The Angels of Destiny Page 13

  "So God and heaven and eternal life just might exist then?"

  "I suppose so, who knows what’s out there. Maybe we’ll be lucky and find out."

  "Do you know Yuri, I’m beginning to think that we might not. Maybe we just have to wait until death takes us on a journey, to a place where all the questions are answered, a place very far from here that we would never find, even if we looked for a million years, because our eyes were never meant to see it."

  "You’ll be going to church next," said Yuri jokingly.

  "Maybe there’s something in that after all. Think about it Yuri, God the creator sends his son to Earth to teach us how to live as flesh and blood, not that we’ve taken much notice mind you. And to give us hope that there is life after death and why not. If we live in a universe where the origin and rules are beyond our comprehension, then why not life after death, in another form, another dimension? So what’s the purpose of it all? McPherson postulated. Why do we need to be flesh and blood, so that we can experience love, hate, anger, suffering and then, finally death, before we go off to a better place, as the bible tells us? And then what; no suffering no hating no hurting just a house of many rooms where love is all. I really don’t know Yuri," said McPherson, slightly disillusioned.

  "Maybe we just live and die and that’s it, there is no more. One thing I do know Rob, it’s time for coffee. That I understand very well."

  "So do I Yuri," said McPherson.

  Back at his office McPherson touched the mouse on his desk and the monitor lit up. Opening the summary file on data from day one to the present, he studied the listings of ‘bin numbers’, but not one had reached any significant number to suggest it was anything other than pure noise from outer space. “There must be someone out there,” he said, thinking aloud.

  “Rob, is that you?" said Vicki, from her office next door.

  “It is, I’m looking at the summary of results and it’s surprisingly poor. Do you fancy a coffee?"

  "I suppose you’re also going to suggest a work out and cocktails after?" joked Vicki. McPherson laughed at the comment and remembered the lines he used when they first got together.

  "No strings attached this time, just coffee," he said, jovially.

  “If that’s the case I’ll pass this time." McPherson laughed again and walked out of the office for two coffees.

  Passing Vicki’s office he stopped and looked in. "Remember that first night?"

  "Oh yes, I remember it," she said, and smiled broadly.

  Richard Stark was returning to the pier with another boat full of tourists, it was his third run of the day and he was looking forward to having lunch. The low drone of the twin diesel engines permeated through the boat’s fiberglass hull and the square plastic container on the elevated seat next to him vibrated in sympathy. It looked full of all sorts of nice things including a message from Susan saying, “I love you,” scribbled on a paper napkin in blue felt pen that morning after she’d prepared his food.

  The strong breeze blowing on the bay had cooled him and his passengers during the trip but was now fading as the boat neared the pier. Soon it would be hot and sticky again and the tourists would be consuming ice creams and cold drinks to beat the heat of the day.

  After the boat had been moored securely and the last passenger had disembarked he sat down to enjoy his lunch in the shade of the cabin.

  The Embarcadero was always a busy place bustling with visitors from all over the world and Richard would sit and watch the world go by as he ate his lunch. He switched on the radio as ‘Lying Eyes’ was playing. Richard knew most of the Eagles songs and starting singing along to the record. ’Late at night-- a big old house-- gets lone-ly; I guess ev- ‘ry form of ref-uge has it’s price-. And it breaks her heart- to think a love-is on-ly, given to a man- with…

  “Richard,” came a voice from the pier steps. “Richard!” This time the call was louder.

  "Oh Hi Phil, what’s up?" he said, turning the volume down on the radio.

  "Have you heard the news this morning, Rich?" said one of the men, from a neighboring boat.

  "No, what’s up?"

  "Jack Freeman’s son was murdered last night, along with his friend… According to the police it was the work of a maniac. They found their bodies in Huntington Park at dawn this morning, all chopped up." Richard was sitting in silence, trying to comprehend the words; his face was staring and impassive.

  “Richard, did you hear me?"

  "Mmmm," he said without moving.

