The Searching Soul

  “Yeah Mac, we do need to talk.”

  “My place sounds good, we’ll get some dinner on.”

  “Sounds good,” agreed Mac, “but I have to warn you; I’m taking a beating because of Winston baby and I’m not in the best of moods.”

  “It’s going to be business; no one said it had to be fun.”

  ***

  Amy and Mac were seated at the dining room table, Carl was in the kitchen.

  “Mac, what did you think of the news tonight?” Amy asked.

  “You talking to me?”

  “Yes, Mac, right to you.”

  “I’ll bet you’re wondering about the Donald being alive thing?”

  “Yes, Mac, I’m wondering about that. And I don’t care if you have to kill me if you tell me. If you don’t tell me I’m going to kill you. Do I make myself clear?”

  Mac’s shoulders slumped; he let out a big sigh and turned toward the kitchen, “Carl?”

  Carl came out of the kitchen with a ladle; he was the cook for the evening. “Donald is dead, but they’re still monitoring some low level transmissions from him, Alpha Waves.”

  “He’s dead, but he’s still dreaming?” Amy commented.

  “Why would that mean he’s dreaming?” Mac asked.

  “I don’t know, just off the top of my head. A female intuition maybe, but I think the Alpha Waves are subconscious, right?”

  “That’s what I’m told,” Mac confessed.

  “I know some people in dream research, and this sounds like their sort of thing,” Amy offered.

  Mac mumbled to himself,” Dreaming. Dreaming, wouldn’t that be something?” He was suddenly on his feet.

  “I can give you a number.” Amy got up, looking for her purse. “His name is Jim Maddox and he’s working on this dream thing for some foundation. If he’s not the top person, he’ll get you to whoever is.”

  Amy found her address book and wrote down a number. “He loves this sort of thing.”

  “Mac, what are you manufacturing in that tortured mind of yours?” Amy asked as she handed him the number.

  “This Donald’s thing; it had me completely buffaloed,” Mac was storming around the couch, unable to calm down.

  “Geez Mac, I was just speculating, don’t get too excited.”

  “An hour ago I was looking at a blank wall.” Mac was on his circuit of the couch that took him close to Amy, “But now there’s someplace to look.” He stopped and put a friendly hand on her shoulder. “Your intuition got any more ideas?”

  “Seriously?” Amy gave him a skeptical look.

  “Seriously!” Mac shouted.

  “Well, when I heard Donald was killed up there, a thought did pop into my head.” Amy was hesitant; she looked to both Carl and Mac.

  “Spit it out!” Mac said. “If you contribute enough, then we won’t have to kill you for filling you in.”

  “This is just, ah; this is just a crazy thought.” Amy hesitated, Mac and Carl waited. “Donald is the first person to ever die in space, right?”

  “And you’re saying?” Mac asked.

  “I’m not saying anything. Is that a fact or not?”

  “It’s a fact.”

  “Amy, what are you getting at?” Carl asked.

  “I don’t know. It’s just that Donald is the first human to die away from the surface of the planet, it has its possibilities.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense,” Mac argued.

  “You asked me for some possibilities and I gave you some.” Amy justified her thoughts.

  “I appreciate it, really, but I need to go over something else, with Carl, if that’s okay,” Mac looked at Amy.

  “I’ll go wash my mouth out with soap,” Amy sneered.

  ***

  “We have a problem with Commander Realms,” Mac said as soon as Amy was out of the room.

  “What’s up?” Carl asked.

  “Kenny Keaton is really perturbed, wants Realms off the crew roster.”

  “Why?”

  “Realms was difficult about cutting Donald loose, gave Keaton a rash of attitude.”

  “He was upset, he just lost one of his men and—”

  “I went over the tapes,” Mac cut Carl off, “Realms really balked when he shouldn’t have.”

  “Is that enough to blackball him?”

  “You know Keaton; he’s on top of everything, and expects the same from his crews.”

  “Is he willing to cut Realms any slack?”

  “I guess not, and I have to back him. I can’t afford to distance a man as important as him, especially now.”

