uther married Igraine within the time of the full moon following your conception. It was a secret ceremony recognized by our Celtic clergy. And a sacred document attesting to this ceremony is currently in the possession of Merlin.

I must, I must immediately rush to my father's side to defend my nation....Arthur attempted to get up which was not impossible in his condition but Francis feigned to hold him down.
No no no. Do you trust me?
...

DO YOU TRUST YOUR FRIEND FRANCIS?
Yes I do, for whom else is there to trust during these perilous times? Replied Arthur.

You now have a steed if you can keep him. You also need a sword and a shield. I have a saddle for you and some rigging to carry your material needs. You are strong and sharp and you have already learned the secrets of the forest and how to fend for yourself. 


You must begin a quest. A quest for your sword and your shield and some coin....I mean some coin would be a fine idea. 


But Francis, my father is Dux Belorum for chrissakes--both men blessed themselves--and I would receive all the armaments and such that I would ever need. 


Arthur, listen close. Please. There are men with lean and hungry eyes at your father's side right now. If you were to appear at the battle site now, before certain things are accomplished, the Saxons would be the least of your problems.  Besides, under your logic, you could just have gone to the battlefield without a horse. 


But I needed MY HORSE. 


Yes, and the Good Lord provided, did He not?

After blessing himself, the boy/man contemplated all of this. How long should this quest of mine take?
Within two full cycles of the moon, Merlin shall arrive here to escort you to your destiny. But it was I who had an angel come to me in a dream and foretell of all these amazing things. And the presentation of Ralph  as come to pass as well as just your presence here tonight. 


Was that the little red headed sweetheart from Gloucester that was visiting last year at this time following your biannual sale of meade to the local hostels there? 


No Arthur, and if you ever speak of this again I shall...I shall never speak with you again. Even old monks need some ease and comfort at times. I mean winny the ass starts looking pretty good after a couple three months and....

NEVER MIND ABOUT THAT. Now son, you know of the mysteries of metallurgy, do you not?
Merlin showed me the ways of Hephaestus and Ernie the Sludge apprenticed me for two years. Did you know he had this secret room at his works where he kept this hunchback dwarf woman. And he would tell me stories of how she had two sheaths, so to speak and...What a smelly godless peasant was he...but he was so clever with the use of ore and we used to make the finest swords....
I have an idea..Yes, Francis I shall go on a quest upon my new mount and I shall return having completed all my tasks within the time of the cycles of the two moons. 


Agreed? 


Agreed, replied Francis, smiling now as he filled both cups with the last of the meade and as he took out his lute:

                   OH MY BRITANNIA*

What has happened down here, is the times 
have changed.

Romans be long gone and the Saxons startin
to gain.

Saxons comin real hard, and they gainin for
a real long time.

Saxons comin down harder in the old 
Domnonian Plains

The Saxons raid all day, and they raid all 
night

Some people got lost in these wars, some 
people got away all right

Our soldiers have been slain clear up to 
Coritani

Some have landed in the fields of
Tintangeline

Oh my Britannia, Oh my Britannia

They're trying to scare us away, 
they're trying to scare us away

Oh my Britannia, Oh my Britannia

They're trying to drive us away, 
they're tryin to drive us away

Old Duke Ambrosius come down here, in
a big parade

With a Seneschal asking if more of our 
hardy boys would lend a hand

Ambrosius say "Seneschal, oh isn't 
it a shame,

What the Saxons have done to this 
great Celtic land."

Oh my Britannia, Oh my Britannia

They're trying to scare us away, 
they're trying to scare us away

Oh my Britannia, Oh my Britannia 

They're trying to drive us away, 
they're trying to drive us away

They're trying to drive us away, 
they're trying to drive us away

Arthur awoke with a head on and proceeded 
outside to respond to his immediate call 
to duty. 

This is dangerous. I could poke someone 
in the eye with this woody and do some 
real harm; where are the Saxon dogs when
you need one, he thought. 

Oh saints preserve me. This is the dawn 
of a new era. With that thought, almost 
fearfully, he snuck a peak 
at the corral. Sure enough, there was Ralph.  

Hey Ralphy. How ya doin? You know I could 
have returned your favors from last night 
if I had only thought about 
it two minutes ago. Hahahahah

Arthur went over and stroked the majestic 
animal's brow. Ralph snorted kind of a 
harrumph his way. Ha 

You aint agoin nowhere are you, your majesty? 

As any good guest would, and to work the sleep 
out of his bones--as well as some of the left 
over meade--he chopped up some wood on the old 
stump in back of the hut and carried it inside. 

He got that fire going again and did 
that feel good.It is strange how a fire can 
warm the heart and dry the dew from a man's 
clothes, he pondered.  

The old man began to stir, probably feeling 
safer as a result of the warmth from the emanations 
of the hearth. Tossing off the covers made of skins,
Francis knelt in prayer.

Arthur cooperated as he always had when he witnessed
a member of the clergy acting out of piety instead 
of hypocrisy. 

Lord of Hosts, hear my prayer

We ask not for You to slay our enemies

We ask instead for the inner strength

The inner fortitude to perform in the 
face of immediate danger

To perform so that we may maintain 
our land

To perform so that we may maintain 
our family

To perform so that we may maintain 
our customs

This boy/man is about to seek 
full manhood

This boy/man is about to earn his rightful 
knighthood

This boy/man is about to be crowned a king

This boy/man may represent all our hopes 
and dreams

Help this Arthur in his quest

Help this Arthur find his best

Amen 

Oh and Lord

Please give those heathen 
Saxon dogs no quarter.

Francis fed Arthur some porridge made of locally 
ground grain cured with a little boiling water 
and topped with some honey. 

An apple finished off the feast and the two 
proceeded to the corral. Ralph was fitted with
a saddle as well as a bit, 
of which the steed was none to fond.  

Blankets and packs were attached to this self 
sufficient system of travel. The old monk included 
dried meat as well as some grain.

A simple bow and an old rusted sword would make 
the ride easier.  

How do I repay such kindness Francis? Yesterday I 
was a boy alone in the forest. Today I am fitted 
as a would-be knight. 

You shall thank me by completing your task and 
returning by the end of the second cycle of the moon. 
The goddess Luna shall watch over you but shall 
heed the movements of Luna. 

Arthur kissed the hermit on the cheek and led his 
new steed toward Gloucester.  His first task lies in 
that direction and he knew he needed the old Roman 
Via to complete it.  

At last the once and future King had a singular
purpose.
 
A quest takes many steps, and the first steps, 
important steps had been taken.

ARTHUR & THE SWORD FORGED FROM THE MAGIC STONE

 

The fields had been so quiet. So quiet you could hear a peasant smothering his second wife to death with a feather pillow in the adjoining county; if you were into that sort of thing.

There was no wind. When it is like that, the stars kind of stare down like they are waiting for something to happen.

Oh there was half a moon and yet, with not a cloud in the sky, the stars stared down, waiting. Time stands still when this happens. No one ages. Arteries stop clogging. Hate dissipates. Only REM sleep continues only it takes people to fantastic places not known in a world normally filled with doom and gloom.
Am I awake?  No wind, no clouds, no bugs. My god I am surely dead.

Somehow he had ended up in this field of clover. He certainly felt damp. But not from a rain; he was damp from the dew.

Oh I am in trouble now.

He recalled some things Merlin had taught him about those magnificent stars. There was more to this map of far away suns than just the two bears containing the North Star.

He recalled something about Orion and Orion's placement in the sky at this time of year and the number of bells on the grand clock at Glastonbury. The stars had something to do with the time of night besides the seasons.

It is just a little past midnight, the boy surmised. In late summer the sun would set around 9 bells.

There are omens. He looked at the northern sky and there were these auras; gently streaming waves of light with a bluish white hue.

And he saw a miracle. A falling star appeared, speeding to earth in a magnificent arc as if it had been plucked from Orion's Belt. As it disappeared just over this mighty hill to the West, there was this explosion. It could not have landed that far away because he heard the sound of thunder soon after the glow from the explosion dissipated.  Arthur sat watching in wonder.

