Beast Machine (8 page)

Again, the information Gora
had pumped into her beast wasn’t able to be readily applied to
actual situations; the information was definitely there, yet not
even Owlbert could apply it or readily understand it as it floated
through his mind.

Owlbert looked up from his
books as Gora came close.

“
Hallo! Vas must du need? I
am trying to find out vich type of ‘soldier’ vee must make,”
cheeped Owlbert delightfully. He did not have any facial
hair
, considering he was a
bird, but a clump of snow white feathers formed near the base of
his beak to create the look of a mustache. His mustache was a part
of his signature look as a human, not quite as signature as
Hitbear’s human form, but still important.

Gora pushed her lips to the
right of her mouth. Her nose flared. She had
trepidations.

“
Vas ist it?” asked Owlbert
as he spread his wings and yawned. His attention was mostly on his
books.

“
I just don’t think we
should use the term ‘soldier’ since the next beast will have a
personality, memories, their own thoughts – just like you – just
like Hitbear! I have been thinking it over and I just don’t like
the idea of creating soldiers, especially mindless
soldiers.”

“
Hmm,” said Owlbert. “This
ist different than vas I was researching…” He clawed at a few of
his books lackadaisically, and then he began to swat a few books
away from his sight. He appeared to be searching for a certain
book. Gora looked on with confusion as she watched the owl struggle
with searching through a large pile of books.

“
Should I help him?”
thought Gora. “Maybe I should have tried to give him another
electronic tablet?”

“
AH! I found eet!”
exclaimed Owlbert. “This ist thee ein! Du vant personality? Du vant
important memories? Du vant unique thoughts? Right here, Frau
Gora!”

Owlbert pointed her to a
ragged, large tome at the bottom of the book pile. The spine was
holding onto the rest of the book by the thinnest of margins. This
book had been beaten to hell and back.

Gora blew the dust off the
book and tried to read the title of the tome. Or what was left of a
title.

“
There’s a few letters on
the front; an
a
,
an
r
, a
t
, I think?” said Gora. It
didn’t make any sense. “What is this, Owlbert? I don’t understand!
Are you playing some sort of joke?” Her eyes squinted at the title
again, trying to decipher it.

“
It ist ein book about zee
Underground Railroad; one of zee most important movements in
American history! Ist not ein real locomotive, but ein movement to
free slaves! Du should know – it’s in your library!” He flung open
his left wing to point at the countless other books remaining in
Gora’s book collection. “It’s also part of American history, your
home nation!”

“
Well – yes I know about
the Underground Railroad – but what does it say on the front? It’s
scraped away.” More dust fell from the tome. It was a broken piece
of literature among other pristine books found in Gora’s
collection. She couldn’t recollect where she received this book or
how it even came to be in her personal library.

Owlbert frowned. “Does this
American child really have no idea what this book says,” thought
Owlbert. Owlbert grabbed a nearby ink pen and wrote on a piece of
paper, quite elegantly for an owlbeast,
Harriet Tubman
then briskly slid the
paper to Gora. He clicked his beak in frustration.

CLICK, click-click, CLICK,
click-click
.

“
Harriet Tubman, huh?” said
Gora looking at the beautifully written note. She flipped through
the tattered pages. “Her list of achievements is quite incredible
for humankind.” Gora stopped on a page that had a picture of
Harriet Tubman sitting in a wicker chair. “This is who we need to
help us. I can’t believe I didn’t think of her from the beginning.
But I’ll have to see if I can get my hands on a real photograph of
her. This picture in the book may not work correctly.”

Gora admired the dusty,
dilapidated book for several minutes. She eyed the handful of black
and white photos of Harriet Tubman. She was a sturdy woman that
wore a plain dress and a bandana; she also happened to save many
lives from slavery.

“
My word,” swooned Gora. “I
am so happy I created you! You knew exactly what we needed!” Gora
gripped Owlbert and hugged him tightly.

