Red Serpent: The Falsifier (17 page)

“How dare you!” Erik spat with vehemence. “Now the Council will surely hear of this!” He stormed out and got back into the elevator.

“Somebody stop him!” Daniel said, “He must not tell the Council what has transpired here.” He sent four guards after Erik and told one of them to send a message to Mikhail to stop the regent. “This is...so frustrating. I hate that guy!” he cursed.

“Now the only thing we can do is get the blood,” Nikolas said.

“Guards, everyone, leave us,” Daniel said, and everyone left. “Not the Rebels. You stay here.”

“Aidan’s blood is essential,” Nikolas said. “That is the only blood that can save him.”

“No it’s not,” said Gavin. “Listen, this isn’t the only solution.”

“He’s right,” said Varenkoff.

“There’s the ritual, the technique,” Joqetu said.

“No!” Nikolas shook his head. “That’s a grave risk. You know that. Besides, not all of us have that sort of energy. It’s not been used for the last twenty years or so. I’m sure everyone’s forgotten it.”

“You mean,” Daniel said slowly, “the Resurrection technique. The one given to Christ?”

“Yes,” Gavin said.

“But it’s illegal,” said Daniel, “Anaxagoras has forbidden it.”

“How does it matter?” Nikolas said. “We’re not working for Anaxagoras anymore. Remember?”

“Right,” Daniel said, “but like you said, it will take time and energy.”

“Do you remember the technique?” Nikolas asked.

Daniel shook his head and squatted down to get a closer look at Alex.

Nikolas said, “Neither do I.”

“It’s not you memory that’s failed, it’s Anaxagoras,” Daniel corrected. “He has taken away all knowledge from our minds so that no one else would learn it, and it wouldn’t fall into the wrong hands. You know that.”

“How can I forget? We were not allowed that information after the Rebellion. But, that does not mean we can’t try.”

“Try? How the hell can we try when don’t know one word of the incantation?” Daniel said, getting up and looking at his father.

“There’s still a way.” Nikolas smiled. “The Vatican.”

“But that has restricted access. Only Council members and government officials can go there.”

“Exactly,” Nikolas’s smile widened.

Central Headquarters was off-limits for press and those who were not in the Senate or Supreme Court. A large crowd gathered at the main building and at Central Square, where the ceremony was to take place. Never before had people been so ecstatic about a man coming to power. Even though John knew the position was temporary, he was happy. But at the same time, his mouth was dry and his heart rate quickened with anxiety. The sound of celebration and press rang in his ears as they followed him. He shook hands, kissed cheeks, waved, and smiled.

John and Richard strode inside the building. To their surprise, they were greeted with mirth and laughter by the Senate, the Supreme Justices, and the Municipal officials. “Well done, you both!” said Justice Herbert K. Marks, an African American man in his late sixties. Herbert was a jolly figure with his white walrus mustache and wide grinning mouth. He effortlessly projected a happy vibe onto all around him. He had always been supportive of John Howe and was one of the first people who nominated him as the then de facto and eventual elected Leader of the Council. While shaking John’s hand, he whispered into his ear. “You definitely are the right choice. That idiot, Jarad, is nothing but a two-faced liar.”

John said, “All will be revealed in time, Herb. Jarad may be two-faced, but I think there’s more to it than that. You’ll soon see.” John smiled. “Anyway,” he patted Herbert’s hand which still clasped his own, “I’m glad and grateful for your support.” John respected Justice Marks and trusted him with his life. The man was a rational thinker with a warm heart.

Herbert patted John and Richard on the back, a little hard but jovially and gave a deep laugh.

The other Justices greeted them along with the Senate. The Municipal officials had little say, but each congratulated Richard and John, shaking their hands and embracing them.

“Now, remember,” said Herbert, “you must realize that this outcome has come upon us for a very good reason.”

“Of course,” John and Richard said together.

John continued, “This is a new chapter in the History of Humankind, my friends. Life as we know it is an unjust, passing existence, full of grief, pain, remorse, and vengeance. Therefore, I want to make it clear to everyone.” He looked at them seriously, “I will not shy from my responsibilities as leader; I am fighting for liberty. I am grateful that you have given me your trust. Make no mistake; I will lead us towards happier days.”

