Castle Roland

Book II - Global Explorer

by David McLeod


Chapter 9

Posted: 13 Jul 15

Global Explorer II

by David McLeod

H-Power on the Arctic Circle

Global Explorer, Ensign Azisa N'Kosi, Laboratory Notes, January 20, 2018

The retrofit crew had created twenty quarters with handicapped access; only seven of them were in use. It wasn't hard for me to assign one of the extras to myself, and even easier for me to convert the extra-large bathroom into a laboratory. I was a member of the United Nations Science Corps, and an Ensign. I stood watch on the bridge, but my only science-related duty was conning the sensor array from the bridge. What I did in the laboratory was my own undertaking.

My salary, which I knew to be a gift of Anconia Industries, paid for equipment: flasks, titration tubes, a microscope, and electric warmers with thermostats to ensure a constant temperature. I was happy that no one questioned the delivery of crates of equipment over the holidays.

By mid-January, I had a dozen cultures brewing, bubbling, eating, and defecating in twice as many flasks.

I was pretty sure that Alexander knew I was doing something that I didn't want to talk about. I did not feel that there was any danger to the ship, and it was easy to arrange the duty roster to make sure that I had the time I needed.

Anconia Compound, Virginia, January 23, 2018, Ensign Davey Jones's Journal

Fabiop was seated behind me, in Sea Cadet uniform. We expected people would think he was some sort of aide-de-camp. It must have worked. Either that or something he projected. No one seemed interested in him. I was in the chair beside the one reserved for Jonathan. That raised some eyebrows, but no one said anything.

When Jonathan walked into the room, Fabiop and I stood. The others followed fairly quickly. I thought that was a good sign. It got even better when Jonathan walked around the table and shook hands–and exchanged an occasional back-slapping hug–with everyone there. These people were the first of the Romanov Organization to come on board, to commit unconditionally to Jonathan, to agree to give up their old lives and jobs to become part of Jonathan's team. And, they'd been screened. By Fabiop and me for the most part, but also by Jonathan.

The fact that one of them was a mole, in the pay of the KGB, was still known only to Jonathan, Fabiop, and me–and Mr. Anconia. Mr. A seemed to get a kick out of that, and suggested some ideas for dealing with the situation. I think he'd had experience and wondered–not for the first time–how many trips he'd made to the Grove.

This convocation was more like that of the Anconia family than the initial Romanov meeting. The conference room was considerably more plain, although coffee and tea were served in bone china and the tea was made in a samovar. It wasn't the room or the trappings, but somehow, there was no question that this was a place of power.

"Thank you all for being here," Jonathan began. "There is a lot of feeling behind those simple words. I know that you have given up home and careers to become part of what may be a dangerous, and certainly a difficult undertaking. I thank you and honor you for that."

He gestured toward me. "You may remember this young man from our meeting in Nassau. He is an American, but also a member of the United Nations Science Corps. I met him on board the Global Explorer. His name is David Jones, and he is the head of my Information Technology–or IT–Department. In fact," Jonathan said, and then chuckled. "At the moment, he is the entire IT department.

"In this case, IT means a great deal more than computers. Mr. Jones is also an expert in scheduling, logistics, and planning. He is also my chief of staff. He will likely be involved in every aspect of our reclamation of Russia."

This was the first time Jonathan had come out and flat said that he was going to reclaim Russia–meaning that he was going to claim the throne. I felt an electric current flow among the Romanov people. They knew this was the reason they were here, but this was the first time it had been plainly expressed. This was what they and their ancestors had dedicated their lives to.

It was also the first time he'd called me his chief of staff. He hadn't even told me. I felt an uneasy feeling in my tummy when I heard that.

Jonathan turned to me. We had talked about this part of it, so I knew what to say. "One of our first tasks will be to ensure that Jonathan's communications and computer systems are safe.

"We know that the late premier was afraid that the American National Security Agency had penetrated even his private office in the Kremlin. As it happens, he was right. But even he did not know who else had penetrated that security. I am sorry, but I cannot be more specific. However, the flaws in his computer and communication security were instrumental in his execution.

"Today, it is most often children, teens, and tweens, who have a seemingly innate understanding of computers. They are the ones, often considered geeks by their classmates and contemporaries, who have the depth of understanding we need.

"Will you canvas your children and, if they and you are willing, make them party to this? We need their help. Some of what we must do will be done through the dark side of the internet. It is something not often discussed and little known. More than 90% of the information on the internet, more than 90% of the communications, are hidden from ordinary people. We need people who can operate in the dark side."

Jonathan continued with the agenda, which included discussion of the many things that would have to come about before, during, and after the takeover.

Speaking of the dark side: we had to deal with the KGB mole. We knew he was there, and we knew he would relay to his masters everything that was decided here. On the other hand, we thought we could also feed him some disinformation. Jonathan was careful to say only things that he knew would be sent to the KGB.

The best way to deal with the mole, Mr. Anconia had said, was to get him alone, to make him think he was "special" and that he was more important than he really was. Since that was Mr. A's idea, Jonathan asked him to handle the details.

"Count von Bismarck?" Francisco's greeting was hearty, but just a little–how can I say?–humble? "You look like a man who would enjoy a good cigar. I don't often get to smoke, and even less often with someone who appreciates a good cigar. Would you join me in the solarium?"