Owlbert squawked and
flapped his wings. “OK! OK! Frau Gora please stop! OK! OK!” laughed
Owlbert, more nervously than happily.

Gora let go of Owlbert and
began to twirl about the laboratory. She twirled to her tiny radio
in the middle of the laboratory and turned it on. She began to
dance to the pop music seeping out of the speakers.

“
I am going to get my
revenge, la la la boom, going cut all their throats, la la la
slice, going to make their families feel grief, la la la ha!” sang
Gora horribly. An electronic instrumental now came through the
speakers. Gora continued to add her own lyrics.

During the strange
performance, Hitbear and Owlbert found themselves next to one
another as Gora kept singing and dancing and being unusual. The
pair of beasts were slowly accepting the bizarre nature of Gora. It
was endearing in a way.

“
This is awfully weird and
deranged,” said Hitbear as he playfully patted Owlbert on the
head.

“
Ja, even for du? Oh, vell.
Vee must abide by zee creator! To make her happy,” said Owlbert as
he became relaxed by the patting. The owl-beast’s eyes flittered
delightfully.

“
La la la poof, maybe dip
them in some acid!” continued Gora, her voice dripping heavily with
bloodlust.

“
So who did you two decide
on for our mega soldier?” asked Hitbear continuing to gently pat
the half-man, half-bird. “Whatever we’re calling it.”

“
La la la snip, put some
fish hooks through their mouth!” continued Gora.

“
I don’t think vee vere
ever going to make ein-uhm ‘Mega-Soldier’ but vee decided on zee
one und only Harriet Tubman! One of zee most integral human beings
in American history!” stated Owlbert, still exceptionally relaxed
from the patting he was receiving from Hitbear. “Gora has decided
to change up zee plan; vee vill be taking the revenge into our own
hands!”

“
La la la chop-chop, mince
them up, mince them up!” continued Gora. Her movements became
sporadic and animalistic.

“
I’m quite fine with taking
this into our own hands, but a Negro?” questioned Hitbear
loudly.

Suddenly, Gora stopped
dancing and singing. She sprinted over to Hitbear and punched him
in his thick bear mouth.

“
WHAT DID YOU SAY?”
screamed Gora with unbridled vocal strength; Owlbert and Hitbear’s
sphincters clenched tightly. Neither had been so terrified of a
tiny human like this before. “She’s daunting,” thought Hitbear once
again.

“
I didn’t say anything!”
gasped Hitbear as he gripped his stump arm, a constant reminder of
his insubordination. “Please, creator no! I don’t know what I did,
but I didn’t do it purposefully!” Gora gripped tightly to the fur
on Hitbear’s chest, as the beast cowered.

As Gora began to withdraw
her knife to slice Hitbear’s other paw off, the radio screeched
with a loud buzzer –
BMMMMPPPPHHH
– then began to ring out:

This is a public service
announcement per the Arkansas State Radio Service.

There has been a third
candidate included on the ticket to fill the seat of Governor of
the state of Arkansas. Elections will take place this coming fall.
Here is more information on the third candidate.

Misanthropic billionaire
businessman and philanthropist, Chairman Obelis, has announced that
he will enter in the race to become the next Governor of Arkansas!
He will be running in the Philanthropist Party – which he just
created this morning – and will be supported by world-renowned
scientist: Takeo Silva.

Gora’s grip on Hitbear’s
chest fur lessened. Hitbear began to stand up straight and withdraw
from his cowering stance. He focused on Gora’s eyes, which were
open wide and strained. She was sweating profusely.

Silva is known for
creating a vaccine that eliminated feline AIDS, but took immoral
measures to create the vaccine. He is heavily opposed by animal
rights groups. It is speculated that he will take a position in
Obelis’ cabinet should Obelis become Governor. More information on
Doctor Silva will likely be known when the first debate for the
Arkansas gubernatorial race occurs in Bella Vista.

The reclusive billionaire,
Chairman Obelis, has stated he wants to be more involved in the
political process for the “greater good” of humanity. The full
details of Obelis’ campaign remain a mystery, but will likely be
known at the aforementioned gubernatorial debate in Bella
Vista.

