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Authors: William Gladstone

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BOOK: The Power of Twelve
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Jim noticed that George would need help to get upstairs and asked Arnold, the bodyguard Eugene Green, Jack, and Otto to each take an arm or a leg and carry George to his room, where they gently placed him on his bed fully clothed, shut his door, and turned out the light.

Four hours later, George woke up with minor diarrhea and stomach cramps. He was no longer inebriated, but he was not fit as a fiddle. His stomach hurt and he was cramping from his overindulgence in the meats and desserts. “Damn, I should have known better,” he thought as he saw his blurry image in the bathroom mirror. George opened the cabinet behind the mirror, hoping to find antacids or other medicine that might relieve his stomach cramps. Yet he found nothing helpful, and after another sharp cramp George remembered that when he visited the alchemy lab the previous morning, Jim had displayed the many home remedies that he, a former chemist, had re-created. These were stored in glass jars carefully labeled with the name and the ailment for which each home cure had been used in ancient times.

The clock on the antique bedside table said it was 4:44 in the morning. He did not want to wake anyone, so he took off his shoes and carefully tiptoed down the stairs to find a cure for his stomach cramps. As he entered the basement, he was shocked to see Eugene Green and Arnold Wheeler in a room just to the side of the entrance to the alchemist's lab. They were attaching canisters with big red logos to the air ducts connecting the Chateau's heating system to the individual rooms.

“What the hell are you guys doing down here?” George blurted out almost instinctively.

Eugene Green froze, ashamed of what he was doing, and just looked at Arnold, not knowing what to say. Arnold got down from the step stool he was using to place some elaborate-looking canisters. Looking George straight in the eye, he said with a calm smile, “Better you just go back to bed, George.” He assumed, as had been
customary for the past fifty years of their relationship, that George would do exactly as he suggested.

But George was not himself and did not behave normally.

“No, I'm not going back to bed. I came down here to get some antacids or home cure for a little bit of indigestion, and I'm not going back upstairs until I do.” Rather aggressively he added, “And what the hell are you guys doing down here? I don't know a lot about these things, but I can tell that some of those canisters contain poisons, and others look like mini nuclear devices.”

Caught red-handed, Eugene started to explain, but Arnold interrupted. “Eugene, I think I can handle this myself. George and I have been friends for many years, and we will just talk this out. You have done important work this evening. Best you get some sleep, as we may have to implement our plans later this morning.”

“Whatever you say, Mr. Wheeler,” Eugene responded as he left the basement and headed back upstairs. For the first time in his many years of employment as Arnold Wheeler's bodyguard, Eugene allowed a hint of resentment and irritation in his reply.

In the interim, Arnold had taken George by the shoulder and maneuvered him out the door and into the alchemy lab next door. He went to the shelf that contained the home remedies, selected one that highlighted its use for “stomach cramps and indigestion” written in French, which Arnold spoke fluently, and poured a glass of water into which he inserted three tablespoons of a white powder.

“Here, drink this, George,” Arnold said as he handed him the glass.

“How do I know this isn't some of the poison you were just connecting up to those air ducts?” George asked, still unsure what was going on.

“Now, now, George, why would I poison you? You're one of my dearest and oldest friends,” Arnold said.

“I don't know, but why would you poison any of these nice people here at the Chateau?” George scratched his forehead, trying to understand what was going on. “You seemed so enthusiastic about their plans. You even offered to give them a billion dollars. I was surprised by how generous you are being, but I thought you had just changed your mind about this whole Project Wake Up deal.”

“George, you are such a child,” Arnold answered, more pitying George than exasperated with him. He brought the glass to George's mouth and had him take first a sip, and then down the entire glass of bubbling medicine.

“Say, that does feel better,” George stated as he wiped his lips and sat back in the chair. “I just need a few minutes to rest and let this medicine do its work. While I'm recovering, do explain to me what's going on.”