THE DAWN OF A NEW AGE APPROACHES.

Arthur arose and walked toward a pond some fifty paces away. The pond was so still and its  water acted like a large mirror. As he arrived to the edge of this magic pool, a fish jumped not ten yards away diving back into its liquid homestead; causing perfect concentric circles to spread over the pond.

Hoooooooooo hooooooooooo ....an owl

Well the fish and the owl tell me that there is life here. I am not in the land of the dead. But how did I get here?

Arthur had walked toward to east to reach the pond. The North Star told him that much. Staring across the pond to the east he saw a tail of smoke rising beyond. Now he knew where he was, he thought as he washed the sleep from his face. Wooooooo. Chilly.

He turned toward the south to walk the edge of the pond and proceed east to the old hermit's home; the hostel at the edge of the forest. Francis would be growly, but what else is new? Ha the old fart will be happy to see me.

Never leave the fortification without your sword, without a magic coin and without your horse. A horse. That's fine unless you are fourteen and they will not let you have a horse to call your own. The horse was the symbol of knighthood.

Alexander had the magic Bucephalus which he earned when he was much younger than me. The mighty lad had tamed the greatest of the wild steed with neither saddle nor reins. The gods had presented Alexander with Bucephalus. The conqueror had led armies atop this steed at thirteen for chrissakes. (Arthur blesses himself) 

Caesar had his magic Horse Pollix; Pollix had toes above its hooves like one of those monsters you would witness at the carnivals. Others would have eschewed such a deformed creature of God. But not Julius; he knew the gods had smiled upon him and his great future feats as the greatest of the Romans. And Caesar certainly would have had this magic stallion by fourteen, since he rode it as head of his family by his sixteenth birthday.  No one else could ride that steed. No-no-nobody else.
Merlin had made him read this history reciting the importance of the mighty steed to the conquerors of history:

Every conqueror needs a distinguished horse which only he can ride. A number of classical sources note that Julius Caesar possessed such a horse, born on his own lands, whose front hooves resembled feet since they were divided in such a way that they looked like toes. This unusual condition was interpreted by a soothsayer as an omen that the master of such a horse would one day rule the world. Naturally, the horse would endure no other rider save Caesar. This observation in Caesar's ancient biography seems to recall the characteristics of Bucephalus, the wild horse tamed by Alexander, which provided that hero too with an oracle predicting world empire. In medieval romance, Alexander's horse becomes a horned creature so wild that it eats men. In a later medieval epic on Julius Caesar, in addition to unmistakable feet, his horse gains a fabulous horn on its head with which it can topple other riders and their mounts. A number of depictions survive in which this mythic horse (rather than its owner) is in sharp focus. A colourful earthenware dish of the early sixteenth century, which captures a moment in the triumph of Julius Caesar, appears to jettison the medieval horn in favour of a more rational spike attached to a harness, but all four of the horse's human feet remain clearly visible as it is ridden on parade by a youth, who carries a globetipped branch to signify that their master is ruler of the whole world

Arthur was fifteen on the morrow. Hell, I am fifteen now since it is after the midnight and...and...the omens tell me so.

Cai already had his horse. Once you had your own horse you were beheld as a real knight, a true knight whether properly vowed or not. Sometimes the oath would just be taken by the padre and seconded by the local duke at a later date. Cai had received both those honors.

But even Arthur, who had trouble with the ancient Lingua Latina knew that Rumpus was not a valiant name for a horse. And Arthur had told him so.

Look Cai, Alexander rode the Black Steed of the Gods, Bucephalus. Caesar had his grand Pollix.

But he learned long ago that Cai could be taught nothing.  Horse shite for brains; that was Cai.

These thoughts always made his journeys shorter somehow. He could see the hermit's place on top of the small tor ahead. And then, he heard a snorting. What the f......

Just then he was blind sided, knocked down to the ground by a monster of some kind.  Suddenly, he felt a strong flow of water upon him as he lay in a stupor. As he struggled to awaken from this traumatic trance, he knew it was not water. Shaking in anger he got to his feet. 

WHO DARES ATTACK THE GREAT ARTHUR?

A giant horse stood face to face with the urine soaked blue-blood. Snort.........
Hahahahahhahahah

Who's that. Who the hell is that? Called out Arthur, carefully surmising this monster with the rudest of manners.

It is I, Francis.

Oh Francis it is good to see you. But doth thou seeeth what I seeeth?

I most certainly seeeth what just hath peeeth. ahahahahahah

Oh that's Ralph, Francis continued, the feral equine. He comes around here a couple of times a year. Ha, it looks like he has taken a liking to you. Always knew Ralph had no taste in humanity, except for feeding upon fallen soldiers from time to time of course. Hahahah

Arthur shrieked.

But he has taken a liking to you boy. He does not knock down and piss on any woodland fairy. hahahahaha

I shall be right back boy.

Ralph kept staring at the boy. Arthur stared right back. No frickin animal is going to stare him down.  The two stood nose to nose for some time. Both of them were too proud to flinch. Ralph wondered what pride this youngster could still hold onto have bathing in the aftermath of his long drink at the pond.

All righty then boy, ask Ralph what he thinks about this, Francis instructed as he handed him a rope.
Arthur laid the rope over Ralph's head onto his neck, carefully; oh soooooo carefully; like he was awarding the horse with a wreath following the Kentucky Derby. Ralph did not even move. There had been an understanding of sorts reached between the two males.  Arthur had almost forgotten the stink if not the chill shooting through his limbs from his soakened clothes.

Francis was astounded. He really had never seen anything like this before. Ralph had been most unsolicitous over the year the monk knew him. The animal would show up out of nowhere and walk the hermit's grounds like he owned the place. Francis at first took this as a hurtful gesture; as if the steed looked down upon the lowly man.

Francis handed Arthur the hooded robe he had brought with the rope. Go back to the pond, clean up and put this on.

The Once & Future King led the horse back to the magic pond, stripped and jumped right into the water. Ralph aint goin nowhere. At least he hath better not!

He knew that the slow wade through the pool was more painful than sucking it in and taking the leap. OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH THAT'S COLD!!! JESUS H. CHRIST!!!

Arthur arose from the pond shivering and blessing himself. He had been cleansed of the sins that had recently been perpetrated upon him.

The mighty horse seemed to look askance at the shrunkin genetalia of the young teen and laughed with a mighty snort.

This is all your fault you know, the yet to be mighty Arthur said aloud to Ralph as he donned the hooded robe.

Ralph snorted some more.

Arthur led his mighty steed, the stuff that knights are made of, back to the hermit's quarters.  But he could swear he heard a tune, a tune from that old student of Talesian as the two strolled toward their destination:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HbUrv0UZWFI&feature=related

Francis was so taken by the horse's aplomb, that he would just put a bucket of grain and a bucket of water outside his door; he had so admired the freedom with which the steed moved. Where ever he wished? No prayer sessions. No worries about sinning and all that; certainly no table manners. The mighty steed, at times, would take some mouthfuls of oats, push the bucket over and run for the glen. Sometimes Francis thought he actually just took to this horse for his rudeness.

Gawain had once showed up at his hermitage drunker than a skunk which was as it always had been on a biannual basis for years;  my Gawwwwwd that man smelled. (Blessing himself) Naturally, after filling the knight with sustenance he did not merit, Gawain passed out upon the straw floor. The next morning Ralph showed up on the sacred grounds.

The hungover parasite jumped through the window and went after the steed, the most beautiful steed he had ever seen to no avail.

Gawain is the worst of this new generation of noblemen, I swear Francis had exclaimed at the time.
The boy and his horse approached the hermitage.

(The end of Chapter One)
http://tpmcafe.talkingpointsmemo.com/talk/blogs/d/i/dikkday48yahoocom/2010/02/the-sword-forged-from-the-ston.php

NORTHCO-18: The Goddess of the Sptring

In Greek mythology, the Naiads or Naiades (Ναϊάδες from the Greek νάειν, "to flow," and νἃμα, "running water") were a type of nymph who presided over fountains, wells, springs, streams, and brooks^[1].

