Eddy's Current (29 page)

Peterson would have only three top officials. And he would have only people who could be molded to do things as Peterson wanted them done. Peterson wanted people who would shut up and do as they were told. He also didn’t want a large group. He would have a chief of staff, a military commander — who would command exactly as he was told to command — and a person in charge of the world’s natural resources. Peterson was not interested in big names. He, alone, would be the big name associated with the WWCA.

Dante Hall would be charged with the administrative details of running the WWCA. Hall was Peterson’s number one patsy. Martin Samuel, Hall’s number one patsy and Peterson’s number two, would jump when Hall said to jump. Hall was to jump when Peterson told him to jump. Hall would speak when he was told to talk, and he would keep quiet when Peterson told him to shut up. Hall would serve as chief of staff; Samuel would serve as chief of nothing. Peterson would serve as president, and there would be no vice president. There would be no contingency plan, no line of succession.

Both Hall and Samuel had become bold over the past few months. They had become opinionated, and had even become forceful with their proposals. They had begun to see themselves as leaders in their own right instead of as Peterson’s ambassadors who had no rights of their own. The two minions had decided to impress their master at this meeting with their newfound assertiveness. In preparation for today’s meeting they had researched for months to come up with qualified candidates for the position of World Natural Resource Minister.

Peterson, Hall and Samuel sat down to discuss the position and the prospective candidates while Stuart Gualt waited in the outer office. “We want someone who has credentials,” Samuel said, in a tone that spoke of the authority he wished he had. “These three résumés are outstanding.

“The first is Conrad Paulson, from IX Corp. He’s first rate. PhD from Harvard in business administration, PhD from California State in geology. Twenty–year career handling the biggest of the big international real estate transactions. Then ten years as president of IX. IX Corp’s worldwide real estate holdings are more valuable than any corporation in the world. The man is hugely successful. No one can compare.

“No. Next,” Peterson replied.

“Well, let’s see,” Hall said. “We have Richard Moss. Also a double PhD. His are from Princeton and MIT. Master’s degree in real estate from the Wharton School. Experienced in international real estate transactions. Specialized consultant. Considered a genius for his schemes used to develop mountainous regions into communities. His clients typically go into a poor and desperate country and buy millions of acres of unused land in mountainous areas. Moss begins the process of developing them into communities—into fully functioning towns and cities. But after the initial development is well underway, the land becomes a thousand times more valuable. Moss and his partners sell out, abandoning the development project, taking billions in profits with them, and leaving the country with the mess. This guy’s brilliant.”

“I don’t know who your third candidate is, but skip it. I’m going with Stuart Gualt. He’s the one,” Peterson said.

“Gualt is a middle manager, an unknown nobody, with a bachelor’s degree. I thought you told us that you wanted him on board as a senior supporter, but not a government official,” Hall said.

That was the wrong thing to say to Peterson.

“Perhaps you didn’t hear me, Dante.”

“Yes, sir. I heard you.”

“Then you will be pleased with my choice.”

Peterson rose from his chair, walked to his door and opened it. “Stew. Please join us,” Peterson said, calling out to his outer office. “Come in. That’s right. Have a seat right there next to Mr. Hall,” Peterson said, as he closed his office door.

Samuel interjected, “Mr. Peterson, I think we’re concerned that we need the best in the world. We need a person with clout.”

Peterson sat in his chair.

“Mr. Gualt has knowledge. I need knowledge. I’ll personally have all the clout needed. Gualt knows where the world’s minerals are. He knows the gold mines. He knows where the natural resources are. He knows where the oil is. We need someone who knows, not someone who rules. I will rule. Do you understand me? I alone will rule.

“I’ve heard words here today that trouble me. I don’t wish to hear them again. Here are a few of them: 1. ‘we want,’ referring to what you want; 2. ‘well, let’s see,’ referring to what you see; 3. ‘I think,’ referring to what you think.”

Peterson rose from his desk and leaned forward, his hands planted firmly on the top of his desk.