Gora dropped her knife and
began to struggle to control her breathing.

Chapter 8

Teach a Man to
Fish

Standing still in an open
field, Chairman Obelis looked through binoculars, with those
binoculars’ straps draped across his chest. To the north laid a
thicket, to the east nothing but open, rugged land for miles, to
the south an abandoned mining facility and to the west the sun on
the horizon – once the sun set, one could see the beginnings of a
dense forest to the west. Beyond that dense forest, a scrappy,
smelly trailer park full of workers lived. “This would be the
perfect spot,” thought Chairman Obelis. “The perfect spot to
continue my ultimate plan.”

“
Send for the construction
materials, architects and refurbishers, Jeffrey,” said Chairman
Obelis to his assistant. “Make sure someone has knowledge on modern
architecture. I want it to look keen.”

“
Yes, sir. As you wish,”
nodded Jeffrey as he walked slowly back to the black SUV parked at
what used to be the parking lot for the miners that could afford
cars. It was mostly gravel and dirt with no parking lines. Once
inside the SUV, he grabbed a handheld radio.

“
Time to strike. Send in
the construction crew immediately. Bring the assigned equipment for
the refurbishers too,” ordered Jeffrey. “Also, make sure one of
those architects knows about modern architecture – it’s a must. Not
post-modern either – just simply modern, got it?” The handheld
radio buzzed back and Jeffrey seemed pleased. He tossed it back
into the SUV.

Jeffrey watched his boss,
Chairman Obelis, from the SUV. Chairman Obelis, a tall, slender but
sturdy man, was slowly twirling around pointing robotically:
pointing at the thicket to the north, pointing at the nothingness
to the east, pointing to the factory to the south and pointing to
the sun slowly fading in the west. Chairman Obelis’ actions were
bizarrely cute to Jeffrey, since they were rare actions.

Chairman Obelis had always
been quite exuberant with his passions, albeit his exuberance was
rarely shown. He normally wore a look of boredom, never cracking a
smile during business deals. His bored look often gave off the
feeling that he could go elsewhere to make a deal, so this scared
potential business partners of trying to lowball or con Chairman
Obelis.

Often times when dealing
with overzealous persons, he drove a hard bargain to make sure
the
little people
didn’t get trampled on, which normally led to him losing most
of his own share. It was what he felt was necessary when dealing
with hardheaded and selfish persons. Regardless, he still wore that
look of boredom.

He was one of the few
businessmen in the world that legitimately gave to charities –
instead of creating a faux charity to use as a tax deduction – and
helped
try
to turn
peoples’ lives around, though he rarely put himself in the
spotlight. Fame was not a goal of his, nor was he about granting a
journalist access into his life to paint him in an incorrect
light.

Chairman Obelis avoided the
press at all costs because he wanted to live a “stress-free” life
at home. He avoided the press so often that he created devices that
would render a journalist’s recorder useless, devices that would
melt the memory cards of photographer’s cameras, and devices that
caused would-be intruders to receive painful headaches, among other
devices that Chairman Obelis had in his arsenal against the press.
He wanted to do his good deeds, not rake in the glory. Jeffrey was
his liaison to the world.

Jeffrey never questioned
his boss’ tactics because Jeffrey knew his boss was an intelligent
man that knew how to run businesses properly. “Why question what
works?” Jeffrey would often think.

But now, becoming quite
bored with the business world, Chairman Obelis wanted to get into
the political racket. He wanted to go beyond just helping people;
he wanted to guide people so that
he
could make the right decisions for them. He knew
that you could give people money, scholarships, housing, healthcare
and perfect options, but people would always find ways to ruin it.
He knew that humans were full of an incredible amount of faults,
genetically and otherwise, and those faults would ultimately end
humanity, intentionally or not. He had almost no faith in the
general populace of humanity, though he cared deeply about nearly
all humans.