And welcome to the corporate sponsored republican sponsored golf tournament of the century featuring 14 of the world's top 23 golfers in a field of 18. (What in god's name does that mean, anyway?)


Now as you know the proceeds from this tournament shall go to the Tiger Foundation.


Tiger will not be participating in the actual tournament. As you might already know, Tiger was in an automobile accident last week.


Oh so Tiger will not be 'participating'. Hahahahah thought Frank. Imagine; he is not appearing at his own goddamn tournament for his own goddamn foundation. Car accident my ass!


Frank liked to watch golf, mostly when he was when he was not otherwise involved and it seemed like he was not involved in much lately. Even if he decided to work all Saturday at his PC, he could still keep the telly on and listen to it as background.

And he liked to watch each golfer demonstrate his own idiosyncratic stroll around the golf course.

Tiger of course always looks like he is at war; on the battlefield. You would think that there were rumors of land mines planted on each fairway; yet our hero just could not be bothered with the issue of imminent death or injury and forges ahead and casting aside any threat to his person..


Michelson, the great white hope of course, kind of does an impression of the incredible Hulk. Boom, boom, boom...the earth shakes as he moves down a fairway. Frank remembered one tournament where V.J. Singh was complaining aloud of the damage the Great White Hope could accomplish just by hulking on the sensitive greens with over sized cleats..


And speaking of Singh; V.J. has this dance with his long legs. V.J. takes this lazy swing, almost a dance in itself. Such grace. Even when he slices one from the fairway, he kind of swings his iron with aplomb; more displeased with his stroke than cursing his fate.


Harrington by the way, with ancestors who knew not how to spell Patrick, kind of lunges down from the tee like Michelson but more like he is about ready to jump right into an Irish Jig.


What makes me wish to vomit however, is when the winner of the tourney thanks Jesus for the win. Perry and Cink are the latest examples of this blasphemy, this idiocy. I mean why in the fuck should Jesus, Our Lord & Savior, give one shite who wins a tournament put on by the rich, of the rich and for the rich? Oh yeah, because one percent of proceeds go to some rich medical foundation. You call that tithing?


And thinking of golf; there is nothing more exemplary of the hubris of mankind than a golf course. I am man and I am now in control of all nature. No hedge shall be carrying an extra leaf. No reed from the pond shall extend to far above the waters. No tree limb shall extend unto the fairway that is not represented in that year's sanctified plans. And no fauna shall be aloud on the grounds that are not sanctioned by the Club.


It was like these rich slave owners took a piece right from the bible:

And God said, Let us make man in our image, after our likeness: and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth. (Gen. 1-26)

Go out sometime with a real hunter. The kind of guy who climbs up in the tree house put together with some two by fours and painted plywood. He or she sits in the cold for ten hours. It is cold, there is brush and briers and twigs and branches. The modern day hunter who plays by the rules transports himself into 'nature'. We can get into the fairness of it all. I mean with these high tech rifles and scopes and even (in some places) the red light emanating from the scope onto the poor animal.


But the tree he or she waits in has not been molded or genetically designed. The natural grasses have not been mowed and seeded and watered and.........well you get the idea.


No a golf course is a perfect example of man taking full dominion over nature and the only manner in which nature can get back at this human hubris is by attacking with lightning and rain and flooding and all the good things nature does to the panoramic vista of the earth. Ha


Everything about a golf course is so goddamnable artificial.


On my last day here, in this godforsaken place, I would like to load up all the glowing armadillos and transport them to the most expensive Nicklaus planned golf course in the country, the week of some grand tourney, and let them go onto the pretend garden of eden. Then disburse the lot at dusk, Wednesday, and hope the new denizens greet the dawn at the first tee just as the Golf Channel is getting ready to film.


Oh and speaking of hunting, there is the vision of the mighty Stag, the ruling god of the forest. Come and get me he seems to say at times. And it is in our genes to take after HIM. To slay and to gut and to cook and to eat HIM. FOR THIS IS MY BODY, take ye and eat if you dare.


What the hell is genetic about three hundred dollar sticks and balls and the search for the holy cup?


Just then, in the midst of these profound musings, Frank heard the door bell.

Gentlemen. And I thought my Saturday PM would be a time of aloneness and contemplation.


Hello Frank. Let me introduce Mortimer from Pierre.


Hello Mortimer. Won't you both enter.

Frank showed them to the porch.

Are we consuming brewed hops or tea this afternoon, gentlemen?


Tea would do us both just fine.

Frank disappeared into the kitchen.

These are nice residences Langdon. I mean the homes are nice and the streets safe and all.


Well Morte, on the surface things seem to be quite suburban here. But this surface is similar to the way things looked on the economic front in '06. Underneath there is a boiling magma of evil, I am afraid.


Frank appeared with a tray full of goodies.


What the hell is this, I thought Julia had passed on Frank?


Oh, you had called last night and I like the kitchen. A place to put together puzzles you know.


Frank, we were just notified that Sphincter is missing. I think he is dead. Don't ask me why I think that, but I am sure from my sources that you will not see him againAnd from what our intelligence lets on, you are now number two at NORTHCO. Mortimer piped up.

I received a strange call the morning from the front office and I am to report bright and early to the fourth floor that does not exist, Mortimer.


You know these little white cookie thingies are quite good, noted Langdon. Are you telling us that there is some floor you have NEVER BEEN TO in your own building?


That is correct Langdon. Oh and these are scones, from Brittany; kind of a delicacy. Anyway, I told you last week that I happened upon that strange area or arena a few months ago. I do not even know the goddamn name of the man I am going to see gentlemen. I do not wish to become too personal here, but this is strange, even in the corporate world. Just remember, we are dealing with one NORTHCO installation here. I was present at one board meeting last year in New York; some presentation with this huge flat screen which took up the entire wall of the small auditorium. A man by the name of Farnsworthy presided.


Frank continued: I actually saw three different men there who looked just like Sphincter. And they had badges that said 'Sphincter'. I approached one of them. 'Harold Sphincter' the badge said. I greeted him and when I pointed out that we had our own Mr. Sphincter in South Dakota he looked at me funny and just walked away. And I was shot down every single time I approached anyone present with a question concerning NORTHCO's product. So I just gave up. You boys understand, every year they give me a raise. I just cannot take it any longer.

Langdon inquired: Have you communicated recently with this Algernon Flower Frank?


Yes I have. He has been gathering samples of substances in our basement warehouse under my guidance and direction. He is actually driving them to your BAC in Sioux Falls today, remarked Frank. Algie has really been hurt by all this, as you well know Langdon and ....I hope he is not a serious suspect in the death of his friend Thomas. Algie is a man possessed right now. He has real determination and is demonstrating that now.


I will call BAC on Monday. I had not heard this and it strengthens my faith in you Frank, Morte said.

Morte I think that there are real issues here concerning the environment at that the reports of these glowing trees and bushes along with the strange colored fauna demonstrate a real threat to our State. I was going to say community but if you are experiencing these problems all the way west of Pierre, we might be in the midst of an emergency. I have already notified the Feds at several different agencies. And with the new change in the Administration, I think we have an EPA that is serious about our environment once again.


Langdon, here is how I see it and I have done some research about all this. Now everyone speaks of the Land of 10,000 Lakes to the east of us. Wisconsin refers to them as ponds, of course. Haha But in point of fact Minnesota has about twenty thousand official lakes.


We have hundreds upon hundreds of lakes and reservoirs in our state together with the Missouri River system. Here is just an excerpt from a study examining one aspect of pollution in our lakes and rivers:

Chipps said the study helped answer why South Dakota first began to see high mercury levels in fish from some lakes in the years after about 2000 -- first in Bitter Lake, then in other lakes that include Highway 81 lakes, Lake Isabel, Lake Hurley, North Island Lake, Pudwell Dam, Roosevelt Lake, and Twin Lakes.

"By the time we got started with the research in 2004, we had about six lakes that had mercury advisories on them," Chipps said. "The question was, why do these particular lakes have high mercury concentration? Prior to that in South Dakota we really hadn't had any mercury advisories to speak of."