  "I hope they find the scum that did it."

  "So do I," Richard said, passionately. That’s what the disciples did, he thought, they hunted scum like that and wiped them off the face of the earth.

  He wasn’t hungry any more, and anger took over the emotions within him. He thought about Jack and how he’d loved his family. He knew his son well; he was a lovely kid and a good fisherman, always laughing and full of life. Someone; some mindless bastard was walking around out there, and Jack’s son was dead.

  Thirteen

  It was a Monday morning and Rob and Vicki arrived at the Ellington Building just before seven o’clock. Robs first task was to make a pot of freshly ground Colombian. Vicki was sitting somewhat uncomfortably on a swivel chair in Rob’s office and supported her lump with both hands.

  "I’m beginning to feel like a beached whale," she said, with slight irritation in her voice.

  "It won’t be for much longer now darling."

  "I can’t wait."

  "Neither can I."

  "Would you mind if we have a girl, Rob?"

  "Hell no! So long as it looks like you and not me,” jibed McPherson. Vicki laughed and walked over to him.

  "Kiss me, you handsome brute. I love you so much."

  "I love you more."

  "No, I love you more."

  "Not as much as I love you."

  "Shut up and kiss me.”

  "Am I disturbing anything?" Hunter asked, walking in and smiling broadly as the two embraced.

  "Hmmmm, good morning Colin," replied McPherson breaking off the kiss.

  "I’ll see you later handsome," said Vicki, as she walked to her next door office. “Call me when the coffee’s ready.”

  "Was the lady talking to me?" enquired Hunter, in a jovial manner. McPherson smiled broadly.

  "Coffee?"

  "Please, it smells good. Congratulations on your wedding by the way. Did everything go as planned?"

  "It was great thank you. A small, family affair, as planned."

  “Rob, we need to talk, is it convenient now?"

  "Yeah of course — Problems?"

  “Yes — we’ve got a problem. It’s the President, he wants results, and I’ve got nothing to show him yet. I know that we may never get a result, but, quite rightly, he sees this project as a multi-billion dollar investment, and he’s convinced himself, or rather, his advisers have convinced him, that we’ll make contact, and apparently sooner, rather than later."

  "Help yourself to milk," said McPherson, handing Hunter a cup of freshly brewed coffee. "I’ll just take this cup into Vicki, one moment please."

  On his return Hunter was sitting at his desk, deep in thought. "Tastes as good as it smells. Colombian?” he asked, as McPherson returned.

  "Yeah, my favourite. So, what do you intend to do about the President’s demands?"

  Hunter answered, “I don’t know, what can we do, other than listen to the Universe? According to our intelligence the Chinese are still listening to no avail. That though, is no argument for our failure.”

  "Well, by tomorrow we’ll be up to date, having analyzed all the back data and I understand from Walter, that we’re moving to a new set of co-ordinates. Lets hope we have more luck there."

  "Yeah, let’s hope so.” Hunter sipped his coffee and his expression was blank.

  Hunter’s secretary, Linda, had just arrived at her desk. She was in an exceptionally good mood. Sitting in her office chair, she raised her head toward the ceiling, an
d breathed in slowly. She began thinking about the previous evening and how she’d made love to another woman, for the first time in her life. She began to relive the night before.

  She was sitting on the sofa, drinking wine, with her old school friend guest.

  "That was a lovely meal, Linda. You’re an excellent cook.”

  "Thank you, Mary."

  "Here’s to us," Mary had said, raising her glass in a toast. Mary had grown up with Linda, but had lost touch with her for more than five-years, until another mutual school friend had found out that Linda was living in the Houston area. Mary had phoned and promised to visit her on her next business trip to the area and true to her word, she did. A week in Houston on business, was the ideal opportunity for Mary to meet up with Linda again. She was a senior sales executive for Oracle, the software company, and her business area covered most of the East Coast of America. She was young, beautiful, dynamic and bi-sexual.

