It was already late. Mr. Morris, 56 years old and one of the secretaries of the World President, had to hurry. This appointment was extremely important. His taxi had struggled through the jammed streets, from the airport of New York to the inner city. However, time really pressed now. Mr. Morris scurried through the big entrance door of a gigantic skyscraper and ran to the lift. The beheld his watch and became nervous. But in the end he reached the 33. floor of the building just in time...
“Come in, Mr. Morris!”, called somebody out of a luxurious office room on the uppermost floor of the skyscraper.
“Good afternoon, Mr. World President!”, said the man with the gray temples and the just as gray suit, smiling unsteadily and submissively. His interlocutor stared out the window down at the streets of the New York and did not turn around.
“I have the newest internal messages from Paris...”, said Morris excitedly.
“Aha!”, returned the World President.
“Yes, the situation has become acute, as the GSA men have told me!”, gasped the older gentleman, totally exhausted.
“Really?”, asked his boss.
“Yes, Mr. World President! Confidential studies...”, explained Morris, but he was interrupted.
“Where is your place in our great organization, Mr. Morris?”, interrogated the World President and still stared at the hectic tangle of cars and people between the bulky bank houses of New York`s inner city.
“I beg your pardon, Sir!”, replied the confused secretary, still standing beside the door.
“Which lodge, Mr. Morris?”, clarified the president.
„Eh! I`m a fellow of the “Sons of the Mountain”, Sir! The lodge is called “Sons of the Mountain”...San Francisco, Mr. World President!”, stammered Morris baffledly.
“Grade?”, muttered the man in front of the window.
“Eh, I`m in the 4th grade, Sir! That`s all I have achieved until now, Sir!”, stuttered the secretary.
“Well, perhaps that is enough for you, Mr. Morris!”
“I wanted to talk about Paris...”, said the servant, but he was interrupted again.
“Sons of the Mountain”? One of my nephews is also there!”, whispered the World President.
His secretary tried to direct the conversatrion on the incidents in Paris, but the World President just groaned and ordered him to stop talking about these things.
“Listen, Mr. Morris! I know what has happened in Paris, and I give a shit on it!”, he said quietly. “Not even a damn fart! Do you think that the “great revolution” will break loose against us now, Mr. Morris!”
The World President seemed to be almost amused. “Leon- Jack Wechsler is dead. I have already determined his successor this morning. And now, I don`t want to talk about this unimportant and boring kids` stuff anymore!”
“But the terrorists have...”, Morris tried to explain with an unsteady voice.
The World President seemed not to hear him. He still looked impassively out of the huge window of his luxury office: “Bring me a glass of orange juice, Mr. Morris, and place it on the desk!”
“Yes, Sir!”, stammered his secretary and left the room. After a few minutes he returned and put a glass of orange juice on the table.
“Thanks!”, said the chairman of the international community, but he did not turn around. “Do you think that we would be there where we are, if things like that uninteresting fuss in Paris had ever impressed us just one time?”, he added coldheartedly.
“Yes, I don`t know...”, Morris became more and more uncertain.
“We are the rulers of this world for two reasons. First, because we have servants like you, Mr. Morris. Second, because the old and great plan to conquer this planet is perfectly ripe and has no weaknesses or errors.”
The secretary stared at the World President with an astonished face.
“Mr. Morris, you are, as a member of the lodge of the “Sons of the Mountain”, in your place. I am in my place, as World President. What has happened in Paris was good...”, he continued.
“What do you mean?”, asked the secretary and was puzzled.
“Well, now we can tell the masses, how dangerous terrorism is and that they can only get protected by an increased surveillance! The media will hammer it into their hollow heads like a mantra, constantly preach and repeat it, so often until that herd of animals has understood our message!”, said the president.
Then he remarked: “Mr. Morris, no one has ever managed it to stop us. For decades, and centuries, our power has grown, and it is still growing. We have struck deep roots, like a cancer that can not be destroyed anymore, because it has already spread to the last part of the body. We have brought down kings and have smashed nations if they have stood in our way. We have perfectly infiltrated this globe and there is no escape for no one. In 2018, we put the mask from our face and showed us to the people, but they remained silent and let us eat them. The nations have behaved like the rabbit in front of the snake. The old writings have predicted it and so it has happened. The great plan became reality. And now, we want to bring mankind the slavery that it deserves. Now our time has come, and we will rule this planet forever!”
“But perhaps our reaction in Paris was not right?”, said Morris.
The World President, who made him stand as always and this time even turned his back to him, harrumphed and answered, “Not right? Of course it was right! The masses shall know that we control them. They can hate us but, first, they must fear us. Their world, the old world, is broken into pieces and will never return. The new world is our creation. Yes, we want to show our power openly, as the elders of our past always intended it. They were forced to spin their threads secretly. We don`t need secrecy any longer, because we are the rulers of this earth. In our hands is all the might of the world, and the sign of invincibility is our banner, the banner of our New World Order.”
“I believe you, Mr. World President!”, said Morris, almost under his breath.