Though the health benefits of eating fish are well documented, human exposure to methylmercury from contaminated fish can pose a variety of health risks, with the severity depending on the amount of mercury consumed. The fetus and young children are considered much more sensitive than adults. Frequent exposure during childhood can damage the central nervous system and affect neurological function (with possible effects on learning, muscle development, motor function, and attention). In adults, high levels of mercury can harm the kidneys and brain and have also been linked to increased risk of cardiovascular disease.

Morte continued, that is just mercury as one pollutant and there are tens of thousands of pages written concerning the rising levels of this poison, its origins and its effect upon our citizens as well as our flora and fauna.

Now most people are aware of problems related mostly to sewage such as bacteria, viruses, protozoa, worms and other organisms. Depending on the levels found in our lakes and rivers, fishing is an industry that suffers immediately. But we begin to have real issues concerning our drinking water.

Nitrates and phosphates affect the growth of algae and other plants that affect the oxygen content of the water that can actually kill our children besides our fish.

Oil, plastics, and pesticides are just a few foreign elements coming from our own farms and manufacturers represent another class of pollutants.

Frank chimed in: this is all so complicated to those who do not deal with these issues on a daily basis. Shite, this is what government is supposed to study and is supposed to regulate. I mean in my little examination I noted that besides our river systems, natural and artificial reservoirs, lakes, ponds and marshes we are supposed to be worried about groundwater and water tables. It just goes on and on. And so we are discussing a water system. And it is like once something enters this system whether from our farmlands, our mining operations, our sewage systems...well the elements in all these entry points end up in the entire water distribution system. If something is added to the soil in North Dakota, it can easily end up in our drinking water. This information and study is all under some heading of hydrogeology or hydrology.


That is why I have attempted to alert as many agencies as possible Frank, responded Langdon. And I think some private environmental groups should be put on alert. I would like to see some independent tests done on the soil and groundwater. This is big. I mean if in fact NORTHCO or some other manufactures or some mining operations or some new damn fertilizer...or a combination of any of these activities have culminated in the kind of results I have been seeing here, the murders are least of my concern even though that is supposedly my primary purpose here.


Frank I have actually heard rumors that nobody at NORTHCO has children. There are reports of missing personnel. And I think that it is more than just coincidence that everything seems to center around NORTHCO. Otherwise why are all these problems occurring here? I sat with you within the last week and witnessed a squirrel with two heads and more than four legs, right outside that window.

Morte sat up and surveyed the lawn and pond outside the porch they were sitting in.

The three continued their discussion and Frank handed over some of the materials he had gathered from work; although he was still missing the files that he was sure were in the hands of Sean.

Have you guys seen Sean's dog? I mean they do not call him Sparky for nothing!!!

NORTHCO-17: The Attack of the Armadillos

November 30, 2009, 11:30AM

Samuel L. Jackson

Pulp Fiction

Mortimer Young awoke pissed off. He was used to greeting Rosy Fingered Eos in that manner; had been for years.

Angela was used to it. Frisky at night, pissed in the morning. That was her mate for life; actually made her giggle after all these years. Suddenly she realized she had to get up and start putting Thanksgiving together. Worked on the 'full platter' all week, after all. Angela began smiling.

Meanwhile Mortimer was washing the ire from his six foot five frame. Oh yeah, he thought, Auntie Millie and Uncle Kevin and the rest of the crew. Ha!!! Actually, I kind of like Thanksgiving. Always fun to watch Detroit lose.

Nice ride actually, he thought, two hundred miles of straight driving to Sioux Falls and north from there. Seventy five miles an hour and it makes it a nice ride. Not much to see on the Plains in late November, really. I mean except for the firs, there is no green, there is no foliage, there is no snow, there is no sunlight, there is no....November.

The dinner yesterday had been tremendous. For once everybody was happy. These are the days as Ten Thousand Maniacs say.

There was one thing that nagged at him however. He could swear that the cooked turkey kind of glowed a faint orange as Angela brought it to the grand dining room table.

Mort arrived about three p.m.

Is Langdon here?

Sure is Morte, responded Sally. Langdon, wake the hell up. Your appointment is here.

How the hell are ya Morte?

Good Langdon. Get some turkey and some lovin' on your feast day?

The two entered Langdon's corner office and parked at the desk. Langdon reached into the drawer and pulled out some Wild Turkey along with two steel cups.

You heard about the guttings Langdon?

Yeah. You hear about the headless corpse?

For sure. I just had to come out here and see what you got. Mort pulled out a couple files from his brief case.

Langdon, here are the photos at the scene, close up even though we already emailed them to ya.

Yeah, I saw em. Hey how is Angela? My own true love you know. You stole her from me.

What can I say, I was always prettier than your sorry ass.

Hahahaha

We gotta blight Morte. A real blight. I mean we are seeing our animals glow in the dark for chrissakes. All the way from Pierre to Sioux Falls. And murders. Morte, we have this headless corpse and four other dead over the last five years or so THAT WE KNOW ABOUT. We have armadillos, fucking armadillos coming from the south in droves. Do you know I actually saw a two headed squirrel with six goddamn legs haunting one of the witnesses' abode and ...well here we are in the Great Midwest. Things like this are not supposed to happen here. AND I KNOW AND YOU KNOW THIS NORTHCO HAS SOMETHING TO DO WITH IT ALL. ALL OF IT.

You may have something there Langdon. That is why I am here. Well besides the fact that I hate leftovers. The three hunters actually worked for the EPA. No kidding. I grew up with two of the three. They were investigating some strange chemical in the ground water. I do not even know what the fuck it was but they were upset about it.

Well Morte, we have the DOD to contend with, the EPA to contend with, the FBI and Homeland Security is on this and corporate America.

Did you speak with Jim at the AG's office yet?

Yeah. Jim is a good man and he is mad as hell. He told me on the phone that he won't even drink the water. Won't even drink the fucking water in his own home town!!! I mean it is like we are in Florida or some goddamn thing.

I got an insider here Morte. On paper he is supposed to be number three or some such at the South Dakota installation and do you know, even HE DOES NOT KNOW EXACTLY WHAT NORTHCO DOES? What the hell has happened to this country Morte? I mean isn't a company supposed to make things like cars and boars and wagons and guns and then market the damn things and then sell them through distributors. And then our people are hired on and we have America. Right? Sorry to rant Morte. Langdon finished his drink and against his better nature poured another Wild Turkey motioning to his friend.

Okay, but just a drop. I gotta tell you, we all live on the road in South Dakota but there is a dryness to a couple hundred plus miles. Hahahahaha

Morte, if they gutted the hunters this has to be a message of some sort. I mean it was state EPA and not the Feds, so we are once again supposed to cower to the corps and I aint gonna do that. There is an audit coming up and that will be enough for us to get a warrant and all.

The strange part of the gutting though is that there was no blood. No blood whatsoever at the scene, in the bodies, on the bodies, on the ground; I mean nowhere. It was like the blood had been taken from the bodies before the gutting even took place and we know nothing took place at the actual scene. My friends were killed somewhere else, a post mortem completed, and the bodies deposited there.

Morte, can you stick around till sometime tomorrow? You can stay at my place. We can see my insider tomorrow AM. What do you say?

Oh that's fine by me Langdon. I really do not feel like four hours of driving tonight. Besides this WT is acting fastly. Ha!!!

Algernon awoke on Thanksgiving Day, alone. Feast days meant little to him. They had for years meant little to him.

Mom had died of cancer ten years before. Dad had not spoken to him in 15. He had a little brother in Iraq. That was it. No real family to speak of at all. If Davey were back, they would be together, for sure.



He had become sick of hiding who he was. All through his childhood and into college, he had to pretend that he was one of them. Pretend to be someone else. Laugh with the guys when someone told a pussy joke. Hell, he even took Eileen to the prom. It was only later that he realized everyone pretends to be someone else. So what is the diff?

Besides he had been alone for so long. He was beginning to think he was going to lose any ability he once had to interact with people. He had found Thomas, the love of his life. And that was taken from him. And he knew who to blame for that. NORTHCO.

He would now spend all the time he could muster to destroy that company.

Algie lined up the vials, all seventy of them in the fridge. A cooler really with the temp set just right. Algie always kept the cooler in his home office area.