  “Boy, one thing after another,” Carl sighed.

  “You said it.”

  “I’ll talk to Realms; maybe a big, old, sloppy apology could do some good.”

  “It couldn’t hurt,” Mac agreed.

  “What kind of pressure did Winston put on us, telling the public we’d be ready to get Donald in so short a time?” Carl asked.

  “Almost insurmountable, but Keaton said it can be done.”

  “Safely?”

  “Winston forgot to consider that.”

  Chapter 5

  THE FIRST PRESS CONFERENCE - “Good afternoon Ladies and Gentlemen, my name is Carl Boroughs. The Space Shuttle Reunion landed this morning and as you all know, it landed with one of its crew missing. Lieutenant Colonel Donald the science officer aboard Reunion was working on the Mandrake Satellite, upgrading its photo recognition software, when his space suit and enviably Donald himself was struck by a foreign object at 12.26 Geneva time. The object punctured his space suit causing immediate loss of his environment, which in turn resulted in his instant death. It was a painful decision, but to protect the ecosystem of Earth it was necessary to leave Donald in orbit and he will be retrieved by a Special Mission. That mission will make sure that there will be no contamination when he is returned home. The Special Mission is in the planning stage and will be ready within thirty-five days.”

  Carl put down the prepared speech he had read from. “The reports of Donald being alive, or in any kind of contact with us or anybody else are completely false. There were some communication glitches during the mission and this led to all the speculations.”

  Carl was finished with his press release. “Now, we will answer any of your questions,” Carl said.

  There was an immediate out pouring of yells, all requesting to be heard.

  Carl pointed out to the audience and a man stood up. “Jim Wilson, New York Times,” the man introduced himself.

  “Mr. McMillian, do you agree with the assessment that Mr. Boroughs has just announced.”

  Mac moved over to the microphones. “Yes, I have great faith in my people and they have worked very hard to understand the situation.”

  “But do you agree?” Jim Wilson asked.

  “Of course.”

  Carl pointed to another reporter. The woman stood, “Amanda Firth, National Register. Mr. Boroughs, can you explain why Astronaut Donald is still in orbit.”

  “I thought I did.”

  “Then what is your definition of, ‘contamination of the ecosystem’.”

  “It is possible that an unknown substance or organism could completely predominate, if it was to get loose.”

  “Am I hearing what I think I am,” Amanda really poured on the suspicion. “You’re worried about the end of us all?”

  “I am!” Carl stated “We all live with possibilities and we try to gauge the proper responses. If this Agency did not properly estimate the situation and we were amiss, the consequences could be dire and that we cannot chance.”

  The audience was quiet for a moment, writing furiously. Mac had a pleased expression on his face. The reporter’s heads came back up almost in unison and the din returned. Carl pointed to another reporter.

  “Moray Cain, LA times,” the man said. “Does the fact that there are now three mission failures have any effect on the moral of your agency?”

  “That is not true,” Carl corrected. “We
had two previous mission failures. This last one was not a failure, the mission was completed.”

  “You lost a man!”

  “The systems, the personnel all worked perfectly. A small piece of space debris punctured Donald’s suit, killing him,” Carl hesitated. “One man. There were five others on the mission and they all returned safely.”

  “And he’s still up there.”

  “He will be retrieved in approximately thirty to thirty-five days, as I reported.” Carl panned out over the audience. “Look, this is a dangerous business. For me or anyone else to deny that would be irresponsible. We are taking risks every time we launch, and you take risks every time you get in your car.”

  Mac moved over to the mike, as the reporters clamored to be chosen. “I think that is all we have for now,” he announced and headed off the stage, Carl right behind him.

  “Donald is still alive!” one of the reporters shouted.

  Carl stopped. “That is completely false,” he said and then continued on.

  “Damn good job,” Mac told Carl as they headed down the hall.

  “You know, were going to have to repeat this over and over until we can get Donald back,” Carl said, sounding tired.

  “Refine it as best you can,” Mac said to Carl, “I’m counting on you to keep them interested in what we have to say, and call a meeting of department heads. I want a think tank to go over possibilities.” Mac said to Carl as they headed in opposite directions.

