MR. X (40 p1)

MR. X (40 p1)

“Did he just move?”

“I doubt that.
In four years he hasn’t.
Why now?
He doesn’t even breathe.
You’ve just been on watchdog duty for too long.”

“But I could swear… I’m checking the logs.”

Monitors rewind, slow motion ensues.

“There! Right there! I knew it!”

“Well I’ll be saved.
He blinked.”

The Daughter of Zion enters the core chamber,
officers stand at attention
as she examines the evidence.
A female child stands by her side
faithfully waiting;
silent as her mother takes charge.

She commands, “at ease”

The soldiers relax.

And then the explosions begin.

Viewing the monitors,
the Daughter of Zion witnesses
a battle ensuing on the upper entry levels
of this underground home.

She demands,
“How many?!”

A weapons officer closes in
with cameras onto the scene,
two nuns are attacking the entire army.
The officer replies,
“Just those two!
And they’re bypassing security access codes!”

An intelligence officer reports,
“I’m tracing their access codes now.
They’re linked to our mainframe somehow
allowing them clearance past security checkpoints.”

The Daughter of Zion wants to know,
“How did they get in here in the first place?”

A young ensign says,
“probably with that nun orgy we just commandeered.”

The intelligence officer responds,
“I’m tracking their clearance codes now.
It will take some time
to trace and pinpoint the reason they are…”

The Daughter of Zion interrupts,
“Just do it!!”

A half hour passes.

The answer,
“They’re codes were created
by the Merovingian-Oracle.”

The Daughter of Zion pauses taking a deep breath.
She switches on the mass communication device,
“All forces!
Lay down your weapons and surrender!
I repeat Surrender!”

Around the underground guns are put to the floor
and the army takes the position of worship.

The two nuns pause
not even breaking a sweat,
removing their hoods
they reveal the fullness of their faces.

The Daughter of Zion whispers,
“Get me a close up.”

A snap is taken just before
the nuns begin jogging past
the surrendering army
increasing their speed exponentially.

The ensign comments,
“they look Jewish”

The Daughter of Zion replies,
“They are.
I’d recognize sisters of my own breed
in a black out.
How much damage?”

The weapon’s officer reports with astonishment,
“Three thousand of our elite soldiers dead.”

The intelligence officer gasps,
her composure broken,
“three thousand?!
in the space of a half hour?!
By only two nuns?!”

The monitor watches
as the nuns run down corridor
and hallway picking up speed.

The ensign reports,
“They’re gaining speed.
Faster and faster.
This isn’t possible!
They’re headed down here.
And they’re deactivating cameras as they go!”

The Daughter of Zion enquires,
“How long?”

The intelligence officer maps their speed,
calculating the exponential growth,
factoring in their path of descent
to this holy, sacred place,
and finally reporting with awe,
“Fifteen minutes.”

The ensign shrieks,
“It takes seven days from
the main congregation hall to here!!
What the hell do you mean fifteen minutes?!”

The Daughter of Zion commands,
“Be quiet.”

She walks to Flux Paradox and questions,
“Why did you blink?”

Flux Paradox does not respond.

Monitors black out.

One monitor remains.
The intelligence officer comments,
“All cameras are disabled,
save our surface world feeds.”
The Daughter of Zion orders,
“On screen.”
As the screen plays the remaining cameras
the surface world one after the other,
the Daughter of Zion gasps,
“It’s an army.”
She looks at the females in Muslim black dress,
weapons at the ready.
She is amazed,
“and not a single male among them.”
The weapon’s officer studies the eyes carefully,
as she sees the fierce COMMANDO LOYALTY in them,
she deduces correctly,
“Oh no.
There is a male.
Just one.
And he’s leading them.
He’s in charge.”

The intelligence officer receives a communiqué,
“Our troops are being left instructions
by the nuns to move out
to the main congregation hall immediately.
They’re obeying.”

The Daughter of Zion looks around at the present staff,
pointing to the intelligence officer,
the weapons officer,
and the ensign,
she order, “You three stay.”
Speaking to the rest she commands,
“All of you get out now.
Pack up and go.
It will take you one week to reach there.”

Fifteen minutes pass.

There’s a knock on the door.

The Daughter of Zion goes to open it.

The weapon’s officer mutters under her breath,
“I can’t believe we’re surrendering
to two God-damned Jewish nuns.”

The nuns enter.
One kills the weapon’s officer immediately saying,
“we heard that.”
The other accesses the terminal,
her hands flying on the keyboard until she reports,
“we see the package.”

The Jewish Sisters stare at Flux Paradox momentarily.
They shudder in fear.
The Daughter of Zion looks on curiously.

The two attackers attach a cord to the computer,
splitting into two more cords,
they remove their abbas even further
to reveal a jack in the back of their neck
directly on their spinal cords.

They plug in.

The ensign whispers in reverence,
“they’re machines.”

Removing the cord from their spinal entrance,
they stand at parade rest.
Diplomatically they address the Daughter of Zion,
“Now, we wait.”

The Daughter of Zion questions,
“For what exactly?”

One nun corrects,
“not what. whom.”
The other concludes,
for Him.”
Together in holy harmony,
“the Merovingian-Oracle.”

Seven days pass.

All areas between the main congregation hall
and the core chamber of Flux Paradox
have been cleared out.

The black oil is completely around me.
It has evolved to a black fire.
My eyes still shine
with the Power of the Oracle.
My army of Muslim women await on the surface.
Four years have passed since the Oracle’s gift to me.
Four years since I left,
placing the Daughter of Zion in charge
of making the Holocaust Concentration Camp
a living reality
to punish the underground survivors.
Four years since I’ve interacted
with my mirror image of Flux Paradox.

I open the door as the Daughter of Zion runs into my arms,
“HONEY! I’M HOME!”