The New Adventures of Richard Knight Page 15

  “Nothing! You can’t accuse me of nothing!” the larger sailor snapped, looking furious and rubbing his knuckles.

  “He found about six bits and some Limey coin,” the smaller replied, grinning up at his larger friend.

  “You liar! I never took nothing!” the larger man yelled, raising his large fists.

  “Shut up!” Knight said, never raising his voice. “I don’t care if you pocketed gold bars, I need to know exactly what you found.”

  The larger man lowered his fists, though he didn’t look ashamed as he said, “Six bits and two Limey shillings. You want a cut?”

  Richard Knight shook his head and pushed aside the debris littering the deck. He was studying a series of scuff marks that lay under the garbage found by the two sailors. They were black streaks that varied in length, but each started a little wider and longer and shortened to a thin point. There were many streaks and oddly enough, few crossed each other. They stretched for quite a wide pattern as well and Richard Knight looked at them all closely.

  “So they didn’t clean their decks, who cares? Merchants ain’t exactly spit and shine types, and this here tub was kept worse than my Aunt Tilly’s outhouse!” the large sailor scoffed, guffawing as he spoke to Richard Knight. The expression on his face indicated that he thought the intelligence officer was a silly time waster at best.

  Knight shook his head, still staring at the streaks across the deck. He was looking for just such a series of streaks, they were the final piece of the puzzle. “There are plenty of marks all over the place, you’re right they took lousy care of this ship. But look at this…”

  He pulled out a folded series of papers and stood up, standing before the two sailors and lifting the pages to eye level. They were a series of photographs, hastily done, showing a series of marks very similar to the ones that littered the deck of the Western Star. He paused between each photograph, showing six in all and finally folded them up and placed them back in his jacket’s inner pocket.

  “They’s just the ones down there, what’s it mean?” the shorter sailor asked looking at the marks on the floor before them but also at the now hidden pictures in Richard Knight’s pocket.

  “Evidence,” Richard Knight said and ran the heel of his shoe along the deck. The streak was a uniform length, nothing like the ones that they were examining. Nodding to himself, Knight turned to the shorter sailor. “Would you mind if I push you down? I need to see something.”

  The shorter sailor shrugged and let his body relax. Knight gave him a quick shove backwards and the sailor fell backward, hitting the deck with a low thud. He popped back up, unhurt, his face quizzical as the military intelligence officer bent down and examined the wide streaks that were also different from the ones they discovered. These were wide and stayed the same basic length along the deck.

  “You ain’t knocking me down, buddy boy,” the larger sailor growled, his fists balling up and his body tense.

  “Don’t need to,” Richard Knight replied as he grabbed the tall man by his shirt and belt and swept him off the ground. Holding the larger sailor over his head, he seemed to forget the man was dangling up above as he stared where the man once stood. The streaks were exactly the same as the ones they had just discovered on the decks of the Western Star.

  “Perfect,” Knight whispered and deposited the larger sailor back on his feet. This was all the evidence he needed. Now it was time for action!

  ***

  In a location unknown to all, the Grandmaster sat in a steel throne and watched his followers as they completed their rites. He was bored by them, but they were required for his plans to come to fruition. One had to make due with what one had on hand, a fact he learned a long time ago.

  The Grandmaster rarely thought of himself as anything else at this point of his life, but one made due with the fate one was dealt. Life was all about hardship, according to many philosophers he had read over the years, a fact made all too apparent by his past history. Humanity never seemed to accept that hardship made them rise to greater heights, become like angels above or even ancient Gods of mythology.

  But no, humanity would prefer to walk the safe course, to try and save as many of their weaker members as possible. This was ridiculous. Did the lion attempt to save the injured antelope in the wild? No, they destroyed them and fed their young with the tasty remains. That was the way of the universe, and he would ensure it would begin. The way of change came to him from Darwin, a book called “The Descent of Man, and the Selection of Sex” that he stole while he was recovering from injuries in a slum on the outskirts of Naples. There a drunken former priest lived, a debauched man with a magnificent collection of books devoted to the truth about humanity. As the Grandmaster regained his strength, he indulged himself in the man’s library, finally providing the sad learned fool with his final end.

  But one passage of Charles Darwin’s book stayed with the Grandmaster, became his defining statement and changed how he would confront the world. It was carved in stone above his throne and all his followers recited these words every day:

  “Thus the weak members of civilized societies propagate their kind. No one who has attended to the breeding of domestic animals will doubt that this must be highly injurious to the race of man. It is surprising how soon a want of care, or care wrongly directed, leads to the degeneration of a domestic race; but excepting in the case of man himself, hardly any one is so ignorant as to allow his worst animals to breed.”

  A perfect statement as to the ways of the world and one that the Grandmaster would cause to happen, starting with the United States. The Americans were in a major depression and instead of growing stronger by destroying their weaker members, they were attempting to find ways of saving their most pathetic sorts. This was wrong and would lead to the lesser races rising up, a lesson he taught years ago to an Austrian born former German soldier. The man never forgot his secret teacher and now that he was on the rise, assisted the Grandmaster in their mutual plans.