  ***

  Kenny Keaton, the mission controller was sitting in Mac’s office, discussing the rescue mission to retrieve Donald.

  “How far along is the containment capsule,” Mac asked.

  “It’s done, they’re just testing the locking systems and the filters,” Kenny said. “I’m going with the schedule. I can’t see bumping it up any.” Kenny was waiting for a protest.

  “No, make sure of everything! The last thing we need is to hurry and have anything else happen,” Mac said, and Kenny nodded agreement.

  There was a knock on Mac’s door. Through the glass they could see it was Denny Cornell the computer specialist. Mac signaled with his hand for him to come in.

  “Mac, Kenny, you’ve got to see this,” Denny said, rushing through the door. “Channel fifty-two, hurry.”

  Mac picked up the remote and changed the channel.

  “As I’ve already told you, I have been deep in prayer, and the Lord has spoken to me, and He has confirmed to me that Revelations is upon us,” the wild looking speaker broadcasted, his voice booming, drawing everyone in. He was very tall. He looked to be close to seven feet if you compared him to the interviewer, a substantial man in his own rights that had to look almost straight up to see the raging face of the doom preacher. His cheeks were sunken in, his eyes deep set with a rainbow of dark, menacing colors permeating the skin surrounding them. He had dark, thick eyebrows that were as wild and unkept as his hair. It was difficult to determine the color of that, being it was very dirty and very matted in places and sticking out in others.

  “The Devil has arrived in the vicinity of our blessed home and right now is circling, looking for the place to descend. He is looking for the largest concentration of sinners, then he need not waste time. For if he falls to a congregation of those who relish his promises of damnation, his takeover will be swift, total, and irreversible.” Spittle was flying from his mouth, defined by angry, pencil thin, red lips, surrounded by a scraggly beard and finished inside by crooked yellow teeth. The man holding the mike looked like he was ready to duck if the ranting speaker was to direct his tirade down to him. But, for the moment, the preacher was content to spout his rhetoric straight out to the greater audience, the spit flying over the interviewer’s head.

  “Do not come to me,” the preacher continued, “this is not a warning for you to heed. This is not an attempt to save your souls, or your miserable existences. This is not anything more than a revelation of the ‘Revelation’.” He turned quickly, and it took a full second for his ill-fitting, dirty black clothing to catch up. He laugh with a sinister cackle and said over his shoulder, “God Bless You All.”

  Mac was staring, almost dumb founded, at the totally ridiculous figure on the TV in front of him. “What the hell was that?” he asked Kenny Keaton.

  “Just a different opinion. There’s a lot of them going around right now,” Kenny answered.

  “You consider that an opinion?” Mac said, pointing at the TV. “I consider that a crock of shit.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know? Christ Keaton, I’ve got work to do, and that guy obviously has never taken that concept seriously.”

  “That guy is the Reverend Hollsworth,” Denny advised.

  “He looked like he crawled out from under a rock,” Mac commented.

  “He did, but prior to his sliding under that rock, he was a very influential man.”

  “Hollsworth? Hollsworth? Where have I heard that name before?” Mac was sure it had a familiar ring to it.

  “Jedadia Hollsworth, the preacher to the masses.”

  “He’s the guy that had that huge following, the, what did they call it?” Kenny said.

  “The House of Truth.”

  “Yeah, that’s it.” Mac sounded relieved. “What happened to him.” Mac nodded his head in the direction of the TV.

  “He bowed out. Shut everything down one day, without an explanation, and was gone from the scene. This is the first time he’s surfaced in almost ten years,” Denny explained.

  “I never really followed his message, what was it?” Mac asked.

  “He preached salvation through understanding. He was a liberal. His main theme was that God was responsible for evolution. It was His divine tool to pull us out of the past and prepare us for the future,” Denny said

  “He had one hell of a following, I remember that,” Kenny added.

  “He did,” Denny agreed.

  “Do you think anyone will listen to him? I mean whoa, he was scary,” Mac said.

