CARLOS & KATRINA

A Novel by Charles Adrian Trevino
Copyright 2006, 2018

________________________________________________


Chapter 8

Major General Daniel Murdock sat back in his folding chair and watched the unmanned, remote–controlled fighter jet that was returning from its test run.  The plane had flown perfectly, fired it's missiles which had struck all their targets perfectly, executed complex evasive maneuvers, and was now coming back to him like a trained bird of prey returning to its master.  But this was like no other hunting bird that had ever flown.  Murdock frowned as he shielded his face from the burning sun with his clipboard; this was something completely unnatural, something he had not reckoned with before.  As the P.A. system cackled out the successful return of the robot jet, Murdock felt an involuntary shudder run through him.   This was the beginning of the end, he thought to himself.

Murdock sighed as he watched Major General Michael Higgins walking down the tarmacadam toward him in the hot sun.  He had tried to reconcile himself to the new wave of robotic weapons that were now being fine–tuned and perfected for mass–production.  It was inevitable that combat weaponry would take this direction given the technology that was being devised by the military, and which now was also becoming available to them from numerous outside sources.  Murdock had been philosophical over the news of remote–controlled fighter planes, submarines, tanks and even three–wheeled motorcycles.  He had asked himself over and over again, what exactly did he want? Did he want his pilots to get shot down while strafing and bombing the so–called "bad guys?" Obviously not.  He was a professional soldier from a long line of military commanders, a highly experienced officer who nominally went by the book.  This was how he had risen through the ranks, by obeying orders and not asking questions.  It was a method which he had not diverted from in his youthful ambition.  But now everything was changing before his eyes.

Major General Higgins entered the temporary command post and sat down on the canvas folding chair beside Murdock.  "Well, that one went perfectly," he said.  Murdock frowned. "I don't know whether to be jubilant or worried," he said disdainfully. He wiped his brow as he watched the jet landing itself on the adjacent runway.  "I know our money–printing masters will be happy, that's for sure."

Higgins nodded.  "This puts them one step closer to total control.  Pretty soon they won't even need us anymore."

"That would certainly make it harder for us to put the brakes on," said Murdock.  "You know, I'd feel a little better if I knew who our masters really were.  I tell you, the thought of some sick little bastard launching an airstrike from his bed truly frightens me, Mike."

Higgins laughed.  "I suppose it's no worse than having some sick little bastard getting us to launch an airstrike.  I stopped trying to justify these things decades ago.  Ushers will always manipulate the wars for their own purposes.  What do I care as long as they pay me well?"

"Well, it's getting harder and harder to even justify it to the public.  Like this horseshit about Montania attacking the Rothman Building.  Who the hell would believe that?" Murdock frowned again, taking off his sunglasses and wiping them with his handkerchief.  "That building fell cleaner than a construction demolition job! Why? Because it was a construction demolition job! How could Salabin have got into those high–security buildings to plant top–secret incendiaries he didn't even have access to? Or do you believe that ludicrous explanation, that the airplane fuel could start a fire hot enough to melt steel beams? At least they could put up a better excuse for launching a devastating full–scale invasion of another country!"


"Why? If they justify a war, who's going to stop them? The military–industrial establishment? Us? We profit from it! Anybody who's anything profits from it.  Or if that's not enough, you could believe the propoganda if you want.  Maybe Montania and Taipang do pose a threat to us… somehow."

Murdock sneered.  "History doesn't exactly bear that out; they've never attacked us.  And we really have better ways of getting what we want instead of using military aggression. I'll tell you what Taipang does pose a threat to… global manipulation.  Our money–dealing friends want them under their thumbs to consolidate their financial and political control of the eastern hemisphere."

"Well then, I suppose you could believe that it's all done for our own good… like the intellectual spin–doctors say. Just sit back and shut up and everything will work out for the best," said Higgins.

"What bothers me," said Murdock, "is the ignobility of the thing.  Here you have these brave peasants, totally outgunned, laying down their lives to protect their people from what they see as evil incarnate… the corrupt and decadent west…and who can blame them? Look what our culture's descended to in just the last twenty years! And then we're gonna' send robots in there to massacre them while the Ushers make action–hero movies about it? I tell you, it's all getting too damned sick and twisted."

Higgins popped open a plastic bottle of water and took a long drink before he replied. "Persiana is too tempting a fruit for the financiers to pass up.  And then she sealed her fate by sheltering anti–Usher activists.  Anyone who opposes the Ushers in this day and age is signing their own death warrant… you know that, Dan."


