The Milestone Protocol, Ernest Dempsey [100 best novels of all time txt] 📗

police, all the hospitals, all the doctors, all the politicians. There are still some out there who could cause problems. They are not problems we can’t handle, but I tend to lean toward efficient usage of time.”

“So, you killed him to save time?”

“Yes,” Magnus answered plainly. “We barely escaped with our lives from that ambush. I must admit, though, I underestimated Sean Wyatt and his friends.”

Kevin thought he detected a hint of pride in the man’s statement. “What happened with Sean Wyatt?”

“Hmm?” Magnus looked over at Kevin.

The driver drove up another ramp and back onto the highway, heading toward the city.

“You were some kind of benefactor or something for Sean? What happened?”

“Nothing happened. Sean’s and Tommy’s endeavors have proceeded just as I had hoped. It was I who put the seeds into their minds that grew into the careers they chose. I knew of Tommy first because of his parents and their reputation for finding the unfindable. We analyzed the boy’s test scores, his grades in school, and a few other metrics. Same for Wyatt, by the way. The order has access to every state-issued test you’ve ever taken from first grade all the way through to your postgraduate entrance exam.”

That statement unnerved Kevin, but he hid it from Magnus and let the man continue.

“Wyatt had incredible test scores and also the gift of improvisation. He could think on his feet, change course in the blink of an eye when put into rigorous situations. He was a perfect candidate for government work.”

Magnus sighed and took a drink from a water bottle sitting in the cup holder to the side. “Eventually, though, he made his own decision and joined Axis, one of the few agencies we have no control over. Fortunately, they still operate as one of our puppets. We simply use references from the other agencies.”

“References?” Kevin puzzled.

“Yes. We do not have direct access to Axis, but when we need a job done, we simply have one of the other agencies—CIA, for example—call the president, tell them it’s a top-level job, and the president contacts the Axis director to fill them in on the issue. It’s an extra hoop or two we have to jump through, but it always works. Sooner or later, everyone works for the order.”

“I’m starting to see that.”

Magnus flashed a toothy grin and raised the bottle. “You’re on the winning side, Dr. Clark. There can be only one, and the Fellowship is it.”

Kevin let the words sink in for nearly a minute. He turned and looked out the window at the skyscrapers, the colorful churches and business façades, the homes, the people walking on the sidewalks and driving down perpendicular streets that ran under the highway. They were all sheep, he realized. They would all go about their day believing that they were in control of their fates, their futures. They would read the news on their mobile devices or watch it on television and believe everything they were being told as though it were gospel.

The world was living a lie.

And those who didn’t believe the fiction spewing forth from the media would be called deniers or conspiracy theorists—two labels that almost magically discredited anyone who ever uttered the words deep state or controlling body. Kevin had seen it before.

Few people in his field bought into such far-fetched theories. Archaeologists and anthropologists were largely focused on data, evidence that could be measured and seen and not be refuted.

Those few colleagues, however, who believed the wild theories were relegated to academic exile. Some were tenured professors who, because of their years of service, could not be fired but were instead stuffed into back offices in the far reaches of campus, denied speaking engagements, and faced a reduction of class schedules.

Kevin had known the reality of things for some time. It was Magnus who funded the search for the lost cities of Sarai. While Kevin wasn’t comfortable seeing friends and peers murdered in cold blood, it was join or become one of the billions of dead that would soon litter the planet.

In the new world the Cult of Thoth would create, Kevin would be one of the foremost archaeologists; above all others. Magnus promised he would be well cared for, given riches, homes across the globe, and unlimited funding for his research after the chaos ended. He would be part of the ruling class that controlled everything. It was that, or die. Initially, the choice had been a difficult one for Kevin, but it didn’t take him long to come around.

Now he was sitting with the most powerful person in the world. In his car. And they were being driven to a location in the Arctic Circle where an ancient pyramid stood deep within a snow-covered mountain.

“You’re having second thoughts?” Magnus asked, breaching the silence that had settled over the car’s interior.

“No,” Kevin said a little too quickly. He kept his eyes focused out the window. “I was just thinking about all those people out there, the sheep. They’re not robots, as you say, but they’re pretty close to it when you watch them go about their days.”

“Yes,” Magnus agreed. “In a way, you’re right. Do you want to know the secret to making them believe whatever we want?”

Kevin faced the man again and found that Magnus was staring at him with cold, steely blue eyes.

“Yes,” he answered, though deep down he wasn’t sure he did want to know the answer.

“You make them believe they have a choice.”

Kevin frowned at the answer. “How do you do that?”

“You give them choices,” Magnus answered matter-of-factly. “It’s simple, really. Think about everything in your life, Dr. Clark. Two major cola manufacturers, two fast-food chains, two carmakers, and two political parties.”

After a few seconds of consideration, Kevin responded. “Yeah, but there are other burger places, other carmakers—by the dozens, and you have all kinds of soft drinks out there. Other nations have lots of political parties, too.”

“Yes, that’s true. All those lesser companies are usually owned and run by the two major