“Of course, we trust you. We trust you both,” Nyazika, one of the Justices, said, turning to Richard. “Do you have anything to add?”

“John has spoken for both of us,” Richard said.

“Well then, we will prepare for the ceremony.” Nyazika projected a grandfatherly smile. “You two go and do what you need to and be back here by 9:00.”

They left the premises, only to be bombarded with shouts of praise and adoration from the crowd. “I think we need to pay Jarad another visit,” said John.

Daniel and Nikolas hurried to Erik’s office. They spoke nothing of the matter to each other and remained quiet throughout. Once they reached the office lobby they saw Sirach waiting alone. “Where is the regent?” Daniel asked.

“He’s inside sir, with your secretary,” said Sirach, standing up.

“Good,” Daniel said. “Let us in.”

Sirach pressed the intercom speaker button and said, “Sir, it’s the President. He wants to see you.”

“Let him in,” said Erik through the intercom.

Sirach smiled and gestured them to go in.

The door opened automatically. When they entered inside, Erik was waiting for them. They were surprised to see a smile on his face. Daniel had a feeling he knew what was going on. Mikhail stood up and Erik bid the Garengs to sit down.

“Look, Erik. Let’s talk straight here,” Daniel said. “Whatever has happened couldn’t be prevented.”

“Really?” Erik shook his head, “I doubt that. I am going to summon Lord Julius and notify him of your lack of care and your sudden allegiance, with this gang of vagabonds... these,” Erik gave Nikolas an evil glare, “Rebels!”

“Listen,” Daniel said, “there’s no need for all this. Just hear my proposal.”

“No, listen to mine. I don’t have to tell Lord Julius about this mishap. All you have to do is...”

“Just tell us, damn it!” Daniel frowned.

“Give me the blood of the Falsifier!”

“What!”

“That’s right, I want his blood.”

“But why his?” asked Nikolas, “What’s so special about it?”

“It’s obvious, isn’t it? His blood is the most powerful there is next to Lord Anaxagoras’s.”

“But it’s dangerous,” said Daniel. “Drinking his blood will kill you.”

“That’s right,” Nikolas said. “His genetic code is too complex to decipher and his blood is a mix.”

“A mix?” Erik looked at Nikolas with interest. “What do you mean?”

“Yes, it has been said before. He is half human and half vampire. Plain and simple,” said Nikolas, “He is a very important ally to us.”

“To us?”

Daniel laughed. “You don’t realize it, do you? Father and the others have decided to join us.”

“Is that so?” Erik said, scrutinizing Nikolas’s face. “How do you know of this?”

“The truth is Alex, the Falsifier, is from the lineage of Argos I, and the grandson of Anaxagoras.”

“That’s impossible!” Both Erik and Mikhail looked at Nikolas, their faces a picture of incredulity.

“Is that really true?” asked Mikhail.

“But that is impossible,” Erik repeated.

“He is Aidan’s son. You must accept this. His blood would be catastrophic to ours. If his blood came into contact with ours, it would literally explode. You can see for yourself. Aidan created him and formed his genetic structure.”

Erik rubbed his chin, leaning back in his chair. He took out a cigarette from a platinum case and lighted it. He took a large puff and exhaled. “These humans have some unusual ways of intoxicating themselves. But I love it.”

Daniel grew impatient. “So?”

“Well,” said Erik. “I would want to see for myself. If what you say is true then I will personally see to it that the incantations be brought so that he may be resurrected. And surely, the Council will be informed of his heritage, but not of this incident.”

“Of course,” said both father and son.

Erik took out a pen and paper and began to write. “Give this to Sirach,” he told Mikhail, “and tell him to go to the Vatican Library and get the book,
Incantations of the Dead
.”

Alex awoke. He knew he it had all been a dream. His eyes fully opened and adjusted to the light. He gasped, finding himself once again in an unearthly and sad place. He was sitting on dirt. All around him was a thick layer of mist. There were caves with lights flickering from within. A murky river flowed slowly, close to where he sat. Worms and snakes squirmed out of the ground and made him jump in fear. He tried to make out what lay behind the mist. Beyond, on the other side of the river, he saw shadows in the darkness. People walking. He stood up and turned around, accidentally knocking into an old man who was naked except for a loincloth around his waist. The old man’s skeletal figure creaked as he fell backwards. “Uh...sorry. I’m sorry.” Alex said, helping him up. The old man’s beard was greasy and yellow and there were maggots coming out of it. His pale face, tired and drooping, gazed helplessly at Alex with filmy grayish eyes. Moaning and stumbling, he leaned on Alex for balance.