He carefully packed what he would need. He brought up the portable cooler from the cellar and he would drive to Sioux Falls in the morning. He had made an appointment with the State BAC. He had also prepared the memos at home summarizing his work over the last year along with test results he gathered from his work at NORTHCO.

Meanwhile, back in the forests surrounding the projects, Sean and Bernice from accounting were having a Thanksgiving Picnic. Just the two of them along with Sparky.

She was dressed in 17th century garb with all those women's clothes and Sean was dressed as the 17th century pilgrim with the high hat and all. The two had sort of been playing pilgrim games back at Sean's house but that is a scene not directly relevant to these proceedings.

Isn't it strange to picnic up here in the end of November? Sean inquired.

Well, 48 degrees along with a wonderful sun and no wind. This is paradise my love. Bernice noted.

Two huge baskets of the best foods available. They had dressed warmly and each had a small rug to protect them from the coldish ground. Besides they were only two blocks from Sean's house should any untoward wind arise.

Sparky was romping and running and running and romping. A few birds too stupid to believe in the great plague of winter fluttered in the trees. Sean could swear he even saw a butterfly.

As the two lovers toasted their tremendous luck in weather, A cabal of ten armadillos began coming toward them. Well, surrounding them anyway. As they were toasting with their red wine, Sparky returned barking up a storm.

Bernice was at first confused. But when ten more of the armored beasts showed up and ten more after that, her heart began beating too fast and her breath began to leave her.

Sean, on the other hand became angry. He did not become angry often. He usually settled for whatever he could get peacefully. What was the difference? You fight and claw your way through life, or you settle back and take what comes more easily. But lately events had caused him much consternation. His black outs were beginning to get to him.

Seeing the fear in Bernice he stood resolutely, his hat blown off by a mighty breath of wind and recalling Jules' misquote of Ezekiel, he raised his hands to the sky, and addressing the throng of threatening invaders made this pronouncement:

The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he who, in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of the darkness. For he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know I am the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon you."

Even Sparky was astounded at such goings on and immediately fell silent, looking in awe at his master. The beasts immediately disbursed.

Bernice and Sean gathered up their things and walked home.

NORTHCO-16: Shine Little Glow Worm, Glimmer, Glimmer

November 19, 2009, 7:36PM

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Frank awoke as part of his sofa. He looked around and after a couple minutes figured out why he, not so deep down, wished he could just remain part of a sofa.

This vacation thing has got to end before it kills me, he thought as he slugged to the kitchen to fix coffee on his way to the toilet. And I also need new hobbies. A naked woman once in a while could really do me no harm he mused as he held his masculinity once more in his hand.

He grabbed his coffee and wandered toward his PC with a smoke hanging out of his mouth. Where is the packet? he thought. Oh jeeez it could be anywhere. Frank just got on line reviewing his continual NORTHCO memo when there was a knock at the front door.

As he opened the door a rather tall man with a fashionable hat and overcoat stood with his hand out.

Hello Frank.

The guy looked familiar so he simply shook his hand, and kept staring at him.

Remember me Frank?

Dr. Cliché?

You are not who you told me you were, to say the least.

Now why would you say that Frank? I thought we got along rather well.

You do not work at that hospital Doctor, if in fact you are a doctor at all.

Look Frank, do we have to stand in the doorway like this or are you going to offer your shrink a cup of Joe?

Frank thought about it.

What the hell. He said as he led the mysterious figure to his sofa and went into the kitchen for the coffee. When Frank returned, Cliché was at his PC.

Get the fuck away from there. I have almost had it with you Cliché. Now get out of my house.

Now wait a minute Frank, let us...look I do not work for the hospital, but I am a doctor. I assure you and Kevin called me at my clinic in Sioux Falls. I am here at his behest.

Then what in the hell were you doing at my PC?

I was just wandering around, honest. I know little about your work but Kevin consulted with me about your file. You are subject to seizures, loss of memory, and you are getting shorter for no discernable reason. And I have information concerning the tests performed on your clothes.

Well we will see about this Frank said while he put the coffee on the table in front of the couch and grabbed his phone.

Frank got Kevin on the phone and his physician confirmed everything Cliché had told him.

WHY DOES LIFE HAVE TO BE SO GODDAMN CONFUSING?

Cliché blessed himself and lowered his head as he sat down on the couch.

Algie had his lab coat on and was proceeding to the warehouse. Algie had his PhD from Columbia in bioluminescence as a particular and peculiar branch of biology. He had become particularly interested in the process of bioluminenscence in sea life. Algie had written a paper on the phenomena four years earlier for the National Biological Association:


Bioluminescent animals can be found at least half a dozen animal phyla. This includes bioluminescent cnidarians (jellyfish, coral, and sea-pens), ctenophores ("comb jellies"), arthropods (fireflies, glow worms, certain fungus gnats, millipedes, and centipedes), certain annelids, one species of snail, marine molluscs including certain clams, nudibranchs, octopuses, and squids, various fish, some brittle stars, a group of small crustaceans, all krill, 65 species of mushrooms, protists called dinoflagellates, and a large family of bioluminescent bacteria. The last three aren't actually bioluminescent animals, but they are bioluminescent organisms.

Bioluminescence occurs in certain animals where chemical energy (in the form of ATP) is converted into light energy, usually peaking around one portion of the spectrum, making it one color. Green is by far the most common color used by terrestrial bioluminescent animals, while blue is the favored color among bioluminescent animals in the sea. Every color on the spectrum has a bioluminescent animal or protein associated with it, but most colors are quite rare. The difference in favored color on the land and sea exists because different colors stand out in each environment, and the visual systems of animals in each environment are tuned to the local colors.

There are five accepted theories on why bioluminescent animals exist. These are that bioluminescence can perform the functions of camouflage, attraction (of prey, predators of would-be predators, and mates), repulsion by way of confusion, communication between bioluminescent bacteria (quorum sensing), and rarely, the illumination of prey (used by the Black Dragonfish). It can be hard to explain why certain organisms are bioluminescent, while with others, the reasons may be obvious.

For instance, in some species, like fireflies, bioluminescence is so integrated with the organism that it is an integral part of its lifestyle -- firefly larvae use it to repel predators, while adults use it to attract prey and signal to mates. Turn on a light bulb in an insect-infested area and you'll see the benefit of luminescence to attracting prey. Fireflies are extremely efficient at converting chemical energy into light -- they do it with an efficiency of 90%. In contrast, a typical incandescent light bulb is only 10% efficient. http://www.wisegeek.com/what-are-some-bioluminescent-animals.htm

What was so interesting about this is that the phenomena is sooooo great, it can be seen from space. That's right, the light created by these organisms is so great it has been picked up by satellite photos. http://www.lifesci.ucsb.edu/~biolum/organism/milkysea.html



Deep in the ocean, where sunlight can no longer penetrate, lies an incredible world of darkness. And against all odds, this just happens to be the location of one of nature's most impressive artificial light shows. The creatures here have evolved their own ways of dealing with the darkness. Through a process known as bioluminescence, they have developed the ability to use chemicals within their bodies to produce light. If you have ever seen a firefly then you have witnessed the same process in action. Bioluminescence is mainly a marine phenomenon. It is not found in freshwater. On land, it is seen only in a few species of fungi and insects. It is the oceans where this unique ability achieves its highest form. Hundreds of species of fish and invertebrates flash their colors in a light show that can sometimes rival the streets of Las Vegas http://www.seasky.org/deep-sea/biolumiscence.html

Bioluminescence should not be confused with Fluorescence. Bioluminenscence is the emission of visible light either voluntarily or involuntarily by a plant or animal.

Fluorescence is the involuntary emission of light when an organism is being subjected to ultraviolet light.

This is not some trick with ultraviolet light evoking mere fluorescence. These creatures create light through chemical processes. Certainly most of the light is produced from one celled creatures and the simplest of animals, the angel fish. But there are animals akin to something you would behold in some science fiction film:



The paper went to say:



Another process that should not be confused with Bioluminescence is something called tapetum lucidum. This process is commonly known as glowing eyes. When light enters the eye, it's supposed to hit a photoreceptor that transmits the information to the brain, Powell explains. But sometimes the light doesn't hit the photoreceptor, so the tapetum lucidum acts as a mirror to bounce it back for a second chance.

