Tutankhamun Invocation (Poetry)
Hail
unto thee O Pharaoh,
Golden
mask found tomorrow,
With
lapis eyes forged anew
Watching
over the Egypt you once knew.
Who
could say what they found
In that
hole in the ground?
Was it
gold or godly treasure
Or
just a curse of thy measure?
Harken
unto olden times
When words
held such melodious rhymes,
The
birds, the doves, the Ibis one
Worshipped
in the temples done.
Hurried
the plunderers took
Of God
and Earth both were shook.
Gone
are they whose stolen life,
Cannot
yet find thy adoring wife.
How is
thy golden lion?
Is he
cursing over the fiends of Zion?
Those
slaves that built up Pi-Ramses
And
contained that famous, fabulous disease.
From
rock and grain of sand they bear
Of
ragged linen the commoners’ wear,
Do the
excavators dig in relentless Sun,
Of
conquests and cities thy spear hath won?
O
Tutankhamun of Egypt’s glory
Has
come amid the Pharaoh’s story,
For
hence has arrived the enemy of Ra
In
the form of a plunderer’s candelabra.
Lover
of Life they say in the tavern
From
Khafra’s lips to the smallest cavern.
No one
knows what lies the people say
If
in the end only they would pay.
Your
death is a mystery to them
Of
Brier and Budge and Zahi’s whim,
Only
you know the asp you allowed
To
bite through thy arm you shallowed.
Bob
Brier says you were murdered!
Of Ay
and Horemhab both conspired!
Does he
know the truth you buried
In
that tomb so quickly hurried?
From
ducks and lions of thy hunting
People
say you were bluffing,
Who can
say a meager Pharaoh
Can
conquer the jungles from that morrow?
Syrians,
Nubians, and Hittites all
Who
sang the praises from Pharaoh’s fall,
Did not
win the battles of immortal hearts that be
Nor
in the afterlife you promised me.
O Sing
the songs of the Neteru
From
Narmer and Thutmose and old Khufu,
Who is
the best king of late
Whom
even Ankhesenamon could never hate?
Eternal
life, golden couch, and offerings
Once
laden with such finer things,
Given
up on death’s steel floor
Never
again will you deplore.
From
Hatshepsut’s tomb we see
The
Plan of Gods gone with thee,
Afterlife
music channeled through air
Amid
the songs sung in there.
Mummy’s
Curse people say it was
That
slew Carnarvon with Ammot’s jaws,
Or was
it Fate in centuries told
Of
Pharaoh’s wrath nine hundred fold?
O
Pharaoh of the Golden Horus
Guardian
of the Blue Lotus,
Eternity
is yours to live
And
the vengeance that the ancients they give.
We
found but a small alabaster Chalice,
Not
unlike one Cleopatra’s Palace,
And if
the words spoke to your heart do shine
Mixed
in magic and good wine.
Then
you will conquer all your foes,
From
rebirth unto next life’s woes,
And
forever be the victory
Of
Tutankhamon’s magical weaponry.
One
more word must be said
So they
never again could be dead,
Your
fame, your words, your deeds do declare,
In
eternity and immortality, in one newborn’s tear.
That
you never died a mortal death,
For
evermore you can saith,
Olden
age once and reborn flower
Destroys
all corruptible power.
Golden
One of centuries’ dust
In one
iron dagger’s rust,
When
ceremony and pomp both do fail,
That
thy reign always prevail.
Excerpt from "The Lotus: Lord of the United States,"
Copyright 2013 Michael J. Costa, All rights reserved.
CHAPTER
7:
The radio
broadcasts revealed it was an Invasion or Test
from North Korea, but none of their leaders knew anything about it. This mystery haunted the local police and
mayor of Kauai for weeks.
Meanwhile
Dr. Singh patented his new Temporary Cure of Mental Illnesses, and presented it
to the Board of Psychiatry Research in Honolulu, Hawaii. As expected, they were pleased with the
results. Dr. Singh was given full
propriety rights over the discovery and he in turn gave 80% of the profits to
Luke and his family on Kauai.
