CHAPTER THREE
As one of the Dominant middle class, John felt no fear in entering the Hall of the Council, or the Councila. The Councila was a large room containing the several large black slabs that the Dominants used as beds, a large metallic table, kidney shaped, and chairs equal in number to the slabs. A machine with a large screen and a metallic rectangular board with several indentations sat on the metallic table. Besides it were several controls that looked like remotes only in appearance, but the men were not interested in these.
"To him who will rule the humans in the land they call Nevada," said one.
They took up their cups. "May he be ruthless in the extermination of the humans," said another and turned to a white haired man on his left, "Lewis, it is your duty to education the child. Teach him so that the humans will look on him with fear." He handed him a metallic tube. "The seal of the Council given to the Supreme Mentor."
Lewis took it with deliberate slowness. "The Council is wise. We will rule in the kingdom of man!"
They echoed his last sentence in unison and then called John over.
"John the son of Paul Sedona, we are pleased to see you. Come," said the man who referred to Nevada, "we have perfected the Controllers. Your father will need one for his pet, his Favorite. I know she bore you, but she is human still the same and must be restrained. Pressing the blue indentation does not cause as much pain as the older one, a little sting. We will set it to her personal DNA." He proceeded to adjust it. "When your father returns, we will need the receiver for its new setting." He motioned to the door and a human male dressed in a shirt and light trousers came in carrying another chair. This latter did not tremble, so for that reason he was free from the usual torture and experimentation. However it appeared that his attitude was not from bravery but because he was trying to edge his captors to hurry up and kill him. They did not comply. After arranging the chairs, and complaining that "you take so many of my workers away, everyone will notice when their children do not return because you steal so many of them," the human left.
The Council ignored him with benign tolerance and turned their attention to John.
"We should grant him his wish," said Lewis.
"No, those humans who we allow to live and serve us are useful. Those in the new Chameleon program must learn to react to human emotions. If a Chameleon can tolerate that slave's outburst, he can successfully infiltrate the society of the homo sapiens," said 'Nevada'.
"Our ancestors the humans," John said sitting in the company of the leaders who had just welcomed the birth of a new chosen, "were weak. I suppose that is why we exterminated them."
The glare of Lewis penetrated his soul, but John continued, "I observe no one considered old around here. If our human ancestors were all alive, there should be at least two or three."
"Yes," said Roderick, one of the leaders, "they are no longer alive. Few have figured that out, but you." He arose. "I will show you something, but do not tell anyone about it. Get a couple of shovels."
John agreed.
The two walked for a while into the desert, the hot sun blazing on their shoulders. There was not much except a few pueblos abandoned by their owners, the remnants of farm implements hidden in the dried grass.
"We will have to dig here," Roderick said, pointing to a clump of brush.
It did not take long. The skulls and skeletons were arranged in such a way, that John knew they were still alive when they were buried. Some of the figures sat, others on their knees, and the boned fingers clutched upwards as if they were silently screaming.
"But how could they not escape?" asked John and then he knew. Around each ankle was a broad metal band, and attached to it a chain. All the chains led to a large metal post that he saw Roderick loosen from the dirt.
"We knocked some unconscious, others we drugged, and then drove out in a covered truck, and chained them after digging a hole deep enough. We waited for them to be awake, to show that we were superior, and that no one, not any humans can deign to teach us anything."
"Did any escape?"
"There was one. It seemed he was in the communications center. We had to shoot him. We made it look like he was relayed by robbers." Roderick got up. "We must cover the bodies again. Get your shovel."
The ghastly work was completed. The older man and the boy who was not a boy returned.
The next day, John converted the film to a disc, not unlike the present DVD. He made several copies, not yet deciding on which ones to keep or which ones to send off.
He would need one for himself, and one he would bury near the sacred post. One he would send off with a fake address to the United States. He knew the humans still used the tape format and by sending it off to a large city, the package would remain in the Dead Letter Office, often for years, while the postal employees searched for the address.
So the waiting began, as John matured, the dominants scattered to their respective places, and the Chosen were sent out on their mission of intimidation and murder.
