Ancient Astronauts

Secret Society

"That trial was clearly a sham, Mr. Martin." Adam Galloway was dressed in a charcoal gray suit that whispered of both wealth and refinement.

Galloway was a man of distinction, his appearance immaculate from head to toe. His silver-streaked, impeccably groomed hair lent a touch of gravitas to his countenance. His deep-set hazel eyes shone with worry.

James was standing on the balcony connected to his living room. The stone half-circle with corinthian rails stuck out just far enough to catch a breeze, while remaining sheltered by the home's long exterior walls.

"It served its purpose, Adam," James couldn't help but let satisfaction slide through his words, "Yes, it was a sham, but everyone heard what Ms. Standing said, which was innocent enough, but Captain Owen Chapdelaine was a shrewd and enthusiastic champion of misinformation. No one will remember her innocence. Everyone will have the captain's last words burned into their memories, the ones he spoke just before the tyrannical so-called governor's loyalists put a bullet in his head."

"And if Hans wakes up before the people can be sufficiently riled?"

"We have an answer to that too," James chuckled.

"Many answers, I presume?" Adam Galloway, a prominent figure in the world of precious stones, extended a hand adorned with a hefty signet ring toward the cigar caddy on the balcony.

The ring band was dark moonsilver, a rare metal from another solar system. The gold top bore an intricate emblem, and the sides were inscribed with insider only cuneiform code. The pointer finger which bore the ring closed around a cigar. Like other prominent members of the Astral Ark voyage he enjoyed a good cigar, especially in a breeze almost entirely devoid of other pollution.

"Oh yes," James smiled at the opulently attired man, "Many answers."

"And you'll share these with me...when?"

"When you're ready to know, Adam. I am our Warden. You will know what you need to know when you need to know it. Suffice to say, if the hero wakes up before we can either kill him or discredit him, he will either kill or discredit himself before a year goes by."

"A year is a long time to wait, James!"

"Not in the broader picture of things," James turned back to gaze out over the military compound, "Go and make sure our guests are comfortable, Adam. And send Clarice in here."

"The governor's nurse?"

"Yes."

"James!" Adam blustered. Then in a quieter voice hissed, "If you were going to kill the man, why didn't you do it when we landed?"

"And make him a martyr?"

"A martyr of what, James!? He didn't say anything or make any pretty speeches or anything."

James turned in a fury and struck Adam across the face. The older man reeled backward into a wall, striking the back of his head. Blood poured from his nose. He tried to pull himself off it, but James was on him, arm across his neck, "Listen here, you lazy, stupid, trust fund baby!" James hissed through his teeth, face red with fury, "ADMIRAL Hans Stephen Agler is a fucking war hero! He is credited with ending the Fifth World War by destroying the Eastern States' North Sea Fleet. Never mind that he was working for us all along; the people don't know that. He's a champion of order. Kill him too soon and people will cling to the fucking Charter!"

"Oh," the porcine man gulped, and choked out with difficulty, "I see. You needed to discredit him first. And now if you kill him while yesterday's events are fresh in mind, and people are scared and anxious, they'll cling to the first leader that emerges...in this case, General Kellerman."

James released his grip on Adam, who slid to the floor gasping for air. "Very good Adam. You're not as hog brained as you look. But no, not General Kellerman. Not after this morning's excessive performance at the trial. I'll need someone else."

Adam coughed, "What about you?" He was still slumped against the wall.

James had his back to the jewelry giant, gazing at a large portrait of Napoleon Bonaparte hanging on the wall. His whipcord arm came down gently on a globe, this one depicting the so far charted surface of Proxima-B. It showed the continents, oceans, and known rivers and mountains, but no place names yet, except for one spot nestled along the Volba River in the Northern latitudes labeled "Second Chance."

"No," James said in a calm tone, "The truth is, Adam, I don't have the temperament for it nor the patience to deal with a million frivolous concerns brought by a hundred thousand frivolous people." Turning back to Adam, who had levered himself back into a chair and tentatively poured himself a glass of whiskey. "But you do!" James said, cheerfully.

"Me!?" Adam said, the glass of whiskey dropping back onto the table.

"Don't worry, Adam," James' voice was icy calm, "Just do everything I say and you'll be fine...got that?"

Adam, too bemused and terrified to say anything, just nodded up and down, his prominent second chin making him look like a bobble head.

"Good, now get out. And send Clarice in on your way. Actually, don't. Use the side entrance. I'll call for her myself. No need to scare her with your beat up face."