That this self-proclaimed count was a fake was first revealed in his eagerness to associate with the aristocracy of wealth he knew Francisco to be. That he was shallow was revealed when Mr. A gave him not a Cubana Perfecto cigar, but an inferior knock-off, and not a Napoleon brandy, but a cheap substitute distilled from leftover wine in California.

I was pretty sure, then, that Mr. A had at least some of the same gifts that Jonathan and I had received from the dryads. I peeked through the glass doors as the two men laughed, talked, and exchanged confidences. All part of Mr. A's plan.

"Although Jonathan thinks he is ready to take over, he is not. There are too many barriers . . . "

Knowing that his words would be reported to the remnants of the KGB, Francisco continued.

"You must not let the others know. Their unquestioned loyalty and support are essential to his plans." Francisco sighed. "And his plans are far, far too ambitious. It will be months, perhaps longer, before he is ready. And, a lot can happen in that time."

The Romanovs, including the Count, had returned to their townhomes. We were monitoring the mole's comm links, but were not fast enough to tap into the network he used from a local public library.

Jonathan had invited Fabiop to join us after the convocation.

"Fabiop," Jonathan said. "You and your brothers have committed yourselves to our cause. May I know why?"

I was startled by the question, but Fabiop seemed to understand.

"We–the dryads–understand perhaps better than anyone the effects of global climate change on the ecosphere. We know that growing zones are moving to higher latitudes and elevations. We know that rainfall and drought are both increasing in severity. We know that desertification has covered perhaps 20% of Earth's surface, and that this is advancing.

"We also know that Alexander Anconia–and now, you–are committed to stopping, perhaps reversing that.

"This I promise you," Fabiop said. "On behalf of all the dryads who still live: We will support Alexander and you as long as you remain committed to these goals."

Jonathan stepped toward Fabiop and grasped him in a hug. "Fabiop, for you and for all your brothers, in my name and that of my brother, Alexander, I promise the commitment for which you are looking, and I thank you for your help."

I stepped toward them, and was welcomed into their embrace. And afterwards, into the bed which found the three of us naked and pressed tightly together.

Fabiop seemed eager to bring both Jonathan and me to climax using his hands and mouth. He lay between us, switching from one to the other, breaking off when he sensed that his target was approaching climax.

He's a fast learner, I thought. Either that, or his memories are–

That's as far as I got with that thought. I felt Fabiop's lips pressing hard against the base of my penis as I exploded into his throat.

Afterwards, I was able to bring Fabiop to climax at the same instant Jonathan gasped and poured his essence into Fabiop.

UFC Headquarters, January 24, 2018

Mr. Lennox had delivered the annual report and balance sheet. He was uncomfortable in the Lady Chapel so far below the Cathedral. He was more uncomfortable with the news he had received only minutes before the meeting.

"The IRS enforcement division has sent a letter asking–demanding, actually–that we explain certain expenditures," Lennox said. "The expenditures include payments to public relations firms and two accounts that are cut-outs between us and political action committees."

"How did they get that information?" the Bishop demanded.

"We do not know, sir. The accounts are overseas, and for decades have been secure. However, the American government is pressing international bankers to reveal the owners of accounts and the sources of revenue. Perhaps we should reconsider, and place funds in accounts with US banks."

Near Canadian Forces Station Alert, Nunavut, Canada, January 25, 2018

Asuilaak and Carlos Anconia did a "you first, no you first" dance in the control room of the first hydrogen fusion power plant to be built in Nunavut. Asuilaak won when he pointed out that what was to happen was technology, and that technology was the purview of Anconia Industries. Carlos agreed, reluctantly, but whispered to Asuilaak, "You win this round, brother, but I have a long memory."

Asuilaak laughed. "So do I, brother."

Carlos pulled the lever, sending a coded signal–and a flow of water–to the hydrogen generator, the biggest ever created, and one that immediately began to pump out megaWatts of electricity.

Some of the power was diverted to the atmospheric carbon sequestration plant, which pulled air into its huge plenums. Some of the power was sent to the Nunavut power grid, to provide electricity to CF Station Alert and the surrounding community. Some was sent to the salmon hatchery, recently completed. Carlos and Asuilaak watched as the meters showed power consumption, and were pleased. They watched as the demand meters showed a decrease in their consumption of hydroelectric power from the Quebec grid. Slowly, slowly, that demand decreased as engineers switched from hydro to hydrogen.

The Quebec grid hardly noticed. After all, Nunavut was sparsely settled–and primitive.

Global Explorer, January 26, 2018

&sciencetruthnolies: no such thing as clean energy, but closest ever now on line in canada

"He knows too much," I said when Nicky showed me the message. "How can he know about Nunavut?"

"He's being very careful. He didn't say Nunavut, just Canada. We don't know for sure that he means Nunavut," Nicky said. "And no one else does, either. There's nothing secret or specific in what he said. And there's no way to know exactly what he meant. It might not be the Nunavut station. He didn't mention Anconia, either."

"Still, he knows more than he should."

CHAPTER END NOTE: For a short but comprehensive discussion of desertification, see the link below, or Google "Ted Talk desertification."

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