“No!”, replied his master emphatically, “I know that you do not mean that, deep inside. But that`s quite immaterial. What you believe has no meaning. The people also believe much, but it is perfectly irrelevant. They believe in a better world, in a rescue, in their god! Well, Mr. Morris, if that god in whom these animals believe would really exist, I would personally liquidate him!”
The words of this man, for whom he did the most menial paperwork, visibly intimidated Morris. Liquidate God! Morris looked around, as if searching for an escape should one become necessary, but didn`t dare to bestir from his place.
“There are only a few who could really become dangerous for us, but they are quiet at present,” the World President continued, “At least, they don`t show themselves openly. But this is nothing for you, Mr. Morris,” he said, his contempt undisguised, “really nothing for you!”
He clasped his hands behind his back, and seemed to lapse into contemplation. “We are the darkness of the world,” he said. But he was musing to himself now, and Morris did not catch the words, “We are the darkness of the world, whoever follows us, will never walk in light again!”
The servant inquired what the master had said, but the question remained unanswered. Instead, the World President raised his tone and said, emphatically: “We bring the yoke of slavery to all nations. Who knows us knows also that we are the lords of hate, the dark messengers of destruction, hating the light of other men, always eager to extinguish it.
We tore down the old world we hated so much - we gnawed at the roots of civilization, and finally we brought it down. We hid for a long time under the cloak of lies and distortions - our greatest art. Our enemies - those fools! - even hailed us. Childish maggots! Now the time of our triumph is at hand and who shall deny us our pleasure.”
"I don`t know...”, Morris stammered, and even scratched his head to display the necessary confoundedness.
“You don`t need to know, my faithful servant. Because wisdom is reserved only for the wise. Ignorance casts a shadow in t
he minds of those like you. That has always been a strength to us,” said the World President, and he spun around. His dark eyes sparkled at the nervous little man. He took the glass of orange juice, sipped it and waved Morris dismissively in the direction of the door. Then he turned away again.
“Goodbye, Mr. Morris!”, he said flatly, his head nodding slowly as if in affirmation of some damning, private judgement about this ordinary little man, indeed about all ordinary men.
“Good bye, Mr. World President!”, answered the gray-haired man and disappeared. With a certain relief that this confusing conversation was over, the servant walked down the long hallway and went to an elevator.
The head of the World Government opened a drawer and took out a remote control. He turned to the big plasma screen in the corner of his office and switched on the television. On one of the news channels was a report about the events in Paris. The man leaned back and stared at the TV. A pretty newscaster presented the latest news from “Central Europe” with a sad face. Some pictures of the bombing and the mangled corpse of the governor were shown.
Weeping people who seemed to be deeply moved by the fate of the politician were interviewed. Even a man who vigorously scolded at the terrorists and demanded a harder battle against politically incorrect elements.
“More security for the people by increased supervision!” – This was his suggestion, in order to protect mankind from terror.
“These terrorists threaten the lifes of all respectable people!”, ranted the man.
Then the camera showed again some visitors who were seized by sorrow and grief, because of the bombing. The riots were mentioned only with a few words. The police had arrested a bunch of “fanatics” and “extremists”, according to the TV report. But the security forces had finally been able to prevent more chaos, because of their hard course against these “criminals”.
The viewer did not learn that thousands of people had been massacred by the police and the GCF. The World President just smiled. He took another sip of orange juice and turned off the television.
A new morning began in Ivas. A new morning in the new world. Frank and Alfred had visited Thorsten Wilden and had talked with him about a lot of things. After that, Frank had walked with Julia through the nearby forest. He was just happy to be still alive. Meanwhile, the life in the small village had taken its accustomed course again.
In these days Frank often thought about hope. He had got his revenge, but his fight for freedom had just been born. They say “Hope dies last!” - but what would a man be without it…
THE END
But the fight will go on...
Alexander Merow`s “Prey World” books (Part 1-3, German version):
Available in all book stores and at Amazon!!!
Prey World II – Rebellion Beyond
Oppression and manipulation are the order of the day in the year 2030. Only one single nation had been brave enough, to fight for its independence – Japan.
Frank Kohlhaas, Alfred Bäumer and millions of desperate people look at the Japanese president Matsumoto who has liberated his people. But the Lodge Brothers are not willing to leave the renegade nation in peace. They slander the Japanese with a big hate campaign and plan a military strike to bring the rebellious Asians to their knees.
Frank and Alfred decide to join the Japanese fight for freedom as volunteers. Soon the situation gets out of control and the fight against the New Worlder Order becomes a bloody nightmare.
Prey World III – Organized Rage
In the year 2033 the economic situation in Europe is more hopeless than ever before. The World Government still loots the nations without mercy and holds them in its iron claws.
Artur Tschistokjow, a young dissident from Belarus, takes over the leadership of the Freedom Movement of the Rus, a small group of rebels that fights against the Lodge Brothers in the underground.
While a big economic crisis starts in Belarus, the rebels form a growing revolutionary movement. Frank, Alfred and an increasing number of discontent Belarusians join Tschistokjow`s organization. They finally follow the Russian dissident to a point of no return.
Prey World IV – Counterrevolution (Coming soon!)
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