  “I’m listening,” Keaton stated, getting up to leave.

  “I want everyone back in half an hour,” Mac said, as the door closed behind Kenny.

  ***

  “Okay people, what are the possibilities?” Mac looked at the individuals sitting around his office.

  “What are the parameters?” Dennis Cornell the computer geek asked.

  “Were looking for anything that could possibly relate to an individual dying up there, any anomalies,” Walter Wills the head of the engineering division said.

  “We don’t really understand what happens to a person when they die at our feet,” Melanie Monroe the Agency’s head physician said.

  “They start to smell!” Spencer Abraham the head mathematician jumped in. Everyone grimaced; Spencer was known for his antics.

  “And you’re asking for a competent analysis of expiring in a complete vacuum,” Melanie continued, giving Spencer a look, “diminished gravitational pull, extreme temperatures, and radiation blasting away? Is that a summation of what you’re asking?”

  “Melanie, how good of you to simplify it for all of us,” John Mathews the communication genius laughed. He sat shaking his head.

  “I can narrow it down,” Spencer piped up.

  “Go ahead,” Mac said.

  “How can someone possibly stay alive in the conditions Melanie pointed out for us?”

  “Bingo,” Carl said.

  “Or any part of still alive,” Melanie added.

  “How can someone only die a little?” Spencer asked again.

  “Coma comes to mind,” Melanie said.

  “The individual is still alive, just out of direct mental contact,” Jim said. “Apparently Donald is dead and in contact, the direct opposite.”

  “I still think the explosive force of the decompression whacked out the sensor,” Dennis said.

  “We’re all hoping for that,” Mac said.

  “What are we not hoping for?” Jim asked.

  ?
??That Donald was hammered into some sort of cosmic dimension and can’t be stopped,” Dennis said.

  “You and your search for weird computer games,” Spencer said.

  “Damn Spencer, what a hell of an idea,” Dennis returned, “I’m going to be rich.”

  “Dennis the Menace has an interesting point you know,” Walt said.

  “In what way?” Mac asked.

  “Donald took a hell of a shot in a nasty place, and even if we put our heads together and form a giant rock pile, the answer will still probably be beyond our comprehension.”

  “Thanks Walt,” Carl said.

  “Hey, I’m just admitting to the befuddlement I’m feeling,” he came back.

  “Let’s try not to get too far out there, huh,” Mac said.

  “I don’t know what could possibly be happening?” Melanie said. “We don’t have any experience with something like this and experience is what we need to have to learn.”

  “Hey,” Spencer said, “think we could scrape up a few volunteers and find the answers.”

  “Why was he invited?” Jim asked.

  “I assumed he might have something to add.” Mac gave Spencer a nasty look.

  Spencer just rolled his eyes.

  “Are we getting anywhere?” Jim asked, sounding annoyed. “I do have some work I need to get to.”

  “Are we getting anywhere people?” Mac asked.

  “Yeah, I got a headache,” Carl said, “and I didn’t have one before I came in here.”

  “You’re supposed to be helping me run this meeting, not trying to get out of it,” Mac said.

  “Could Donald be a problem?” Walt asked quietly.

  “Of course he’s a problem, that’s why we’re here, duh,” Spencer was back on his horse.

  “Yeah he’s a problem,” Carl added. “We’ve got a lot of explaining to do about what we intend to do.”

  “Which is?” Dennis asked.

  “Get him back, for starters,” Carl said.

  “That’s not the problem I was wondering about,” Walt said quietly again.

  “Spit it out,” Mac said.

  “Cosmic dimensions and can’t be stopped, I think Dennis alluded too,” Walt almost whispered.

  “Jesus Walt, I definitely asked that we not get too far out there,” Mac jumped in.

  “I’m sorry, we were supposed to be exploring all possibilities,” Walt tried to defend himself.

  “I was just kidding, but if Gyro Gearlub took me serious, there might be something to it,” Dennis said.

  “For Christ sakes!” Mac exclaimed. “This is getting out of hand.”

  “I agree,” Melanie said.