  Linda was drinking her wine quickly, excited by Mary’s visit. The reminiscing about their schooldays made them both laugh out loud. She felt an inner warmth that relaxed her as she relaxed listening intently to Mary talking about her school day boy friends. Mary had short, blond, shoulder length hair that was gelled and spiky, so different to the sophisticated,well-groomed look, she’d cultivated for business meetings. In her free time she wore casual clothes and that evening she had chosen to wear her favourite Calvin Klein denims with a white cotton Calvin Klein top. Her make-up was light and her fair skin glowed with a healthy tan. As she talked her lips shimmered from the red lip-gloss.

  "Do you have a partner, Linda?” Mary enquired.

  "No, not at the moment — Although, I’m becoming very fond of my rabbit. How about you?"

  “No — Nobody at the moment — But I love my dildo, too,” Mary enthused. “I must say though, I prefer women to men."

  Linda looked at her for a moment, not sure what to say, and felt slightly embarrassed.

  "I’m sorry, did I embarrass you?"

  “No…No…Not at all.”

  "Don’t get me wrong, I adore making love to men, but I prefer a woman's body."

  "What do you mean?"

  “Simple — I find a woman more sensitive, and more aware of my sexual needs than a man. It’s a different kind of lovemaking; it’s more tender, more sensitive. With a man it’s more animal like, and once he’s come that’s it, isn’t it. We women come back for more." Mary’s words excited Linda and she could feel her heart beat rising.

  "Do you climax with another woman?" asked Linda, before quickly finishing another glass of wine

  "Of course, I have wonderful climaxes. Obviously you’ve never made love to another woman."

  "No, I haven’t — although I think I’m highly sexed. I often dream about situations where I’m making love in exotic places, but it’s never with a woman."

  "You should try it," responded Mary, in a sexy ‘come on’ manner. Linda looked at Mary and her heart began to pound. She was being offered the chance to make love to a very attractive woman and the thought did appeal to her. Her breathing quickened and she felt slightly nervous and hesitant.

  "I’ll get some more wine," said Linda, quickly walking into the kitchen.

  "Was that a yes then?” asked Mary, provocatively.

  "I… don’t know… I feel excited by the thought of it, but I also feel nervous. It’s not something I’ve ever considered before…I... I wouldn’t know where to start."

  Mary walked into the kitchen and put her hands around Linda’s neck. "Try this for starters," she said, and kissed Linda on the lips.

  It was a long sensuous kiss that brought their bodies close together. Mary began feeling Linda’s breasts and stroking her hard protruding nipples under her top.

  "My god I feel so horny,” panted Linda.

  "Shall we go to bed?" Mary proposed, looking into Linda’s eyes.

  “…Okay,” responded Linda, coyly.

  Mary took Linda's trembling hand and led her into the bedroom. "Don't be nervous, Linda, just relax and enjoy it." Mary said, reassuringly, before kissing her passionately on the lips again.

  Linda could feel herself getting really excited and was now unable to stop herself. Mary had removed Linda's bra and was gently sucking her erect nipples, driving Linda into a state of sexual excitement she had never ever experienced before. Soon they were writhing naked on the bed, exploring each other’s bodies. Tenderly, they kissed each other’s breasts and probed each other’s wet mounds. Linda Washington lay on her back as Mary positioned herself between her legs. Pushing them apart she then gently stimulated her clitoris with her experienced tongue, driving her into a state of high arousal, then, her first of many orgasms burst from within her, arching her body up from the sheets, as if a massive electric current was flowing through her. "Oh my god… I'm coming…Ohh!"

  "Now it's your turn to make me come," said Mary, rolling on to her back and opening her legs invitingly. Linda just looked for a few seconds. "Whats the matter darling?"enquired Mary.

  "I've not done this before."

  "There's always a first time for everything my dear." Linda slowly moved down between Mary's legs and tentatively licked her wet swollen slit. Mary's eyes closed in ecstasy as Linda quickly became an expert at cunnilingus.