  Yes, humanity would learn the way of pain and they would be far better for it…

  ***

  Richard Knight examined the map as he flew back toward land, glad to be back in the air and away from the Western Star and the Navy men who were now getting the dead ship into port. Six previous dead ships with the exact same details, all crewmen missing and the possessions from their pockets the only items found near the streaks from their shoes showing they were pulled upwards into the sky.

  But the path was fairly easy to follow, a track from the large port of Bremen, Germany to near New York, approximately an attack every 551 nautical miles. The trouble was, where would they head next? There were so many possible directions these attackers could take, anticipating them was a near impossibility. They were heading to the United States, that much was apparent, but why?

  Knight realized that maybe the more important question in this puzzle might be what were the intentions of these attackers? The whole venture seemed so random despite the many attacks that occurred between here and Bremen. Yes, the locations were basically in a western direction, but why seize all the crew on each of these freighters and leave the often expensive cargo behind.

  It was then that the answer came to Richard Knight, in the form of a seagull. In the distance the military intelligence agent could see a flock of the ocean birds milling about the sky, diving randomly into the water for their food. And with that, Knight realized why there were regular attacks along the way between Germany and the United States.

  “Food,” Knight whispered to himself, shaking his head in disgust. The idea of using human beings as food was abhorrent to him as a civilized man. It was just wrong and horrific, but it was the only answer that made sense.

  But what was the main aim of these monsters? They were terrible beings at the very least, which qualified them to be counted as sub-human, but Richard Knight knew he couldn’t underestimate them at any time. No, there was a plan at work here and he needed to figure out what these beasts intended w
ith the United States. Once he understood their reasoning, he’d be able to anticipate their next attack…

  “Oh my Lord,” Richard Knight nearly yelled, his mind seeing the ultimate purpose. He didn’t know their ultimate motive, but he did suddenly understand the tool they planned on using to attempt to achieve their horrific aim.

  “The purpose of terrorism,” Knight said aloud, “is to terrorize.”

  The words belong to another monstrous human being, Soviet Communist leader Vladimir Ilyich Lenin. As a man whose revolution resulted in untold deaths, the words fit both his movement and the coming attacks by these terrible beings. They planned to terrify America and only Richard Knight stood in their path…the odds were against him but he had to prevail!

  ***

  Far, far below the Grandmaster’s feet lay one of the largest cities in the world. It was enormous, smelly and filled with beings too weak to live without the help of their government. Sad, pathetic and a waste of time, space and resources, but one that would be rectified starting right at this moment.

  The Grandmaster stood up, ignoring his kneeling followers. In truth they were truly his slaves, but they were far better quality than most humans on this planet. He’d carefully researched their bloodlines as well as testing them for intelligence, courage and fierceness in battle. These were the survivors of the two hundred offered to the Grandmaster by Hitler back in Germany, a mere twelve worthy enough to follow him and begin the creation of a new world.

  “Below us at this time,” The Grandmaster stated, his voice a soft tone that flowed over everyone present - he never needed to raise his voice, people instinctively hushed when he spoke, a gift he’d possessed for most of his life- “are masses of humanity upon an edifice of stone. They crawl upon this monument like ants upon a high rock, looking down upon their fellow man and attempting to feel greater than their peers. They chatter inanely like birds in a tree, but are little more than worms beneath the feet of giants!”

  “Master,” Xavier asked, his voice slightly shaky. He had a healthy fear of the Grandmaster, knowing their leader was a mercurial man, capable of kindness or great cruelty depending on the moment. “May I ask how you see such sad sights? All of us can only see clouds and the sky beneath our vessel.”

  The Grandmaster could have been offended, but realized this was a chance to reinforce his power over his underlings once again. Throwing back his head, he laughed long and loud, finally pretending to wipe from his eyes non-existent tears. He finally ceased, though his reply was still filled with a tinge of amusement.

  “I am not just your Grandmaster, Xavier my friend and follower. I am your greater in every way. If those beings beneath our feet are as ants to you and the others, then you and your fellows are as insects to me. I see them all; I can hear them chatter about nonsense that hides their fear of life itself. Do not forget that, else you may earn my anger.”

  “Yes, Grandmaster,” Xavier replied quickly, keeping his head firmly downward in submission. Besides having a wise and healthy fear of the Grandmaster, he also knew their leader was a man of his word on the whole. He hadn’t lied when he told them how great they would become if they chose to follow his ways.

  “It was a fair enough question,” The Grandmaster conceded, seeing a need to bolster his subordinate a slight bit now. Always better to rule with a combination of fear and love. Xavier and the others now feared him, but he would give them reason to worship him again. “I like subordinates who use their minds. This is why your Fuehrer, my pupil nominated each of you to serve at my side.”

