No More Learning

There was no escape for those who were caught by the
automated target aquisiation. Where the Skydragons had
raged, a cruel picture remained. Innumerable bodies were
covering the blood-soaked streets of Paris.
Alexander, the family father, recognized a man in the corner
of his eye. His head was torn, while he still tried to creep
forward, pulling a bloody trace over the street. It was
horrible. The Russian was shaken by doubts again, but he
finally suppressed them. It had to be done, it was an order,
and his only choice was to kill. Then he kept on shooting at
the ants, down there on the ground.

While policemen, soldiers and tanks were called to other
parts of Paris, in order to eliminate insurgents, the day came
to an end.

But the riots still lasted for two further weeks. Many
discontented Parisians attacked the local police stations in
their districts or assaulted local politicians. The head
administrator of Paris, Richard de la Croix, was shot in the
open street by an unknown man. Burning cars and houses,
firing tanks and policemen, ruled the street picture in many
parts of the furious metropolis for days.
But in the end the order was restored. This time, the Lodge
Brothers who frequently used the lie as a their weapon, had
consulted its brother: the terror. And he was successful.
Even the bravest man was powerless against the unlimited
inconsiderateness of the security forces in the long term.
About 40000 people died in the riots and street fights on
01. 03. 2029, and in the following weeks. Moreover, several



192



hundred policemen and GCF soldiers were killed. Paris had
been drowned in blood. Now it was over. . .



193



With him



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.



194



"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.



195



"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



196



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



197



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 the 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



198



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



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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. . .