Richard Stephenson - Collapse

“Please tell me you’re done,” said Chief Harris.

“I’m good, thanks,” said Subject B.

“You mind telling me what that was all about?” said Chief Harris.

“Are you gonna arrest me?” asked Subject B.

“For slaying a monster? Probably not. Still wanna know what it was about though. The dead guy a friend of yours?”

“I count two dead guys.”

“The first dead guy.”

“No, he wasn’t. What the hell is that thing?” Subject B pointed at the Hal Robot.

“Oh, yeah, that’s Howard Beck’s robot, Hal. You’ve heard of him?”

“I read about him once. Thought he was some massive computer, the first one the have Artificial Intelligence. Didn’t know he was a robot.”

Hal spoke in his proper English accent, “I am more than just a robot. My program can be extended into several outlets simultaneously. My primary duty at this moment is to assist the creator’s son in preparing everyone for entry into the facility. Your actions require an explanation, or I will have to restrain you to prevent further injury to others.” The Hal Robot raised his arms and walked toward Subject B.

Jamison Stewart was walking toward the scene with his cousin, Marshall Beck. Jamison yelled from twenty yards away, “Hey! Leave him alone! He’s a good guy!”

Marshall Beck called out to the Hal robot. “Hal! Take it easy! We can handle this!”

Meredith Beck had programed Hal to follow any command from her son as long as it didn’t contradict her husband. “Yes, sir, I will be standing by to assist you.”

Marshall Beck looked at the man who had slain the giant. If the man’s name was David, the parallel to the biblical tale of David and Goliath would be amazing. “Mister, you’re damned lucky these two officers didn’t shoot you dead.”

Richard looked back and forth between the crippled officer and the woman who should be a Victoria’s Secret Model and sized them up. They were in love with each other; that much was obvious. The male cop was a sharp guy. He’d probably been in law enforcement his entire adult life and could perform well in a jam. The woman seemed like a firecracker who wasn’t about to take shit from anyone.

“I appreciate you guys not killing me. I’m in your debt.”

Max snapped his Glock back into its holster. “You still haven’t answered my question. What the hell was that all about?”

“I’ll tell you all about it if you tell my why neither one of you shot me dead.”

“When a man that big is holding a corpse by the hair with one hand and its throat in the other, you think twice about shooting him for it. The thought of missing the target or grazing him and pissing him off crossed my mind. I’d finally worked up the courage to start firing when you came into the picture. After a few seconds I was enjoying the show and figured you’d kill him for me. Most phenomenal ass kicking I’ve ever seen. I thought for sure he was gonna rip your head off and kick it like a football. I didn’t catch your name. I’m Maxwell Harris, and this is Elizabeth Reid”

Richard wasn’t one to be flattered by praise. “My name is Richard Dupree. That young man over there has already heard what I’m about to tell you,” Richard said, pointing at Jamison. “The dead man there, well, the first dead man sold my daughter for a tank of gas. I was in the process of trying to uncover her whereabouts when I saw the only man who could lead me to her dead with his throat ripped out.”

“Why’d the big guy kill him?” asked Marshall.

“I have no idea.” Richard turned to Max. “Well, what’s it going to be? You arresting me?”

Max replied, “Well, considering that I’m way out of my jurisdiction, and you could pull that ninja shit to stop me, I’ll give you a pass.”

“I save the ninja shit for people who do the wrong thing.”

“You kill everyone who does the wrong thing?”

“Only if they’re trying to kill me.”

“I can live with that.”

“We’re gonna get along just fine, Max.”

Max looked at Marshall Beck. “Something tells me your father isn’t going to like this at all, once he finds out these people might be stuck up here for good.”

“My father isn’t going to find out about this,” replied Marshall.

“How do you know he doesn’t know already?” asked Max.

“Because Hal is still here. If he knew, Hal would be long gone, and we’d never hear a word from down below. Hal, what is my father doing right now?”

The Hal robot replied, “Sir, he is in the dormitory wing inspecting the living conditions of the quarters.”

“Good. Hal, what brought you over here?”

“Sir, I heard a scream and responded.”

“You’re never to tell my father about anything that happened, from the instant you first heard the scream until now. If he asks you to play back footage of today’s events, you’re to remove the time frame I just mentioned and replace it with different footage. Do you understand?”

“I understand, sir.”

“Good.” Marshall looked at the group of people standing in front of him. “It’s time to get these people ready to begin their new lives. Richard, I’m sure you have some catching up to do with your son. When you’re done I hope you’ll join us.” Marshall looked at Max and Elizabeth. “My father could use our help evicting a madman from his home.”

President Simon Sterling sat in the grand library of his palatial mansion trying to decide on a new name for the presidential estate, the centerpiece of his new government. Some of his guests had tried to refer to it as “The New White House,” and he promptly put a stop to it. He didn’t want his new government to have any ties to Washington D.C. or any of its iconic monuments. Squabbling over elections and other political pettiness was part of the broken government he had discarded. He was going to run things his way. He would have plenty of time to select a name for his estate and a successor.

Simon would have to institute a great deal of change in a very short amount of time. His greatest advantage was the EMP attack. He was sure that many people close to him suspected The Pulse to be his own dirty work. Simon wasn’t responsible for the nuclear warhead detonated in the atmosphere, but he enjoyed letting his people think he was. Let them wonder and gossip about it. If his own people thought him capable of such an act, they would fear him for it. Simon knew the most important tool for controlling a population was fear. Let the people fear him; it would give them pause before thinking of rebellion. The Pulse not only gave him a frightened and confused nation crying out for his help, it gave him the perfect cover for disposing of his greatest obstacle, Malcolm Powers.

The original plan was to occupy the White House with the aide of Carl Moody and his Unified National Guard. Simon even had nearly a third of the Secret Service detail in the White House behind him. They were going to remove President Powers and allow him to retire to his ranch in upstate New York, under close supervision of the Unified National Guard, of course. The hardest part of the transition into the United American Empire would be telling four hundred and thirty-five members of the House of Representatives and a hundred senators that they no longer had jobs. Simon Sterling firmly believed that American politics had two fatal flaws — flaws that led to its downfall. The first was corruption. Politicians lied with almost every breath they mustered and didn’t hesitate to slit each others throats for gain. They were whores willing to sell their vote to the highest bidder. The second was ineffectiveness. Politicians did not represent the people who elected them. They might have held onto the delusion that they served the public, but the only thing they represented was Big Business. The ones that didn’t play ball with the corporations running America quickly found themselves booted out of Washington.