“To some extent you are correct about my flip-flop on Project Wake Up,” Arnold began. “But the change in my position is based on my surprise that the project may actually succeed, not any desire that I might have to
see
it succeed. Given what is at stake, I need a plan B in case I am unable to persuade the other members of the Illuminati not to participate. You have done your job well, and everyone seems to trust the both of us. They have already given me the names and contact information for their primary donors and supporters, but much to my surprise, some of the major potential supporters are not members of the Illuminati. Some are people over whom we have no control. We need a plan B to ensure that if we fail to derail the project through our influence, we can still derail the project through other means.”

“By other means, do you mean poisoning our friends or blowing up the Chateau?” George asked, starting to understand why Arnold and Eugene Green had been placing canisters at five o'clock in the morning.

“George, these people are not our friends. They are misguided idealists who do not understand how the world really works. If the information they intend to share with hundreds of millions of people actually is shared, the world will change radically, and not for the good,” Arnold started to explain.

“Well, they seem friendly to me, and I don't understand how helping people learn how to take care of themselves is going to hurt anyone,” George countered.

“George, think about it. Think about your family. Do you really believe that if everyone had the ability to make their personal wishes come true, they would need your family's oil and energy products
in the way that they do now? Do you really think that your wealth and that the wealth of your true friends would not quickly be eliminated with this insane desire of your new Project Wake Up acquaintances to redistribute the knowledge of the universe to every person on this planet? If you start with the redistribution of knowledge and information, it is only a matter of time before you start to see the redistribution of actual wealth. I was taught this lesson by my mentor, Mackenzie Hardy, when I was just a boy, and that lesson is as true today as it was then,” Arnold concluded with a calm air of certainty.

“You may be right about all this,” George said. “I really do not understand all this mumbo jumbo about thought directing action and how people are empowered by knowledge, but I do know that it seems wrong to blow up the Chateau and hurt these people. They mean well, and I doubt their Project Wake Up is going to have much impact even if they do raise their hundred billion dollars,” George suggested, hoping that he might be able to convince Arnold to change his plans.

“I hope that is the case, and that plan A remains in place. I really do think I can just derail the entire project through persuasion with other members of the Illuminati, but it is better to be safe than sorry. We need to have a Plan B, and in this case, even a Plan C, just to destroy the organization if necessary.” Arnold patted George's knee, reassuring him that the plan was really a matter of prudence. “Eugene and I have just been making precautionary plans. We can use our remote activators at anytime from anywhere in the world to either poison those who are sleeping here, our plan B, or our plan C, to blow up the entire Chateau. We are not intending to do so at this moment, mind you, but if by the time of the next Project Wake Up board meeting I have not been able to quash the project, we may have no other choice. I will, of course, let you know so that you will not be present for any unpleasantness that may occur.”

Arnold helped George to his feet and escorted him upstairs.

After seeing that George had safely returned to his room, Arnold knocked on the door of Eugene Green's room. Eugene had anticipated Arnold's knock and had remained fully dressed.

“I am afraid that we will have to go directly to Plan C,” Arnold announced with deadly calmness. “George is too much of a loose cannon and his discretion cannot be trusted. Be ready when we leave later this morning to activate the nuclear device.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

THE NATURE OF THE SEEDS

L
ATER THAT MORNING George Bush woke up with only the mildest of hangovers. He still had a headache and diarrhea, though, and barely made it to the bathroom in time.

“You really stink,” laughed Harry the Hilarious as George released additional gas.

“Never again. I swear. I am never going to mix so many foods at once no matter how tempting.”

“Not a problem for me, George. I'm going to be with you only a short time longer anyway. In fact, based on what I heard Arnold tell you last night, that time might be even shorter than we had thought.”

George's mouth opened in horror, remembering the conversation in the basement. “So last night was not just a bad dream. I really did catch Arnold and Eugene rigging up the basement to poison everyone or blow up Chateau Mcely altogether, didn't I?”

“Yes, you did, George. I'm afraid your friend Arnold is evil.”