Luke awoke
the next day a multi-billionaire, while in sweatpants down in the Hatch. He heard about it from his excited mother and
girlfriend via the intercom. His Banker
arrived momentarily. The IRS took their
share of the amount, miniscule though, for repaying his State Benefits from
when he was ill. The remainder was taxed,
though he retained a heavy majority of some $300 Billion Dollars, mostly in
cash and promises of future income from the ongoing medical research.
Luke was delighted. He immediately decided to buy some companies
for financial insurance, just in case. These
were mostly Military or Technology Companies, those that interested him. Then he bought a Mansion with attached Golf
Course in Kauai and one smaller Mansion on Maui, as a winter home. The Kauai spread was dazzling with waterfalls
and a mysterious Lotus flower pool along one side; about 3 square miles, with
privacy gate and personal road leading in.
The Maui estate held about 1.5 square miles on private land, including
some Taro fields, a small vineyard, and Macadamia
Nut orchards.
Luke converted the Kauai
Estate into his personal palace, with “special effects” worked within it. He collected suits of armor, rare paintings,
Persian carpets, Asian art, and other trappings of the elite. His swimming pools outside were shaped into
small lagoons, and wicker bridges were above them. The Mansion itself resembled an Art Deco
Castle of some forgotten age, with granite pillars, obelisks, and twin
life-size, seated statues of Ramses the Great flanking the entrance, allegedly
bought from Egypt for a million dollars each.
A solar station and monorail enveloped the walled enclosure.
A month of fixing and
converting his Estates passed by rather slowly and impatiently. Luke was into designing this one piece of
personal technology called a Z-Suit, when the phone rang. His Chief Technology Officer, Michael Davis,
informed him about an unused technology that needed investing.
“Of course, so send them
some funds. I will be in my grotto this
afternoon perfecting my latest creation,” I told him. “And Michael, do be careful in the
Repository.”
“Why?” he asked me.
“Oh! Must I do everything myself?” I asked with
impatience.
I ran down the hallway from
my den, and pressed an eye in a portrait statue of Socrates that stood on one
Ionic Pillar. The bookshelf slid open,
revealing a secret elevator. The
elevator was gold-plated Titanium with a square of buttons inside. I pressed the bottom button, the green one. A minute later I entered the Repository, a
converted garage. Michael stood against one
custom sports car, its winged door open ajar.
His face was slightly tanned and one could make out where his sunglasses
were once.
“Here is the XR-7, an all-terrain vehicle with
airborne equipment. Its bullet-proof
Titanium exterior hides SAM Missiles, a laser cutting scalpel, communications
disruptor, and sonic grenades that can be dropped like depth charges. Now you wouldn’t want to steal this baby, so
you press the switch near the steering console and an electric charge fires out
the handle. It also comes with Coffee
maker and Soda dispenser,” Michael said.
“Nice. I wanted you to check out my Z-suit’s
electricity absorption data… I believe it needs work,” I told him while showing
him my Tablet PC.
“I think
the data is correct with a minor glitch in the Parabolic assembly. There, all
done,” Michael said. “Was there anything
else you wanted?”
“What is
this contraption?” I asked about the covered object resembling a jet pack.
“Oh, that
is untested. No, you wouldn’t want
that…” he said.
I took off
the cover. The pack contained water jets
and air conversion technology, so I could fly into a region that is polluted in
Mustard gas or whatnot and still have the ability to use its gauntlet of
surprises.
I put the
jet pack on, despite Michael’s warnings.
I didn’t turn on its engine just yet.
The gauntlet was more interesting.
A colorful visage of blue, green, and yellow buttons covered the right
gauntlet while one red button was positioned on the left one.
“Oh be
careful with the red button… I haven’t tested it yet,” Michael cautioned. So I
pressed it anyway.
What
sounded like a blender engine started to churn behind me; the gauntlet
sputtered out this viscous liquid that hardened into a spider web once ejected
from the tip. I designed an Orb Weaver
projection within minutes.
“Now it’s
tested, and I approve!” I told him.
Michael smiled.
“So about
your Z-Suit, can I help?” he asked me.
“Sure. Here are the schematics,” I said while
handing him my flash drive. “Upload and
see what’s new.”
“Ahh… What
is this flowery symbol on the crest? I don’t think it was there last week,” he
asked me.