  Rising up as if on cue, they raised their arms in salute and shouted as a body, “Sieg Heil! Sieg Heil! Sieg Heil!”

  The Grandmaster smiled and threw open the hatch near his feet, “Go now! Go and spread fear to all! And bring the yellow haired woman in the new dress to me. She will make a delightful meal for later.”

  He watched as his followers left, leaving the hatch open for their return. They were so easy to impress, not realizing that he could tell them anything to keep them in line. For example, no matter how strong he was, no being could hear humans speaking or see them from so great a distance. The simple use of a telescope enabled him to study the location before he gave Xavier and the others a set of very impressive orders. It helped that he was their greater and could destroy them all at once should the need arise, but that would be wasteful and would slow down his plans.

  “Change begins now. First this former colony, then the whole of North America and Europe will fall. Yes, change is coming to this world, a much needed one!” The Grandmaster intoned and began to laugh again. Yes, he would bring about a new dawn for humanity, one where he sat at the top and most others were merely food…

  ***

  Richard Knight cursed this seaplane for being a slow moving tub, a Western Star of the sky. Though useful for meetings in calmer seas, rivers, lakes and ponds, the plane was not what anyone would choose when an emergency was about to occur. He longed to be holding the stick of a Boeing F28 or any of the many other planes he had access to in his capacity as a sometime agent of US military intelligence. That was because Richard Knight was born to fly, a natural pilot of incredible skill that allowed him to win air races and earn renown as one the legends of the air to the general public. His superiors in Washington DC understood that they could not prevent him from races and demonstrations of piloting skills, therefore they viewed these activities as an unusual cover for his work for their agencies. Also they appreciated that Richard Knight was one of only a few pilots capable of taking on all comers should there be an attack by any of the United States’ many foes.

  Finally his latest destination was in sight, a small island between New York and New Jersey, complete with a majestic statue that always succeeded in causing a lump to appear in Knight’s throat. Yes, this was the island of the Statue of Liberty, a towering monument of freedom given to the USA by the country of France. Having flown close to the statue several times, he still found it hard to take in the sheer majesty of this tribute to democracy.

  But that was unimportant right now, Richard Knight surmised that a terroristic attack on the United States would be on a very public location. The closest to where the Western Star was found was the Statue of Liberty, its home an island filled with tourists as well as an Army base. What better location to cause terror for these monsters?

  Landing on the Army dock, Richard Knight leapt out of the plane and called out to the approaching military police officers. They were used to the occasional accidental boater stopping by the dock, thinking this was a location they could leave their boat while they explored the island and statue.

  “Military intelligence,” Knight snapped, striding forward on the dock. “Get out of the way and watch the plane!”

  While it might be a good idea to involve the Army in what was happening, or more correctly what might happen, how could he explain this to the Colonel in charge of the base that he, Richard Knight, was the agent known as Q? The point of being a member of military intelligence was remaining secretive at all times, not to mention that they might resent his intrusion. Additionally he wasn’t sure how to deal with this issue even if his suppositions were correct.

  There were several places an attack could take place on the island, the US Army base being the first. But Knight discounted that instantly, why would anyone attack a location filled with men carrying guns and capable of getting their hands on even more powerful arms? No, even the most terrible monster might pause at the idea of attacking an area filled with heavily armed trained soldiers.

  The actual location would have to be the statue itself, the main site of the island. But where specifically would this attack take place? There were numerous locations, the crown being a popular location as well as the torch. But Richard Knight suspected neither were good locations for an attack, the number of people in those areas being very limited. Plus people would be able to hide if attacked. The statue was large and did not possess many ways in or out.

&
nbsp; No, the major target for an attack would be the base of the pedestal. People were often waiting in line to get into the Statue. Additionally many were strolling about and enjoying the day. Of all of the New York area, this island was one of the most populated areas, a location that if attacked would be almost literally a tragic shot heard ‘round the world. Additionally this would add a level of tragedy to a truly international symbol of freedom. The Statue of Liberty might become a reminder of pain and terror for all, a terrible thought that Richard Knight could not allow to occur!

  But how would these monsters attack from the sky? This Knight still hadn’t determined since there were so many possibilities. Would they swoop down in small planes with some type of man catcher? Use long tentacle arms as if from a Wellsian nightmare? There was no way to know until these beasts made themselves visible.

  “Mommy!” A little girl with long blonde sausage curls and a tiny blue beret called, tugging her mother’s coat and pointing straight up into the sky. “Look at the big birds!”

  Richard Knight’s head snapped upward in the direction the tiny girl was pointing. His vision, like many expert pilots, was far better than most people; though his was exceptional even for a flier. Knight could see what this girl thought were birds in detail and knew these were the monsters intent on attacking the United States. They were horrific, terrible creatures that made his blood run cold and his hands reach for the twin .45 caliber automatics he wore under his jacket.

  “Everyone!” Richard Knight yelled, his guns causing many to start with fear. “Get inside the pedestal and close the doors. NOW!”