“But he's been my best friend for almost fifty years. He's really smart and he's always looked out for me.” George was upset by this revelation, and he tried to think of ways to explain what Arnold was plotting. “He has lots of responsibilities, and perhaps he knows best.”

“Come on, George. You must be joking. Do you really think Arnold is worthy of being your best friend?”

George was pensive as he considered the enormity of what he had uncovered. “I have never wanted to know the details of what Arnold does or how he does it,” he said quietly. “Perhaps I should have paid more attention. It was always curious to me that Arnold was so insistent that I avoid Washington or New York City on September 11, 2001.” He squirmed uneasily at that thought. “I know that he has sometimes had to resort to violence to ensure that the world would maintain a sense of order, but he has always insisted that he was motivated by what was good for the planet as a whole and that when violence was used, it was to prevent even greater violence in the future,” George said, trying to defend his relationship with Arnold.

“And even after last night you still believe that?” Harry asked.

“I have had my doubts about Arnold, but until last night I had never seen him actually doing anything evil.” George was starting to understand that for the first time in his life he was going to have to stand up to Arnold and prevent acts that he knew were wrong. “What should I do? Should we tell the others?”

“I think you need to be careful not to create any panic. Also, just confronting Arnold could lead to immediate disaster. He clearly has the resources to blow up the Chateau, and he is ruthless enough to use them. I'll tell you what. Find an excuse and see if you can meet with Barbara, Horatio, and Inéz. That will allow Karl, Abigail, Lily, and me to confer and form a plan of action,” Harry suggested.

DURING BREAKFAST, ARNOLD was at his most charming.

“You know, I am so impressed with the selfless commitment of the entire Project Wake Up team that I would like to invite you all as my guests on my yacht,
Always Good
, this May when I make my annual trip to the Cannes Film Festival. Just before coming on this visit to Chateau Mcely I was given a tour of my new six-hundred-foot
beauty. I have always loved my yachts, and I have to say this one is the most beautiful and best appointed of any I have owned. The staterooms are exquisite, and we have our own mini submarine for diving expeditions, a tennis court, squash court, bowling alley, and numerous unexpected amenities, including a full spa for the ladies.”

“That is so kind of you, Arnold,” Eve exclaimed, barely able to hide her excitement over such a wonderful invitation.

“Yes,” Inga and Jack and Gayle joined in. Gayle commented, “I owned a number of yachts myself when I lived in Kauai. Nothing as grand as what you describe, but I love to sleep out on the open sea. This sounds like a lot of fun. I hope Randall will be free to join us then as well.”

“So, it is settled. I will see you all in May. I must get going now, as I have a commitment to have dinner in Dublin this evening with Mackenzie Hardy the Third. Like his grandfather, whom I cherished as my business mentor, Mackenzie is a man of great perspicacity. I am sure he will be most interested in assisting with Project Wake Up and perhaps will offer to match my billion-dollar donation.”

Arnold rose from the breakfast table and nudged George to get him going. “Our pilot is expecting us at eleven-thirty this morning, so we should leave no later than ten-thirty. I will arrange for the G5 to fly you back to Texas, or you are welcome to join Mackenzie and me for dinner this evening in Dublin.”

When he wanted to be, George was as smooth as anyone. “I think Laura has plans for us tomorrow night, so I'll pass on the dinner invite, but I appreciate the invitation. I have always enjoyed Mackenzie's hospitality. Give him a big hello from me.” George rose to his feet as well. “I just want to make one quick visit to the garden, which I never did get to see. Don't worry, I'm already packed. I'll meet you in the driveway in twenty minutes,” George responded as naturally as he could as he made his way toward the main door to the Chateau.

“You know, I'd like a chance to see the garden myself,” chimed in Barbara and Horatio almost in unison. “Can we join you?”

“Of course. Actually, perhaps Inéz can give us a quick tour since we have only a limited amount of time,” George suggested.

BOOK: The Power of Twelve
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