  In the office, the sudden ringing of the desk phone made Linda jump and broke her thoughts.

  "Good morning, Linda speaking," she said, trying to quickly regain her composure.

  "Good morning, Linda. Did you have a good weekend?" enquired Hunter.

  "Wonderful, thank you sir. Where are you?"

  "I’m with Rob, in his office, at the moment. Take all my calls for the next thirty-minutes, will you please."

  "Certainly sir," responded Linda jovially.

  "You sound very happy this morning, Linda,” commented Hunter.

  "Do I sir? I think the weekend did me good."

  “So what did you get up to?"

  "Oh, nothing that would interest you, I’m sure. Girly things, you know," Linda said, grinning broadly.

  "Girly things — Okay," said Hunter, with sudden disinterest in his voice.

  McPherson was in deep conversation with Hunter when the phone rang.

  "McPherson speaking… Yes, good morning, Walter…Bin 8, are you sure? Okay I’ll be down straightaway." McPherson put the phone down and made his way to the control room followed closely by an excited Hunter.

  On reaching the busy control room McPherson could see people huddled over flat screen monitors, chatting excitedly. On the front wall eight red lights had been projected to indicate a ‘Bin 8’ data category, just below the huge night sky image showing the current search area.

  Gesturing with his arm to Rob, Walter Rottenburg shouted, "Over here. This is the highest bin we’ve had to date, Rob," said Rottenburg, pointing at the screen display.

  "What co-ordinates are we on?" enquired McPherson.

  "We’re still in Ursa Minor."

  "What does it mean, Rob, have we made contact?" Hunter asked, eagerly.

  “It’s too early to say that. All this means is that the signal is showing signs of a structured nature, not random like most of the noise the Universe throws out. But bin 8 is not sufficient, statistically, to get too excited about. It may be due to Pulsar activity or a Bi-Polar star even."

  "At least the software is working well," retorted Jerzy Rozanski, smiling.

  Vicki had now joined the excited group and was stood next to McPherson as he manipulated the ‘bin 8’ data set.

  "What have we got, darling?"

  "Too early to say, I need more data before I can answer that one," responded McPherson without looking up from the screen. "Even a bin ten doesn’t guarantee that we’ve made contact of course.”

  "But it would sure help," said Hunter, hoping he would have something positive to report to the President real soon.

  McPherson spent the next few days working on the data, but to everyone’s disappointment, especially Hunte
rs, the results were negative. It was now Thursday and back in San Francisco the funeral of Jack Freeman’s son had taken place. It had been an emotional affair with Jack Freeman and his wife clearly brokenhearted. Both, at times, needing assistance to walk to and from the church service.

  All of the ‘Disciples’ had attended the funeral, including Adam Domaradzki, although he kept a low profile, and wore a hat, that covered his emotionless face. Domaradzki had passed around the word that a meeting would take place in ten days time to finalize the details of the attack on the Ellington Building.

  Richard Stark broke down in tears when the whispered message reached him via Disciple Summa.

  The morning after the funeral Richard and Susan were sitting quietly at the breakfast table. The children had left for school and the house was silent.

  "I’ve never seen you cry before."

  "It was an emotional affair, with the kid being so young."

  "Yes, it was emotional and I’m glad you cried Richard. You need to show your emotions more. I want you to be happy again."

  "I’m just tired, darling that’s all."

  "I want to believe you: I really do."

  “What do you mean, you want to believe me?"

  Susan paused. "Richard, I know you better than you know yourself. I’ve seen you tired to the point where you’d fall asleep if you sat down for more than two minutes, but you were happy; you were Richard. Things are different now, you’re not the same man. Something is occupying your mind. What is it Richard?"

  For a brief moment he wanted to tell her everything. Share the pain with her he was feeling inside, but no, he couldn’t do that. Susan wouldn’t understand that it was the will of God that all evil sinners on Earth be destroyed.