“Yes. That is my personal crest symbol, I call it: The
Lotus,” I said. “You know, from
my psychotic days.”
“I don’t
think you are psychotic, brilliant, but not crazy… Why would anyone sane want a
flower as symbol of one’s power?” he asked.
“No it’s
an acronym. It stands for Lord of the
United States. Do you remember
POTUS?” I said.
“Ahh, Mr.
President! Of course,” he smiled. “Still,
a flower of power.”
“The
Ancient Egyptians saw the Lotus as a symbol of rebirth. My rebirth is my sanity, thanks to this
root,” I showed him my necklace. It was
a piece of Incubus Root dipped in gold.
“Whatever
turns you on, Luke,” he said quietly.
CHAPTER
8:
Another
month went by, during which time I tested my equipment. On occasion that crime actually existed in
Hawaii, like in drunken bar room brawls, a local gang, or a series of
vandalism in the City, I was ready.
Hoodlums
may not be permanent members of society, but without them jails would be empty
and the State coffers likewise. Most are
stowaways from the Mainland or Japanese imports.
One
Japanese gang – The Star – owned part
of Kilauea, Kauai, but not in the
real estate sense. This gang sponsored
concealed weapons imported from Ninja schools overseas. Now concealed weapons were not illegal here
as in other States. Gangs didn’t have
permits, or they wouldn’t be gangs.
A group of
Stars took over an ABC store in
Eastern Kauai one clear night. They
demanded money, Kukui shells, and free Kona Coffee. The clerks, tied with Hemp rope and gagged,
huddled near the water fountain in the office.
One pressed a secret button given to them by the Heavenborne Foundation.
I was driving one of my
custom BMW cars when an alert bleeped on the GPS screen. The small green light appeared near the
Kealia highway. So I looked outside the
windows for a moment. Good, there were
no witnesses. My right hand pulled back
on the drink holder below the wheel, and opened up a tray of buttons. I switched on four colored buttons: two
yellow, one green and one red. The rear
engine exhaust rotated as wings appeared to unfold from side compartments, in
three panels each. Jet engines dropped
into place in the extended paneling. I
floored the gas pedals while converting the fuel to Hybrid-Solar-Hydrogen, and
then the car launched into the air like a mini-airplane.
Minutes fell from the clock
like pixels raining in a computer game. The
GPS monitor displayed what the hidden camera from the ABC Store allowed, with
sound.
The Natives looked
restless. Gang members threatened one
clerk with a withdrawn Katana sword, another with a collection of Shuriken
Stars on her belt. The third gangster
waited by the door for Police to intervene.
The Police did not answer this
time.
The ground started shaking.
“It’s an Earthquake!”
shouted a gang woman. “Cover your
heads.”
A shadowy figure blurred the
ceiling lights for a moment. The gang
woman investigated by climbing the back stairs, then she saw me drop down and
screamed a moment.
“Hello!” I said. “Now you surrender,” I told her while
removing my mask.
She looked into my hypnotic
eyes, studying my perspiring facial features.
Then she closed her eyes, opening them again with a sly grin. Her right hand formed a sharp claw.
“No freak, you first,” she
said as her hand clawed my face, grasping it tightly. Her fingers buried themselves into my flesh,
tearing my skin, and forcing their nails nearest my eyes… My other hand pressed
a button on my gauntlet, the red one. Then I lowered it as if surrendering, then
she released her grip.
I shot a glob of webbing
into her bewildered eyes. “No, Ladies
first, I insist.” Then I kicked her backwards onto a set of
apple crates.
The gang attacked me, swords
drawn. My fingers fumbling on the
controls; they were new to me, okay? One yellow button pressed, and a length of
cord shot from the ejected holes above the gauntlet. This wrapped itself about a gang member’s
legs. Another blue button interfered with
the sprinkler system in the store, causing a small internal rain or distraction. A gangster hit me with the hilt of a very
sharp Katana, so I swung the gauntlet against his bullet-proof vest. A green button hit the hilt. Then a noise or an alarm echoed in the
building, and everyone clutched their ears; I pulled my mask back on, its sound
proof covers over my head. The woman
stood up behind me and kicked the button with her left foot. I turned.