“Now, gentlemen, you are to want what I say you are to want. If I say you are to want food, you will hunger and I will provide food for you to eat. If I say you are to want water, you will thirst and I will give you water to drink. If I say that you are sad, you are to cry. If I say read, I expect that you will pick up a book,” Peterson continued, as he began to strut around the office. His voice had elevated steadily as he spoke. He was now beginning to shout, “You will drop bombs for me if I ask. Do you hear me! I said that you will drop bombs for me when I need something destroyed!” He began to storm about the room, stomping as he walked, and he began to scream each syllable with emphasis. “Do! — You! — Un! — Der! — Stand! — Me!”

“You will see what I tell you to see! You will do as I say you will do! And you will think what I want you to think! If I tell you to move, you will move! If I tell you to act, you will act! If I tell you to father children, you will father children! If I tell you to kill, you will pick up your weapons and slaughter! Do! — You! — Un! — Der! — Stand! — Me!”

“Tomorrow! Tomorrow! You will see the definition of loyalty tomorrow. Do! — You! — Un! — Der! — Stand! — Me!

“Then you will see. You will see! Those who know Mr. Peterson and want him to soar will prove their loyalty tomorrow. But you three are probably saying to yourselves, ‘Why wait? Why wait? Why not show Mr. Peterson today? Why not now? Why not prove ourselves to him?’ To you much will be given, because to whom much is given, much is taken. You will be taken. You will be taken. You will be taken. Tomorrow you will ascend with me, to heights unimaginable! I will take you with me. I! — Will! — Take! — You! — With! — Me!

“Look at me. Look at me. I can fly. I can fly. No, even more than that, I invented flight. I am flight. The spirit invented flight. I am the very essence of the magic of flight. Do you see? Do you see? Look. What do you think of me now? Now that I am in the spirit. I am in the spirit. I am in the spirit. I am the spirit. When you are in the spirit, you are in me and I am in you. My spirit will save you. I am your only hope. I am your only hope. I! — Am! — Your! — Oon! — Lee! — Hope!

“I am your savior. I am the savior of the world. In the beginning I Am, and I was with God and I Am God. The same was in the beginning that was in the beginning. I Am, since eternity past, and I Am into eternity future. Go from here, to every corner of the world, and the entire universe — all of my domain — and tell them all, in my name, that I sent my spirit to this world to save this world. You will be saved. You will all be saved. I offer you that salvation. Please save yourselves. Please save yourselves. Accept me. Accept me.

“Starting tomorrow, many will come in my name. They will say ‘I am Peterson. I am Peterson.’ Ask to see their fruit. Ask to see their fruit. I produce fruit. I produce fruit. Remember that you don’t have to fear them. I will say to them, ‘Depart from me, I never knew you, you workers of evil.’

“If your hapless god would accept me, he would be nearly omnipotent. He would still be under me, but he would be powerful. His spirit would be nearly as powerful as mine. Still, he would not be able to fly like I can fly. Look, I am flying. I — Am — Fly — Ing! I am flight. I! — In! — Ven! — Ted! — Flight! I am flight. I am the very essence of the miracle of flight. Remember! Remember! Remember what I told you? Watch, I will show you wondrous things. I will show you.”

Peterson torpedoed up from a squat position, landing on his stomach, on the top of his desk, slashing many of the items there violently to the floor as he thrust up onto the desk. Then he lay out on the surface of the desk, turning from one side to the other, flopping around as a squid would do out of water. He began to scream and flop wildly, then he simulated flight by laying on his stomach with his arms and legs raised and outstretched.

“See me fly? See your savior fly? Pay close attention. Pay close attention. I am flight. My spirit is out of control. My spirit is in you now. It is in you now. Can you feel it? Can the three of you feel it? Tomorrow is a special day. Tomorrow is the day when my spirit soars. My spirit soars tomorrow. Tomorrow my spirit soars like an eagle, and then I will peacefully descend like a harmless dove—gently down, all the way down to the surface of this earth.

“I shall descend on, of all places, Crimpton, Idaho. Crimpton, Idaho, the place of the humble. Mr. Peterson shall descend. I shall condescend to the low. To the low! He who was in the clouds shall descend. What a special day that will be. A day of celebration. Pentecost for all the world! Pen! — Te! — Cost! — For! — All! — The! — World! Woe to Crimpton! I will save the world after Crimpton’s calamity. Woe to Crimpton! Woe to Crimpton! But I shall save. I shall save. The rider on the gray horse shall visit Crimpton, early, before the young awake, and he will cause great destruction there. Then Satan the Great will punish Pakistan. Why her? Why her? Why her? Shed her innocent blood? But why?