Murdock sighed and looked down at the ground.  Lately it had gotten harder and harder for him to escape the feelings of guilt and culpability which had been plaguing his conscience, growing stronger with every passing year.  "Maybe those suicide–fighters are right.  Maybe death isn't such a bad option."

"Relax, Dan.  You're over–reacting.  This is all just business as usual.  Mean business." Higgins looked around at the Air Force compound that had been hastily erected in the desert sands.  "Besides, you never know who's listening in, do you? Aren't you afraid to even say the "U" word around here?"

Murdock looked around unconcernedly.  "Naw, I just had the place swept.  You can speak your mind here, at least for now."

Higgins gave his friend a serious look.  "Are you sure?" he said with a hint of warning in his voice.

Murdock glared back at him.  "I'm the guy in charge of the whole damned Air Force Surveillance Unit! Did you forget or something? I know what the hell I'm doing! If I tell you it's safe to talk, then don't worry about it, o.k?"

Higgins still wasn't sure; he had learned not to talk about certain things with certain people.  But Murdock was someone he felt he could trust.  He had worked with him for over 25 years; their fathers had also worked together in the military.

"Well, you know we're going to invade Taipang within the year, starting with massive aerial bombardment to soften 'em up for the ground troops.  That's where these robots planes are going to come in handy.  The Taipangese are pretty good at shooting 'em down, you know."

"Well, what would you do? And the more planes we lose, the more money we make.  The military is sucking up the country's money like a giant vampire bat," said Murdock gloomily.  "Of course, no civilian policymaker really gives a damn if a fighter pilot gets shot down, but too much of it looks bad in the news… especially if someone gets taken hostage.  More reason for them to step up the aggression, though.  Then they'll be able to get more of these hired mercenary thugs and brave, ignorant volunteers who are obsessed with protecting their country... by murdering innocent foreigners and polluting their culture!  Can you beat that?"

"They have to keep these volunteers ignorant… in order to keep them under control!  For godsake, it's good that they gather these troublemakers up and send them overseas!  Don't you see what's happening to the country these days?  Do you hear the music they're listening to now?  And the killings that happen at almost every one of their rock concerts and stadium events?  I thought it was bad ten years ago!  You can see it anywhere you go nowadays; these kids are animals, Dan!  Admit it!"  Higgins' voice had started to rise unsteadily.

Murdock glared down at the ground.  "They're animals because the Ushers made them that way, through their control of the media! These movies! The television programming… and that damnable music! You force–feed a person that crap while they're growing up and what the hell do you think you're going to get? A Jesuit priest? Not even the uneducated lower–classes used to behave like that! They're trying like hell to kill Christianity, while simultaneously spreading their gospel of hatred and ego–mania.  I tell you Mike, they're mass–producing greedy, avaricious monsters who don't give a damn how many innocent people die, so long as they can continue their meaningless, over–consuming lifestyles! Their quest for a shiny new sports car! And then to have these slick, sick Ushers presiding over the whole thing?" Murdock leaned in closer to his friend.  "You know the real reason they're doing it, Mike?  So that they won't look so evil and corrupt in comparison to the hardworking, honest, religious folk.  So that they can go out anywhere in society without worrying if someone knows who they are, and what they do.  So they can say 'let he who is without sin cast the first stone!'"

Higgins leaned back and let his friend complete his rant.  They sat in their canvas chairs brooding gloomily for a minute before he broke the silence.  "I sometimes wonder… if anything could ever be done to stop them," Higgins said quietly.

Murdock had completely vented himself.  Now he spoke calmly, without emotion.  "Well, I wonder what would happen if we did.  Would the rest of us eat each other alive without them anyway? They didn't always have this control over us, you know.  We don't need them to get us to kill each other." He looked over at the robot jet glinting in the harsh desert sun.  "What was it that peacenik rock star said, the one that got murdered a few years back?  'Give peace a chance?'  I wonder if it's ever been tried."  The two soldiers stood up and slowly stretched.

Higgins put his hand on his friend's shoulder as they watched the armored car that was pulling up to take them away.  "Try not to let it bother you so much, Dan.  It's just the way of the world.  Its always been that way... always will be."

"Yeah, yeah.  C'mon.  We better go make our report.  Our overlords are waiting."

**************



____________________________________________________________

Copyright 2006, 2018 by Charles Adrian Trevino.