The Milestone Protocol Ernest Dempsey (best short novels of all time .txt) 📖

rubbing his eyes as he planted his feet on the floor and trudged over to the nook where the coffeepot sat atop a counter. The room was larger than he recalled the night before, with an open living room area and flatscreen television connecting the bedroom to the entrance. A workstation in the corner provided a place for people to get a little work done, complete with multiple electrical outlets and internet connections—though with Wi-Fi that seemed a bit superfluous.

Kevin pulled on his pants, then filled one of the coffee cups with the dark brew before making his way over to an empty chair in the corner near the window. He sat down and held the cup close to his nose, letting the rich aroma slither into his nostrils with every tendril of steam.

“You okay?” Sean asked, finally turning to look at his roommate.

“Yeah,” Kevin said after a long inhale and exhale. “I mean, as good as can be. I think I’m just in shock right now, or something like it. Honestly, I’ve never experienced shock, so I don’t know what it feels like.”

“Sometimes it feels numb,” Sean said. “It feels like nothing at all. Just this hollow, emptiness inside you.”

“That’s exactly what I’m feeling right now.”

“It’s terrible what you saw yesterday, what happened to your team. I still don’t have word from Tommy about it, but I would assume the worst. The thing for you to do right now is make sure all of that wasn’t in vain, which means stopping whoever did it and bringing them to justice.”

“How are we going to do that? I’m not a special agent or a cop or anything like that.”

“I know. And the people we’re dealing with—” Sean paused and considered whether he should tell Kevin everything. He decided the archaeologist deserved to know. His friends and coworkers had been murdered by a ruthless organization, and would have killed him the previous night had Sean not stepped in. “They are not easily dispatched.”

Kevin waited with his head cocked to the side like a dog awaiting a treat. “What are you talking about?”

“When I worked for the government, I heard rumors. Once or twice when I was on a mission, I overheard my targets talking about them. I’ve heard stories in Washington, too. I thought it was too big, that the scope of something like that wasn’t possible.”

“Scope of something like what?”

Sean’s voice disconnected from his body, sounding distant as he spoke. “For several years, Tommy and I have discussed the possibility of an overarching elite class, a group that all other secret societies bow to. This ruling class determines the fate of nations; they can manipulate economies, health care systems, the stock market, pretty much everything and everyone. No one knows them by name, but you can see their influence everywhere.”

“Secret societies,” Kevin echoed.

“Yes, but they all serve a master. Many conspiracy groups call this master a deep state. But it’s more than that, and far more sinister. In the darkest circles, they are known only as the shadow caste.”

“Shadow caste?” Kevin asked. Confusion seeped out of his narrowed eyes. “What do you mean?”

“The shadow caste,” Sean explained, “is much more than a deep state that rigs elections or, as many have suggested, tips the balance of certain economic factors. They control everything and everyone, pulling the strings of the entire planet. Wars have been waged at their bidding, the winners and losers predetermined by them as if it were all some grand experiment or game in a lab. Tommy is in Sweden right now, speaking on the subject at a symposium.”

Kevin huffed derisively and took another gulp of water from his bottle. “Yeah, that does sound a little crazy. One group controlling everything that has ever happened? Seems like a big job. Too big.”

“You’re right,” Sean said, still sounding like he was in a faraway place. “It does sound too big, which is precisely why no one ever considers it to be a legitimate hypothesis. I haven’t even really given it much credibility. It’s relegated to conspiracy-theory forums or discussed by drunk friends around a campfire. I’ve never believed it was true; one entity controlling all others. I blew it off as much as anyone else. Until last night.”

Kevin almost looked sorry for Sean, like someone visiting a loved one at a mental institution. “You okay, man? Need me to get you something?”

“You don’t understand, Kevin. The inscription on that tablet reveals the truth about this elite ruling class. Whenever I heard the rumors about them, certain words were always used to describe their actions—measure, watch, calculate, weighing the sins of man. That last one is eerily exact. We found a scroll that mentioned those words about three years ago in an abandoned monastery in France. Then I saw them again in a diary from the mid-nineteenth century. All of this points to a singular truth, one that I hoped wasn’t plausible.”

Sean paused for effect, though it was probably more from the heavy reality of the situation than for dramatic buildup. “The shadow caste is real, and the fact that they have stepped out into the light to attack your dig site, and gone to the trouble of tracking you to Bulgaria, tells me they are about to make a big move.” He kept the text from the president to himself, thinking discretion the better path.

“You’re making some pretty big leaps there, Sean,” Kevin said. He stared blankly in disbelief, locking eyes with Sean’s concerned gaze.

Sean acknowledged the comment with a nod. “I know. And I’m also aware of how insane it sounds. Just like it sounds insane that modern humans may have been here for hundreds of thousands of years when historians tell us it was less than fifty. We have discovered evidence of civilization at Göbekli Tepe that goes back nearly thirteen thousand years. We know that people existed in Australasia and South America over forty thousand years ago. Assumptions that have been handed down for generations are being