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The Other Seal by Michael Archer
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The Other Seal: Part 1
Date: 8 June 2007, 2:11 am
The sun rose through the window and right into the eye of Michael Arashel. He squinted, looked away and tried to clear the imprinted picture of the sun still burned to his retinas.
How long have I been standing here for?
He had been trying to gather the mental strength to acutally sift through the titanic pile of newspapers lethargically thrown right in front of the boxes. A good two hundred of them, each belonging to one person on the seventeen story hi rise.
Okay, enough procrastinating, just do it.
The sound of a door opening diverted Michael's attention away from the mailboxes and to the opposite direction.
"Good morning Michael".
Michael looked up and smiled.
"Oh good morning Sam. Are you off to work soon?"
"Yes I am!", Sam replied. "Today's the day I get my promotion, I can feel it".
Michael chuckled. "Well good luck! If I remember, you have told me every morning for the past thirty....eight years I lived here and I don't see you in upper managment".
"Well, I feel really good about today!"
"I'm sure you do Sam".
Sam grinned.
"You got the day off Michael?"
"Yes….yes I do. I sick of those stupid customers who don't know a thing about their computers.
Sam chuckled and donned his grey, wide-spread hat. "Off to work for me! Oh, and could you grab my newspaper for me? Thanks!".
Michael turned back towards the mailboxes and frowned. There was plenty of time to grab the newspaper. The highlights were never any different anyway. Either some celebrity did something bad, or another hundred UNSC marines died in another battle.
Michael yawned and started to head back into his lonely apartment. Right as he put one foot in the entrance something hard and wooden smashed into his head, sending him to the ground.
Yes, Michael, the awning's still there. Hasn't moved since yesterday.
Rubbing his head, he strode into the kitchen and set the stove to heat up some water for a nice classic Canadian Red River cereal. Which would always stick in between his teeth and would be still finding pieces of it in the evening. He could never eat it during a work day since customers didn't like when a tech's teeth were full of grey, maggoty-looking cereal bits.
Perfect breakfast for a day off.
Michael had everything in the apartment just the way he liked it. Downstairs was his home theater where he has a seventy-five inch display which occupied an entire wall. The library was filled with mostly action movies with the occasional drama here and then. An instant popcorn maker and even a bar...if you would call a kitchen-like area with a fridge loaded with a few beers and soda a bar.
Upstairs he had a nice little computer with a wide-screen monitor and packed with games gotten from the computer store with a great 15% discount right next to a twin size bed with a down pillow.
Most of these things he inheritied from his parents....after they were put in a retirement home.
Michael inputed the desired ammount of water into the stove and pushed the button. The machine let out a high pitch beep as it started to drop water into the heating chamber.
And that's when the phone started to ring. At first Michael didn't want to accept that somebody was calling him, but as the signal travelled to the downstairs chime, it became even more clear.
No, not on my day off!
He trudged into the living room and pushed the ON button on the wall-mounted remote. A giant screen sluggishly rolled down the back wall. Usually, the screen would show the name of the person calling and sometimes a picture. But the screen was blank with just two words across it.
Private Caller
This gave Michael a shock. This has never happened before. In fact, he had his machine reject calls that were masked.
He reached out with one trembled finger and let it pass through the holographic "accept" button.
The buttons shrunk back into the screen and bold words changed.
Call Connected
"Hello?"
"Hello Michael", the voice that came through was very very familiar. Michael couldn't just put his finger on it.
"Um…can I ask who this is? And why are you blocking the video feed?"
"For safety reasons. And I think you know who this is".
Michael thought. An idea forced into his head but was quickly shaken off by the fact that that was impossible.
"I'm sorry….I don't know. Who is this?"
"I'm pretty sure you know….Master Chief Petty Officer".
Michael was flummoxed. "I'm sorry sir, you definitely have the wrong person". He reached his hand again to press the only button that had stayed: Disconnect.
"Wait, Michael stop!"
Michael paused, though a moment, got up, ran to the closet, grabbed a coat and threw it over his camera.
If I can't see him, he can't see me.
"I know you've never forgiven yourself Michael. I know you haven't forgiven yourself for thirty years. Now's your chance to. Please don't pass up this offer".
"If this is a fucking sales pitch I'm hanging up".
The voice on the other line seemed to be getting annoyed "It's not and don't. You will be able to see for yourself. Do you have a minute? Can you do something for me?"
"Odds point to no, but this is interesting. Go ahead and tell me".
"Can you go to the Pentagon and just wait at the front entrance?"
Michael considered this. The Pentagon was a very popular tourist attraction. There would be hundreds of people there which was not really a good place for a mugging.
He sighed. "Five minutes. Front door. That's all".
"Fair enough", the screen flicked off.
Michael reached into his pocket and pulled out a long tube with the letters S M T W T F S written from left to right. Every letter has a separate flip-up compartment.
"Friday", he whispered.
He opened up the "F" flap and looked inside. Laying at the bottom were a few multi-colored little capsules. He picked one up, put it in his mouth and swallowed it without water.
While massaging his throat as the pill went down, he thought. Why the hell did he agree to go down there? Maybe it was the caller's voice. It rang a bell, but not a clear bell. More like a rusty hundred-year-old bell. Not like a déjà vu either. All Michael knew that he had heard it before…..somewhere…..
The United States used to use the pentagon for National Security and defense. Long since decommissioned, it's now solely for tourists. As Michael approached the front door and gazed at the tourists, one question rose in his mind.
Don't these people have jobs?
In front of the gate was one of those standard x-ray detectors. Michael stepped into one and closed his eyes as the red lasers scanned up and down his body. After five seconds, they shut off and the detector let out a loud beep.
Michael groaned. This always happened.
A young man, in his early twenties stared at the computer screen and tried to make sense of the image.
"Jackie", he yelled at a woman at the other x-ray. "Could you come here for a minute please?
The woman jogged over and stared at the screen. She turned to Michael.
"Uh….sir, could I have your name please?"
"Um…Michael Arashel".
Jackie looked stunned. "Just…just follow that path down there".
Michael didn't ask any more questions. He nodded and started to walk down the path.
At the end of the path was a steel, metallic door with an old retinal scanner looking as if it was about to fall off. The door had three words written in yellow paint on it.
Authorized Personnel Only
He walked closer and looked at the retinal scan display monitor.
Ready to Scan
Michael hesitated.
Should I?
Michael didn't know how the security system worked. Best case scenario, an alarm sounds and security guards are on him in an instant. Worst, a handful of 50 caliber machine guns appeared out of nowhere and started taking shots.
He gulped and leaned his face into the scanner. A bright green laser moved slowly up and across his eye for a five seconds before turning off. Michael quickly removed his face and glanced at the feed screen hoping that nothing would blow up.
Access Granted. Welcome MICHAEL ARASHEL
The doors parted revealing a long dark hallway with only two lights; one flickering.
Michael was reluctant to go in. But two things drove him forward. One was the voice he had heard. And the other was that if the retinal scanner worked, somebody was obviously expecting him.
As soon as he stepped in, the doors slammed shut and the whole hallway was illuminated with similar lights. As he walked down the hallway, Michael's body had never been on a higher level of alert.
"Hello Michael", said the voice.
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