Still Valley At 20,000 Feet, Mike Burns [read books for money .TXT] 📗

Washington,, Mr. Paradine. All those men suddenly became paralyzed, as still and lifeless as mannikins in a clothing shop. I saw some clearly that morning, on a little rise in the road about half a mile from the White House, a wagon full of enlisted men and their driver and horse. That was just a few minutes before you men and your lieutenant rode up to the front entrance and kicked the door in. Coming down the stairs, I saw that even my own Secret Service men were paralyzed, too. How fortuitous for you and your cause.
What do you know about that, Mr. Paradine? I’m curious. Men don’t just spontaneously freeze for any natural reason. And what happened to the rest of the Union’s armed forces? You waltz in, seize my capital, and take me and most of the Congress prisoner. You ship me off to this Georgian swampland. I have heard no sound of armed conflict since I was brought here. It’s as if the war was preemptorily ended by totally unnatural, even supernatural means.

PARADINE
Well...that’s a pretty incredible story, Mr. Lincoln. As I recall, we shot those Secret Service agents of yours, and they was movin’ around pretty spry and frisky, to MY recollection. We just outmaneuvered your troops, and Lee struck at Washington when you wasn’t lookin’, Mistuh President. An' as for the troops you saw in that wagon, I think you’re mistaken about them, too. They was probably Confederate soldiers, an’ the city of Washington had already fallen, and they were probably drunk, sir. They had started celebratin’ early, evidently--contrary to orders, of course.

ABRAHAM LINCOLN
Mr. Paradine, with all DUE respect, YOURS is a pretty outlandish story. I had been unable to sleep that night, and I was up most of the night, and I never heard any sound of musketry or artillery or the cries of men in combat that night or anytime that morning before your unit crashed into the White House. If any invasion of Washington had occurred under Mr. Lee and his army, I would have heard it well ahead of its arrival. With all DUE respect, sir, I know a lie when I hear one. And I also must ask you this, Mr. Paradine. Why do you always keep that briefcase so close to you, and have it chained and handcuffed to your hand? What could be so important to the president’s assistant that he must treat it like an outgrowth of his own body?

Paradine is spared having to make any answer by the re-arrival of President Davis, carrying two bottles of wine and a corkscrew, followed by three black servants bearing platters with numerous plates. The plates hold steaming heaps of steak cuts, omelettes, mashed potatoes, biscuits, and fruit. Gravy boats, mugs and pots of hot coffee are also perched atop the serving platters. They swiftly spread out and arrange these items atop the large, oval-shaped dining table.

ABRAHAM LINCOLN
As I said before, Mr. Davis, this kind of lavish hospitality is wasted on me. I’ll take a steak cut and one of those biscuits, and a mug of that coffee. That’s all I want. It’s not right, all this gluttony while so many Union soldiers are imprisoned with barely enough to sustain life. Especially imbibing wine in the morning--the immorality of such sensuality! More importantly, sir, I see some very disturbing hints of what’s going one here--disturbing from the standpoint of your condition for all eternity, sir. I was just telling Mr. Paradine here that his story of General Lee taking Washington by feinting and outmaneuvering the United States Army in the field simply does not bear up under scrutiny. I was awake nearly the whole night, and never heard anything remotely like the (CONTINUED)
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ABRAHAM LINCOLN
sound of thousands of troops invading the city. That would not be something any commander could hope to keep quiet. Mr. Paradine has told me of his affliction of sensitivity to sunlight, and I myself have noted his refusal to ever relinquish that briefcase. I think Mr. Paradine’s soul will not
bear too much light shone upon it, either. Nor will he ever relinquish his sinful role in this set of unnatural events, judging by what I‘ve seen of his character so far. That he had a major role in all this is apparent from the fact that a mere sergeant--yes, I’ve heard you start to call him that, then check yourself--should be elevated to the position of permanent advisor to the president of the Confederacy. And what he carries in that briefcase has something to do with it, I’m sure.

FOCUS ON PARADINE. His eyes redly flash with anger, momentarily, glaring out of the openings of the white hood.

ABRAHAM LINCOLN
Mr. Paradine, I think you have most grievously transgressed. I think you will live to see all you have wrought; I don’t know HOW you did it, but that’s unimportant. I think you will be denied the comfort of entering the hereafter and being blind to the ramifications of your doings. You’ll live to see hell on earth for yourself before you see it down below. Mark my words well.

An uncomfortable silence reigns with the other two. Lincoln, for his part, devotes himself to eating his frugal portion and polishing off his cup of coffee. Then he speaks again.

ABRAHAM LINCOLN
And like all who become vassals to the prince of this world, you’ve failed to understand his limitations. I hear things. I’ve learned the Seminole tongue, earlier in my career, and learned their drum and sign languages as well. The power you have doesn’t even extend over this whole continent. A couple of Seminole prisoners you keep here have said between themselves--within my hearing--that a priest in Louisiana, a Father Ricard, has built a chain of mission stations along the western side of the Mississippi. One of these Seminoles evidently became a Christian and left his old life behind when he went to the Mansfield area of Louisiana, to one of Father Ricard’s missions.
Your power will not extend to that side of the river, these Seminoles were saying between themselves. They spoke as though they had been there, and seen this. They said, more or less, that there is a “cloud of evil over the land, from the Great Water to the Great River,” which I take to mean between the Atlantic and the Mississippi. I think he told the truth about the limits of your power.

PRESIDENT DAVIS
Mr. President, I suspect you place too much faith in the maunderings of heathen Indians. The armed struggle between our countries continues on the other side of the Mississippi, though the Confederacy IS prevailin’ there, with California already firmly in our grip. Also, I think you place too much faith in the nefarious machinations of the Romish church. Those heathen devils do seem to have snagged three more dupes--the two Seminoles, and yourself, sir.


(CONTINUED)
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PARADINE
I grew up not far from the Maryland border, Mr. Lincoln. That state is a haven for papistry. I heared tell of blood offerin’s in their popish churches to that there goddess of theirs many a-time as I was growin’ up.

ABRAHAM LINCOLN (ignoring this for the moment)
But the fact that a fight HAS gone on there is proof enough that your strategy of freezing everyone into mobility has failed there, unlike what you have evidently been able to do on this part of the continent, Mr. Davis. You but prove my case, sir. Your wine undermines your deception. As for the church of Rome, I don’t agree with all their doctrinal and theological assertions. But I do remember the prophet Joel’s admonition: He who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved. I believe that puts them in good standing, those who genuinely believe. Indeed, I even entertain the possibility that Father Ricard might be the “eagle” referred to in Revelation 8:13. “...and I heard an eagle, flying in mid-heaven, saying with a loud voice, ’Woe, woe, woe to them that dwell upon the earth...’ “ Perhaps the words of the