A large number of animals have the tapetum lucidum, including deer, dogs, cats, cattle, horses and ferrets. Humans don't, and neither do some other primates. Squirrels, kangaroos and pigs don't have the tapeta, either.

Although bioluminescence may be considered rare as measured by the total number of species, it is extremely diverse in its occurrence. There are many different types of organisms that produce bioluminescence, from microscopic cells to fish and even a few sharks. But there are no luminescent animals in higher vertebrates above the fish. Overall, luminescent organisms represent most of the major phyla. http://siobiolum.ucsd.edu/Biolum_q&a.html

So even though the tiniest once celled organism might be luminescent, pretty large animals like sharks could also have luminescence. But what if man intervened in all of this?

All cells have the ability to produce ultra-low levels of light due to oxidation of organic molecules such as proteins, nucleic acids, etc. Through a very long process of natural selection, the organisms we call bioluminescent have developed the ability to enhance light production through physiological, molecular, anatomical, and behavioral adaptations. All this because the bioluminescence imparts an important ecological advantage to the organism. It is the ecological context that provides the driving force for natural selection.

In order for an organism to use bioluminescence that has been artificially induced, several criteria need to be met. First, there should be an ecological role for the light emission. Second, there needs to be control of light emission. We know from the study of luminescent organisms that with the exception of bacteria, all organisms have precise control of light emission. To produce light for the wrong reason or at the wrong time is a deadly mistake.

There are futuristic visions of glowing Christmas trees, plants that light up along highways, or even crops that glow when they are thirsty, but this type of light emission doesn't have an ecological context. http://siobiolum.ucsd.edu/Biolum_q&a.html

It was this paper that caused NORTHCO to seek out Algernon and recruit him as a biochemist.

The property of this strange process was certainly chemical, but it was determined by one's DNA.

There were two different 'methods' of making an animal glow that was not originally predestined to glow at all. One method was to inject bacteria into the subject in such a manner as to infect the animal with permanent qualities of bioluminescence--hopefully without causing the animal any other type of harm.

The second way to change the organism was through gene splicing.

The biochemist simply changes the organism into another type of animal forever.And this new animal would reproduce other of its kind that glowed for all generations to come.

NORTHCO was involved in both types of experiments. And those experiments were going awry, to say the least.


(A new chapter appears here every Monday and Thursday, if you really can stomach this stuff, and previous chapters may be viewed at: http://forestroot125.blogspot.com/2009_11_01_archive.html )

NORTHCO-14: Motivational Speaking

http://www.reviewsonline.com/images/ihs00/IHT00051.jpg

Langdon left Frank after a couple hours. It is harder when you do not have intimidation at your disposal.

Fuck subpoenas. What the hell is his probable cause anyway? He came to some conclusions on his way back to his office.

First, he would notify the FBI formally and informally. I mean animals who glow in the dark; maneating animals for chrissakes. And there is only one possible source of all this poison and NORTHCO is the only defense contractor in the area.

Second, he might just as well notify the Forest Service; state and federal. They must have reports on these strange goings on. He might as well pad their files. Besides, he might get some cooperation from them. If there is one place in government you can find real green nuts, it is in the forest services. Talk about tree huggers and they do not like wild droppings glowing in the dark.

Third, he will notify the state and federal EPA. They will wish to cya on this mess. They must look like they are doing something about all this. And with the killings in Pierre are putting this mess in the papers. Besides, there is a whole new ‘team’ running the federal EPA anyway and the old don’t ask-don’t tell rules are out the window.

Fourth, the state Department of Agriculture must get in on this. The blaming will begin soon. NORTHCO will start blaming insecticides and such for any disruption of the environment. But Agriculture will not like everything shoved onto its real constituency…the farmers. Besides, Langdon might get further cooperation from the ag guys and gals. If there is something fucked up about the environment, some evidence is bound to show up in the fields. And the state can deal with the feds on this one.

Fifth, it is a matter of procedure, but he must begin a discussion with the Attorney General’s office. See if the AG can help with some coordination of agencies in all of this. Besides, he seems to remember that Ralph had a little run in with NORTHCO on that murder last year. The wife had been the prime suspect but she ‘disappeared’ and he had the damnedest time getting any information from NORTHCO on anything. This corporate confidentiality coupled with the shield of national security made NORTHCO a more than formidable foe.

Sixth, Langdon thought that it would not hurt to call his old friend Clancy, Majority Whip in the State Senate. The entire frickin legislature is filled with hunters. I mean they cannot be happy about this.

Paper work is not a waste of time. Not at all. There are protocols and paper can open doors. It can also cover asses like Langdon’s. And of course, he was dictating all this on his hand held and of course it was at the same time being transmitted to Sally at the office.

He shoved in a disc and looked around. Something was wrong. I mean the sun was just setting. He looked at the clock…five o’clock. What the hell is this? It could not have been much past noon or one o’clock at the latest when he left Frank’s.

This is not the right road. This is the old road.

Meanwhile his radio was playing one of his favorites. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9ib9I7vW0Ko&feature=PlayList&p=19A9583D35083FB8&playnext=1&playnext_from=PL&index=49
What in the hell is he doing here? When things got like this, I mean when he was really rattled and alone,
there was really only one thing to do.

He pulled over the car to the shoulder and parked. He opened up his coat and thought of his aunt Silvia…..

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I5HEHwYWDzE

Sometime later…

Whoooooooooooooooooooo. Now that’s how I spell relief.

Langdon cleaned up and buckled back up but as he looked out the window of the driver’s side, he saw two glowing balls. He lowered the window and saw two armadillos going at it.

WHAT IN THE HELL IS HAPPENING TO THE STATE OF SOUTH DAKOTA?

Meanwhile back at the office, Sean was cleaning up. This double work load was getting to him. Son of a bitch he thought. Just then Sphincter jaunted in on him.

Where the hell are my f-46’s &49’s. How do you expect me to run this place without knowing the personnel situation and the income for the week?

Normally, I……aw forget it. Here are the fucking forms, Sean said while he handed them to his boss. You know it’s not easy doing two jobs. We are only down four today…not bad for the flu season. Income is up but you already know that because we received the anticipated bonuses from DOD and Xe. So LIGHTEN THE FUCK UP.

Adrenaline does funny things to certain mammals. Sean was a wuss. But he knew he was a wuss. He certainly never wished to be a hero. It was too difficult attempting to separate the good guys from the bad, the wheat from the chaff. He just wanted a simple life. Get up in the morning in a decent abode. Grab some coffee while reading a little news. Then clean up and get to the office. At the office, receive your list of tasks for the day and then get the fuck out of there.

That’s it in a nutshell. Hope the corp does well so that you may keep your job. But do not take any of it seriously. Others were put on this planet to make a difference. Corporations were there to sell ‘stuff’. What that stuff would be, where the financing would come from….it really had nothing to do with him. Sean was always put in some slot where he would moniter certain aspects of the goings on and duly report variances and such to his superior. That is why it was so easy to work with Frank. He knew Frank really never gave a damn either. He was just happy to have someone like Sean around. Someone who performed the tasks demanded, refrained from bitching about anything, and reported certain matters off the record.

It is all a function of what Sean called the corporate proto-conscious. This crap about how somehow if I assume I make an ass out of you and as out of me. We are all asses, us humans and to pretend to be other than…well it’s the real stupidity.

You do not think about anything in particular when you take a shower, unless you are considering certain mammalian urges at the time. Of course you assume the water is the correct temp after testing it through the curtain or door. You assume where the soap is even when you drop it. You assume where the shampoo and the liquid soap are. You assume that when you step out of the shower the floor of the bathroom will not only be in tact as you exit but that it will be at a certain level. You of course assume where the fricking towel is….you are simply proto-conscious the entire time while your mind takes you to other times and places.