“So whoever you are, you
fight like a girl,” she told me. “I am
not a girl. I am a woman!”
So I slapped her. She recovered and kicked me in the head three
times, and then I spun backwards on my heels to the floor while aiming the
gauntlet. She stood there triumphantly
and laughed it off. As she withdrew a
small bladed weapon from her belt, I pressed a yellow button on the lower side,
the Magnetic Field button.
Her
grimace was soured as all her metallic toys flung to the gauntlet, then
reversed their direction. She saw this
and dove to the floor where I sent globs of webbing onto her hands, ankles, and
abdomen, trapping her in it.
Her gang
friends escaped on foot, and met the police with upraised hands and cool
gestures.
To avoid
contact with the authorities, I fled back to my car above, leaving a small
Lotus flower as my call sign, on a table once the clerks were liberated.
The
evening news displayed my courage and self-sacrifice under the “Breaking News”
section.
“This just
in – a masked Man entered an ABC Store tonight after members of the notorious Star Gang had the place occupied for the
last three hours. The Man, unidentified
except for a flair for the dramatic, attacked the gang, freed the trapped
clerks, and then left the scene. A small
water lily was found in the store storage area, but was otherwise clean,” said
the news person.
CHAPTER
9:
My
girlfriend was not amused by this.
“Just what
the Hell do you think you were
doing?” she demanded after seeing a newspaper’s front page photograph of my
Z-Suit aside my actual armor lying in a heap on the table. “Do you realize what you have done? I freed
you from a Mental Hospital and you go off and become some sort of Super Hero! What
about me? What about us?”
“Well, you
can be my side-kick. I’ll have Davis
build you a Z-Suit in the morning,” I said to her.
She
started pacing on the gold and Lapis tile floor. Her hands tightened into fists, then relaxed
one moment. “I don’t care if you are a
billionaire… Or if you are sane, I just want you to tell me. I love
you. Stop trying to impress me,” she
said at length.
“Davis?
Can you build me a second suit? Yeah something feminine,” I said as she slammed
my receiver to the plate metal on the telephone, ending the call. She looked at me and smirked, then walked
into the next room.
I followed
her there. She was opening a filing
cabinet, looking for something important.
Pushing folders of junk bonds, real estate papers, photos of real
estate, and corporation documents aside she found one piece of paper that
perked her interest.
“What is this supposed to mean?” She asked me.
It was a
receipt for human cloning. Someone
forgot to trash it. It had her DNA.
“I was
going to tell you after I returned from Japan…,” I started. She walked on ahead into the next room,
disgusted. Her blond hair was loosely
flowing in the summer wind.
“If you
didn’t bother to tell me, you would rather clone
me than have sex with me, I would
have agreed to marry you,” she said.
“We still
can,” I interrupted. “Where would you
like our honeymoon? Ni’ihau?”
She stood
there, blinking. Then she shook her
head. “You just don’t get it, do you?”
she said. “Money, power, it corrupts. You were fine before the cure, before you were sane. Now you are rich because someone found a cure to your insanity!
Only that’s just it – you are still
insane, but with power.”
“Would you
like that one in blue or gold materials?” asked Davis on the intercom.
“Look, I
do still love you. I really do. But now I have an ability to help people. I can
help people; I never realized I could do something for society… Not wither away
in a Psych ward, with Napoleon or Sinatra,” I replied.
“You do
that, and see where it leads. Don’t
expect me to come running to save you at the bottom of some ocean, in my Aqua
Suit. Or I’ll be damned if one day you return in my arms as a cadaver
waiting to donate your kidney. Please, don’t do this,” She said.
I nodded
in agreement and she kissed me on the face.
“One blue Aqua
suit, coming up!” said Davis on the intercom. The intercom was set to Chat Room status.
The LOTUS: Lord of the United States
A Phrenland Novel
© Copyright 2013 Michael J. Costa, All rights reserved.
No part of this work may be reproduced, stored
in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic,
mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written
permission of the Author or Copyright owner.
This book
is a work of Fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents, are products of
the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual
events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
This
book was printed in the U.S.A.
nice. will defintely read a book so.
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