Flames burst from out of the river and a voice called, “Alexander Nyrax! You have been expected.” It sounded like many voices in unison.
The voice of many waters from the Bible,
thought Alex. So then it was true. He had died and now he didn’t know where he was. Was this hell, Hades, Sheol, or the river Styx?

Alex mustered the courage to ask, “By whom?”

Deafening laughter erupted from the flames and when it subsided, the voice said, “You will be taken by the Boatman. He is to tell you all you need to know before you meet the One.”

“The One? Do you mean God?”

“That who is called by many names and is one. Some call him God, some call him Allah, or Elohim, or the One, the Universe, the Creator.”

“He is expecting me?” Alex asked.

“Yes.” The voice and fire died down. The mist thickened around Alex. He stood with his feet planted firmly on the ground and waited for it to dissipate, but the mist coalesced and engulfed him. After a few moments, the mist cleared and he could make out a boat with a dark figure floating along the water towards him. The figure wore a cloak and held an oar in both arms. He seemed to be the very manifestation of death; the Boatman.

“Come,” said the Boatman.

Alex did as he commanded and stepped into the boat. He sat down and looked at the figure with an innocent expression. The boat slowly and steadily traveled upstream. Along the way, deathly sounds echoed in the air. There was no light, only gray. To his left and right, he saw figures aimlessly walking up and down.

The boat entered one of three caves. A holy white light emanated from it. When the boat was fully immersed in this light, Alex felt a sense of peace, joy, and complete surrender. He smiled and his eyes brightened and shone with the luster of a thousand suns. He looked at his body. Instead of a shirt and denim jeans, he now wore a long white robe. He remembered the book of Revelations and realized the things that John at Patmos had said about his visit to heaven must have been true.

“Unbelievable,” Alex tried to say, but no words came out. He realized telepathy was a means of communication. So many different fragrances were in the air, in the atmosphere. There were aromas of exotic flowers and perfumes. He felt invigorated. He seemed more alive than dead now.
I must be in heaven,
he realized. His body and hair were anointed with fragrant oils and perfumes. Even the boatman who had worn a long dark cloak had changed his appearance. His cloak transformed to a completely white luminescence and shone with a blinding patina.

“Now,” said a voice, “You look fit to meet the God of gods, King of kings, and the Lord of Hosts!”

The boat no longer floated on water but on air. Everywhere lights, colors and glimmering stars shone brighter than anything Alex had ever seen. His eyesight was not affected by the brightness; it was as though he could see things unimagined. He heard rolling waves, soft thunder, and the distinct humming sound he had heard when drinking blood. He heard soft bells and voices singing in a choir. This must have been the choir of angels singing everlasting praise to God. As they came closer to God, the sounds and the smells became more distinctive. Color and light transformed into a mosaic of rainbows. There were no words to describe it.

The boat slowed down and gradually halted to a complete stop. In front of them was a double-gate of immeasurable proportions. It was infinitely high, and stretched down beyond Alex’s vision. There were seven rods on each gate. The voice said something indistinguishable and they opened up. The boat did not move any further. The Boatman gestured for Alex to step out.

Alex stepped into the light. There was no boundary and no horizon, only the bright white glow. Alex felt disoriented at first, but once he walked to the other side, watching as the boat left and vanished slowly from his sight, he got the hang of it. As he walked on, his anxieties dissipated. From the midst of the light, a figure appeared and said, “Think and it shall be done.”

“What?”

“Realize yourself, young one. You must embrace the truth.”

“What do you mean?”

“The only way you can get to the one, to the truth, is to think and meditate upon it and you shall be transported there.” The figure repeated, “Think and it shall be done.” It faded away into the light.

It sounded simple enough, and so Alex concentrated on being in the throne room of God. But every time he tried, he was bombarded with images that he did not want to see.
So there’s a catch to it,
he thought.
It’s like meditation.
If he could keep his mind firm and concentrated on the thought of God long enough, he would reach the throne. He tried three more times to concentrate his mind. Each time he failed.