As a matter of fact, the way to start a bad day is to experience things that rattle your assumptions and throw you out of protoconsciousness. For instance, you get into the shower and reach for the soap and it is not there, it is not where it is supposed to be.

Or as you don your work shirt for the day, possibly following a conscious choice of the proper shirt, your third button breaks off. Oh good, now I must put my attention to mundane things. Shite….Now the soap placement as well as the shirt button have thrown you off your game. As a matter of fact, in your agitated state you begin to ascribe consciousness to the shirt and to the soap and to the toilet that will not stop running and…

Well you assume that if the computer print out says you have so much money that week available for personnel and supplies, then there is so much money so available. You must, as part of your assigned duties check and recheck the figures through other software and other contacts—or else have someone else whom you trust perform those duties. And that is the reason you were picked for the position you find yourself in with regard to the corporation. The corporation cannot, EVER, afford to have conscious people working on its payroll.

But you never question whether or not the particular duties ascribed to a particular governmental contract are good for the corporation, good for the governmental people involved, good for the public or good for the environment. That is against protocol, that is against corporate interests and, most importantly, that is in violation of specific terms of your employment contract. Hell that is anti-AMERICAN.

Sean thought about the motivational seminar held on the first floor auditorium on Tuesday. He could still see the broad with the fake smile looking like she belonged on a set with John Popeil. At least Popeil did not look like Andrea Mitchell. Here was this 55 year old woman attempting to look like she was 35 spouting all this crap about teamwork. The united purpose.

Like in Monty Python’s Holy Grail, the peons are piling the manure. And Eric Idle is complaining as he performs his important ‘job’; but as he spouts his discontent in Marxist Dialectic. As long as the son of a bitchin peon is piling the manure in the proper manner, let him spout. That is what I say.

Sean actually studied in High School and in his undergraduate curriculum. So he knew when she was quoting St. Clement of Alexandra or Ralph Waldo Emerson. Even Thorton Wilder was quoted:

See the lofty by reading, hearing and seeing great work at some moment every day.

Or even a Kraut by the name of Von Herder:

Without inspiration, the best powers of the mind remain dormant, there is a fuel in us which needs to be ignited with sparks.

This is so much bullshit. Thorton Wilder would have nothing to do with the modern day corporation any more than than Socrates would have anything to do with a Socratic Methodological Law School. I mean who decided that this crap works? The corporation does not wish to ignite anything. Hell if these employees woke up one day, I mean really woke up they would show up with automatic weapons and go completely postal.

Corporations have more rights than individuals. At least those corps run by the smartest part of the grand oligarchs. They hide their secrets better than cheney hid his treachery. Paper trails are prepared so that when something goes wrong—which means someone was caught—there is someone down the line to be properly blamed.

And too much motivation fucks up the works. In order to be motivated one should know what the product is and why the product is important to the public, or customer or governmental unit or other corporation.

And most employees in most corporations do not stick around all that long anyway. Five years is normal and ten years extraordinary. Yet the motivational seminars ask for true allegiance to the PLAN, to the AIMS, to the ORGANIZATION.

WHAT A BUNCH OF CRAP.

Therefore it is the hidden message in these seminars; actually several hidden messages.

Your production had better increase over the next thirty or sixty day period or you are out.

Your smile had better be more pronounced over the same period.

Your acknowledgement of fiefdom toward the company and your superiors had better be more pronounced.

Your subtle acknowledgement of fear, fear for your future, fear for future references, fear for loss of your paycheck better be present at all relevant times.

So the hidden message in all these seminars is FEAR.

WELL SOMETIMES I JUST GET SICK AND TIRED OF ALL THAT FEAR.

Sean thought all these things as he gazed upon the body of Sphincter lying in a pool of blood on the floor of his office. Ha. What a look this guy has. Even in death that damn sneer is more than just evident. As Sean caught his breath he looked down at the letter opener in his hand.

It had been a gift from his school mates in graduate school. Actually Fanny had given it to him. This simple office tool that few in management ever used, was shaped like a grand Saracen’s sword. It was curved and beautifully inscribed. Sean always kept it sharp and shiny. I mean it just slid right into this asshole’s gut, like those Ron Popeil commercials on cable. The ones with the knives that run right through a tomato or a loin so smoothly, like knife through butter at room temperature.

He gutted the corpse from the groin up to the rib cage and scooped all the innerts into the bag on the tiled floor.

Sean wiped the blood off the blade. Of course he licked it first. Just for the thrill of it. This was the third time in as many years. He suddenly looked down at himself and noticed the blood all over his clothes. Yuck.

But it had to be done. Zoey told him it had to be done. Oh and he was thirsty. Time for a brewsky at Castle.

Quickly he undressed, carefully folding his blood splattered clothes, before placing them in the garbage bag. He went into his office bathroom and showered. While in his robe he went into his closet and dressed for the second time that day. This time the shirt he had chosen worked.

Sean took the back stairs toting the garbage bag up to the fourth floor. He deposited the bag inside a door that said: CLEAN UP IN AISLE V. He took the stairs down to the first floor and exited the building, heading for the Castle.

Boy I could really use some of that fine house ale right now Sean mused.

Bernice had been waiting at the Castle for about half an hour, nursing her ale when a tall Black man came by and sat down at her table.

Hi, I am Zoey.

I’m sorry, Bernice blushed, but I am waiting for someone.

Oh Sean will be with us shortly Bernice.

How do you know me, my name?

Zoey slowly went into the inside pocket of his suit coat and pull out a badge. He opened it for Bernice to see.

It read simply: Security-NORTHCO Zoe Miller Head of Security

But I have been working for NORTHCO for five years and never met you.

I am around, as they say. 79 cameras just on the three floors alone Bernice. I just thought it was time that we met. There are only a few who I interface with during a typical week. Sean is one of them.

Oh. Bernice was a little confused over all this. And because of her recent meetings with Frank and Sean she was more than mildly suspicious of exactly why the head of security was introducing himself at this particular moment.

Is there any specific information you need from me, I mean in your official capacities? Bernice began working on her mug of ale with a little more intensity.

Oh, I just knew that Sean would be a little late; he is taking care of some last minute clean up for me.
And he told me that you might be meeting him later here. But, as long as we are here and all, how are things over in accounting?

Well Zoe, as you know we have completed a full report for shareholders on the fiscal year that just ended in September and now we must do a comparison to our calendar year projections. All these materials go to the independent auditor sometime in the next two weeks, you know.

A busy time Bernice I am sure. But I had heard that there was some problem with receivables. That is, there appeared to be a discrepancy between the monies sent from the government and the actual deposits.

I am surprised that security would deal with something like this Mr. Miller. I already had a meeting with Mr. Sphincter and his adjutant…I forget his name…yesterday morning. We thought that there was a problem at the bank. You realize we use a local bank—that is really owned by NORTHCO—and we have had scuffles with the principals there over a few issues including charges.

Well Bernice, that is what I heard. But this is for your ears only. Understand.

Bernice just looked at him.

I wish to tell you something that is for your ears only Bernice. Understand?

Oh, I am sorry, of course. Yes I am all ears.

Sphincter had a secret account at a bank in Michigan. We discovered some $350,000.00 there and we discovered a clerk at the bank who had a ‘special’ relationship with this Sphincter. It turns out that he has been funneling funds to that account for over two years.

Oh that does not make my department look real good, does it?

No Bernice, we checked you out. You are pure as the first snow cover and we even found fourteen separate memos by you, directed to Sphincter, about your concerns. You did your duty, that is for sure.

Just then Sean appeared carrying his own mug.

Hey Sean, everything taken care of? Inquired Zoe.

Oh for sure Zoey. For sure.

Did you leave proper instructions as we discussed?

CLEAN UP ON AISLE V.

GREAT.

NORTHCOXII-Secret Agent Man

Frank awoke. Where...oh god the hospital again. Fear almost paralyzed him but he could move his fingers and toes. It was just a dream; a dream of previous torture.
He looked around, recognized his situation, and began to rise.

But I cannot rise, he thought. He was chained to the bed.

Reminds me of an overnight I had in Bangkok. Hahahahah.