As one of the Dominant middle class, John felt no fear in entering the Hall of the Council, or the Councila. The Councila was a large room containing the several large black slabs that the Dominants used as beds, a large metallic table, kidney shaped, and chairs equal in number to the slabs. A machine with a large screen and a metallic rectangular board with several indentations sat on the metallic table. Besides it were several controls that looked like remotes only in appearance, but the men were not interested in these.
"To him who will rule the humans in the land they call Nevada," said one.
They took up their cups. "May he be ruthless in the extermination of the humans," said another and turned to a white haired man on his left, "Lewis, it is your duty to education the child. Teach him so that the humans will look on him with fear." He handed him a metallic tube. "The seal of the Council given to the Supreme Mentor."
Lewis took it with deliberate slowness. "The Council is wise. We will rule in the kingdom of man!"
They echoed his last sentence in unison and then called John over.
"John the son of Paul Sedona, we are pleased to see you. Come," said the man who referred to Nevada, "we have perfected the Controllers. Your father will need one for his pet, his Favorite. I know she bore you, but she is human still the same and must be restrained. Pressing the blue indentation does not cause as much pain as the older one, a little sting. We will set it to her personal DNA." He proceeded to adjust it. "When your father returns, we will need the receiver for its new setting." He motioned to the door and a human male dressed in a shirt and light trousers came in carrying another chair. This latter did not tremble, so for that reason he was free from the usual torture and experimentation. However it appeared that his attitude was not from bravery but because he was trying to edge his captors to hurry up and kill him. They did not comply. After arranging the chairs, and complaining that "you take so many of my workers away, everyone will notice when their children do not return because you steal so many of them," the human left.
The Council ignored him with benign tolerance and turned their attention to John.
"We should grant him his wish," said Lewis.
"No, those humans who we allow to live and serve us are useful. Those in the new Chameleon program must learn to react to human emotions. If a Chameleon can tolerate that slave's outburst, he can successfully infiltrate the society of the homo sapiens," said 'Nevada'.
"Our ancestors the humans," John said sitting in the company of the leaders who had just welcomed the birth of a new chosen, "were weak. I suppose that is why we exterminated them."
The glare of Lewis penetrated his soul, but John continued, "I observe no one considered old around here. If our human ancestors were all alive, there should be at least two or three."
"Yes," said Roderick, one of the leaders, "they are no longer alive. Few have figured that out, but you." He arose. "I will show you something, but do not tell anyone about it. Get a couple of shovels."
John agreed.
The two walked for a while into the desert, the hot sun blazing on their shoulders. There was not much except a few pueblos abandoned by their owners, the remnants of farm implements hidden in the dried grass.
"We will have to dig here," Roderick said, pointing to a clump of brush.
It did not take long. The skulls and skeletons were arranged in such a way, that John knew they were still alive when they were buried. Some of the figures sat, others on their knees, and the boned fingers clutched upwards as if they were silently screaming.
"But how could they not escape?" asked John and then he knew. Around each ankle was a broad metal band, and attached to it a chain. All the chains led to a large metal post that he saw Roderick loosen from the dirt.
"We knocked some unconscious, others we drugged, and then drove out in a covered truck, and chained them after digging a hole deep enough. We waited for them to be awake, to show that we were superior, and that no one, not any humans can deign to teach us anything."
"Did any escape?"
"There was one. It seemed he was in the communications center. We had to shoot him. We made it look like he was relayed by robbers." Roderick got up. "We must cover the bodies again. Get your shovel."
The ghastly work was completed. The older man and the boy who was not a boy returned.
The next day, John converted the film to a disc, not unlike the present DVD. He made several copies, not yet deciding on which ones to keep or which ones to send off.
He would need one for himself, and one he would bury near the sacred post. One he would send off with a fake address to the United States. He knew the humans still used the tape format and by sending it off to a large city, the package would remain in the Dead Letter Office, often for years, while the postal employees searched for the address.
So the waiting began, as John matured, the dominants scattered to their respective places, and the Chosen were sent out on their mission of intimidation and murder.