“It will be alright, though. Because then the pure, white–robed rider on the white horse shall destroy the rider on the gray horse and Satan the Great. There shall be no more death. No more tears—all wiped away by the white–robed One on the white horse. The world will turn to me, and all will see that I am there. I will be there. I will be there for the world. I Am, as always I have been. I! — Will! — Be! — There! — For! — All! — The! — World! Peterson shall descend! Peterson shall descend!”

Peterson then flopped down into his chair, seated upright, his body still gyrating wildly. He fumbled, lurched from side to side, slammed his hands on his desk and raked the remaining items off of the top of his desk onto the floor. He demanded that Hall, Samuel and Gualt get down on the floor, on their hands and knees, and pick up all the items that had been wiped off his desk and return them to the desk, in the precise location they were before he began his tirade.

“Save your children. Save them. Save them by proving to me that you will serve me! Pick up the pieces. The puzzle will come together now. You will see. You will see. Pick up the pieces. Pick them up and place them where they belong. Mr. Peterson will do the same for you and for the entire world tomorrow. Save your children. If you love me, save your children! PICK! — UP! — THIS! — MESS! — RIGHT! — NOW!

“Have I made myself clear now!? Have! — I! — Made! — My! — Self! — Clear! — Now!”

Then, seated calmly in his chair, Peterson posed as a king on a throne. He reached over, behind his desk, near his bookcase and retrieved a staff he kept there. Holding the staff in his left hand, seated still and calm, as a king would sit over his subjects to address them, he said, “I am here to fulfill my prophesies. I will judge. The Father will judge. The Son will judge. The Spirit will judge. The True Three in One. I will judge all — ALL! — I will judge even the apostate trinity of the past two thousand years and all of their false followers. The revelation has been fulfilled! Behold, I am with you always, unto the ends of the earth! Go now! Go now! Tell of the Good News! Tell them all. Tell them all. Tell of tomorrow. Tell them of tomorrow’s glory.”

Peterson thrust himself up from his throne. No longer speaking as a firm and composted king, he screamed wildly, “Glory will shine! Glory will shine! GLO! — REE! — WILL! — SHINE!”

11 SEPTEMBER 2024, CRIMPTON, IDAHO

Helicopters surveyed from far above, each with a crew whose members begged for there to be more to see than what was visible. The view from the choppers was that of a gray desert, or at least a desert was the closest known general description for what they saw. The crews knew of deserts having sand, which appeared to have at least some look of life. Deserts have rich, brown sand, a color of potential for life, however remote the possibilities.

Somewhere in a desert there could be a desert rat, coyote, fox, snake, birds of some kind, tiny bugs, cactus—something could be there, alive. But not here. Even the most hopeless desert with water added could sustain life; its sand could be turned green. Crimpton, Idaho, could sustain nothing, not even air to breathe. Radiation and dirt were all that remained.

At the time of the blast, the wind made no sense. Wind is air in motion, but there was no air, no oxygen, at least none that hadn’t been poisoned by the radiation. Both were destroyed along with everything else. And yet the scientists reported that the wind speed, six hundred thirty miles an hour, was faster than had ever been known in the history of the world, except during previous nuclear test explosions.

Rapid winds of heat effaced all it blew over for fifteen miles in every direction—a perfect circle of ruin. The heat pierced everything it came near, then, in an instant, melted it, split it, evaporated it, and rid the universe of it. Everything within fifteen miles of the epicenter was displaced to an unknown dimension.

Past nuclear explosions that destroyed trees, crops, humans and animals would not compare. This sixty–kiloton explosion eliminated any trace that trees, crops, humans or animals had ever existed in or around Crimpton. It was all gone. Even the ashes were nowhere to be found. Once green and lush and full of promise, Crimpton was now gray and dead and hopeless—gray and without sustenance, gray and without anything. There were no buildings; nor was there any evidence that they had ever existed, not even their foundations.

Lake Crimpton, large and wet as it once was, was now a simple dry hole. The land surface of Crimpton was all the same now, including the deep hole that once held the water.