Just then the door opened to his private room. In walked a man in his late thirties with a white coat and badge along with a stethoscope around his neck. He was carrying a medical file along with a pad.
Frank, I see you are awake.

Uh, yeah. For sure. Say, can you do something about these restraints?

Frank I am Dr. Cliché.

Nice to meet you Doc, but can you do something about these restraints.

Open your eyes Frank. Cliché moved to the right side of the bed and sat down on the chair provided.

Frank opened his eyes. There were no restraints. What the hell.......

Would you like something to drink Frank?

It was like his mouth and throat were sealed shut. Fear gripped Frank again. Cliché brought him a glass of water from the loo. Take this slowly, slowly...that's it.

Slowly Frank sipped the liquid and his mouth and throat opened up. He sat up and noticed an intravenous tube in his left arm. Other than that, he was free. And he felt that relief; like he had had a long sleep.

Dr. Criche, I ...how long have I been here?

Your chart says two days Frank. And I am Cliché, like the French snap shot. Got it?

Cliché, right, got it. With that he pulled the tube out of his arm. The doctor applied some antiseptic to the wound and covered it with a bandage.

Thanks.

Do you know why you are here Frank?

I think I had a seizure. But I was in this dream; one of those real dreams. And instead of forgetting the experience as I do with most of my dreams, the plot...so to speak...is permanently etched onto my brain.

Well, I am your assigned therapist Frank. I am a psychiatrist. Only the best for management in NORTHCO you realize. Anyway, tell me about this dream.

A couple weeks ago, I was driving on the old road out of town. The one they closed off. I am not sure how I got there really. My car shut down or I stopped to look at something. I am not really sure.

I awoke on the steps of my friend's home. Everything is a blur as far as that period of what turned out to be three days.

And your current dream?

Well there I am, on the side of the road and outside of my car. Now I must preface this with an insight I have had from some prior dream experiences. I feel this paralysis. It is a slow process. Like my arms and legs become real heavy and my sight begins to go. And the situation becomes worse and worse and everything appears to get slower and slower. And the fear just grips me. I mean I am a grown man, a man with a responsible position with an important company and yet I am gripped with fear.

You ever wake up and find that you have wet the bed?

No. Never happened. Well wait a minute. My wife told me I did once. But I have no recollection.

Oh, you are married? Yes, well no. Not any more. The papers were signed a couple months ago, but I have been living alone for a long time; a year and a half actually.

Frank continued to relate the 'plot' of this dream while Dr. Cliché dutifully took notes.

Time, Doctor, it is time that I am missing. That is what really scares me. Although I am not in a hurry to catch a nap if you catch my meaning.

Following the session, Frank got up and went to the loo and then found his clothes in the closet provided.

I do not think you should leave right now Frank. It is not a good idea. You are in here for observation and such. They wish to take tests; certainly an EEG, an EKG and an MRI. We must scan your brain Frank.

Well I will set up something with the front desk later on Doc. I promise.

And with that Frank left the hospital for the parking ramp, got into his car and drove home.

He drove up to the house opened the garage door, parked and exited. He almost tripped over that goddamn bike again. EXCEPT HE DID NOT HAVE A BIKE. Now calm down, he thought. Look you are an epileptic. You have known this for at least five years now. You forget things....
Frank got into his kitchen and grabbed a beer from the fridge. He opened his secret drawer and pulled out a pack of cigs along with a lighter.

Sitting on his sofa, taking a deep drag from his favorite tube, he thought about his life. They are not going to let me keep working here. I have to make some arrangements.

And what exactly did he tell the shrink? Hell, Dr. Cliché seemed like a nice guy and all, but the NORTHCO Med Center was not the safest place for him to let his guard down. And speaking of guards, he should not have let his guard down to a potential guard employed by the corp.

He grabbed his phone from the coffee table and called the hospital. He still had the card in his top pocket.

NORTHCO Med Center. What can I do for you Frank?

How the hell does she know who I am? This is freaky.

How do you know my name?

Your ID Frank; it shows up right here on my receiver.

Do you know me?

Of course Frank. I met you at the Castle that one night. My name is Melanie.

Small town, everybody knows everybody I guess. Searching his mental files....Oh hi Melanie. I am sorry, getting old I suppose.

Oh Frank they made quite a fuss here a few minutes ago. You were not supposed to leave you know. But Dr. Creighton has a note here telling me to get some tests scheduled.

Frank thought for a sec.

Well Melanie, how about an appointment with Dr. Cliché?

Who?

Dr. Cliché, the shrink Melanie. Spent the morning with me.

Melanie paused. There is no Dr. Cliché at this center Frank. Never heard of a Dr. Cliché.

Frank looked down to the inside of his elbow. There was the bandage.

Click. Frank hung up the phone. His hand dropped the phone almost involuntarily. He felt his pate getting damp again. Like he had just drank an entire bottle of hot sauce. Geez what time is it anyway? Frank clicked on cable and drank down the beer. Seemed like one long gulp.

Suddenly cable came on:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S9O5DU6i3g4

Sean woke up alone. Bernice had evidently left early. What a night. That woman could make him feel so goooooooooood. And he could smell her presence. Strange; but so nice.

He went to the kitchen a made some espresso. He grabbed a paper while the machine steamed. The Pierre Gazette, all fifteen pages of it. Thank god he also had the New York Times delivered at the same time.

GIANT STAG SHOT. NO SURVIVORS

What in the hell does that mean? No survivors? Must be those newbie interns from the college taking over the paper again. He grabbed his coffee and dropped down on his sofa, paper in hand. He leaned over the coffee table and turned on cable.

AP: Yesterday a giant stag was shot dead about twenty miles outside of Pierre. The hunting season does not begin for another week in this rural country. So the Highway Patrol was flummoxed when the team discovered the grand prey just off one of the main highways.

Three hunters, with full regalia were found less than 25 yards from the prize carcass. Their bodies had been drained of all blood after being gutted. The full autopsy report from the country coroner will not be published until next week according to Officer Barnes.

There is no way of telling how the locals lost their lives. No evidence of illegal conduct except the hunting itself. Assuming they were responsible of course for the death of the Stag. After the bodies were removed to the office of the country coroner, I had the grand stag transported to my barn for safe keeping. I have a refrigeration unit there.

The 35 point buck was the greatest single treasure ever found in the wild in these parts, said the Officer.

The officer added that the nearby deer droppings glowed blue.

Holy shite, Sean thought. Since half his coffee was now on the paper he rushed to the kitchen carefully fixing another brew as he deposited the paper in the sink.

Nothing of course regarding Thomas or Algernon or Frank. You know what we need here...here in the godforsaken projects? A NORTHCO Web Alert. Yeah An Alert!!!

Yeah, how long would that stay up?

Sparky wandered in and Sean took him for a quick walk. Good dog actually. Never acts up. Nothing ever destroyed in the home after he returned late from the office.

Sean shaved and showered and whatever and went to the office, early again. Frank would not be around the rest of this week. That was for sure. And as he arrived at the center in the shuttle, he saw the maintenance crew at work, again, on the driveway that led to the warehouse in the lower level.

Meanwhile, Bernice had made it home. I mean it was only ten blocks and the walk did her good. She was humming. No need for Extenz or any nonsense like that, she mused. Sean was a keeper.

She went through the garage door via the code. Her car was at the office parking facility of course. As she went through the door to her kitchen she noticed the wagon. She does not have a wagon. What the hell is that doing here?

Bernice got the green tea and put the bags and the cute little pot she received from her sister Suzanne into the microwave. She showered and the tea was waiting for her as she poured a cup of relief and made it to her sofa for the local news.

Bernice loved the local news. In the morning this guy with a rug that would scare Sean's doggy, read the script provided as best he could. 45 and sunny. That aint bad for November, she thought.
Nothing that exceptional by way of news; Judge Andrews was caught driving drunk again. Her brother had actually gone to school with the old sot. According to what her parents had told her, three decades ago there would have been no arrest, no booking. And now Andrews would be through as a judicial officer forever.


As she finished her tea and prepared to dress for work, she noted a strange line moving across the bottom of her television screen:

FBI INVESTIGATING NORTHCO.