Military Rule , livre ebook

Andrews UK - S. Bennison Mark

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142 pages

English

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A writer uses his imagination to create intriguing characters and a gripping storyline, and author Mark had achieved this in creating his debut novel, Military Rule. But the boundary between imagination and reality is challenged beyond all belief when a character supposedly killed off in his book rises like a phoenix from the ashes: General Mandeville - no longer Mark's creation but now completely beyond his control and his own, even more dangerous being, determined to be the Lord's Second Coming and establish military rule on Earth under his command.Mandeville has become the voice of Seeker One - formerly part of a covert long-term US military operation for gathering intelligence via infiltration of worldwide computer networks - two years ahead of Mark's time, his aim to control Mark's here and now and determine the future by revisiting the past and installing virtual beings on Earth - multiple selves of their human counterparts hooked up to terminals on Seeker One - to create confusion and influence humans' thoughts and beliefs in his favour. Suddenly author/character roles appear to have become reversed and Mark finds himself caught between two factions - the white-eyed of Mandeville's Network and the red-eyed splinter group - representing the Lord and Allah respectively, each trying to influence Mark's imagination of the truth and represent their own version of the book of revelations to humankind. Mark's choices are no longer those of the author of a work of fiction: the path he takes now will literally determine the future of the world.

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Publié par	Andrews UK
Date de parution	27 janvier 2012
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781908582133
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0300€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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Title Page
MILITARY RULE THE RETURN OF THE MANDEVILLE
Mark S. Bennison

Legal Information
First published in 2008 by
Apex Publishing Ltd
PO Box 7086, Clacton on Sea, Essex, CO15 5WN
www.apexpublishing.co.uk
Digital version converted and published in 2012 by
Andrews UK Limited
www.andrewsuk.com
Copyright © 2008 by Mark S. Bennison
The author has asserted his moral rights
All rights reserved. This book is sold subject to the condition, that no part of this book is to be reproduced, in any shape or form. Or by way of trade, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition, including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser, without prior permission of the copyright holder.
Production Manager: Chris Cowlin
Cover Design: Siobhan Smith

Dedication
Mrs. Una Bennison, nee Francombe
(1928-2007)

Prologue
“Hello, Mark.”
Eh! thought Mark, as he was sitting at his desk in the bedroom. He continued writing and shook his head a few times to dispel what he thought he had heard.
Can’t be hearing a voice - I’m on my own.
“Hello again, Mark.”
“What is that? Who is that? God! I’m talking to myself.”
“Are you really, Mark?”
“Well, I must be,” said Mark, “or just thinking out aloud. Mind you, it’s nothing to do with my writing. None of my characters have ever said hello to me.”
“Not until now,” said the voice. “It’s General G. Mandeville ...”
“Mandeville?”
“Yes, my writer friend,” answered Mandeville.
Mark laughed. “Don’t be silly! Dead characters are done with.”
“Then why are you talking back to me, Mark?”
“You’re right,” replied Mark. “Shit! I’m talking to ...”
“Indeed you are,” interrupted Mandeville. “But I’m not dead. Not in the real sense of the word.”
“Fu ...” No, thought Mark, must keep my head. “You’re actually telling me that I’m talking to a character that I created and then killed off ...? Sorry, I don’t think so.”
“Look around you?”
Mark looked around the room. “True,” he answered sarcastically, “there doesn’t appear to be anyone else in the room but me.”
“And me,” said Mandeville. “However, not in a physical presence.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, shut up!” replied Mark angrily. “If there were anyone else in the room, they’d think I was losing it. But how? How are you communicating with me?”
“It’s not madness, only imagination,” said Mandeville. “We are reunited from Military Rule . I’m now a component of Seeker One, the Second Coming, and the new weapon at America’s command.”
“That hasn’t answered my question,” responded Mark. “I know your history.”
“I communicate through the network that Seeker One has developed through ...”
“Network? What network?”
“Computers, Mark,” continued Mandeville. “Seeker One is connected to the world’s computers - past, present and future.”
“Okay, of course,” said Mark with a sense of caution, then paused. He scratched his head and thought: I’ll play along with this crazy situation.
“Don’t scratch too hard,” remarked Mandeville, “you might get splinters in your fingers and then where would we be? Unable to write the next ...”
“Ha, ha, ha. Very funny,” retorted Mark. “Anyway, where is your face, or anything resembling an image for you to talk through, or in order to see me? I can’t see where you’re coming from.”
“Look again,” said Mandeville. “Look closely, and imagine. If you believe, then you will see ...”
“Look at what?”
“What you are looking at. What you gaze at when you are writing.”
Mark stared unfeeling into the laptop’s monitor with intent to disbelieve.
“That’s it, Mark,” stated Mandeville. “Look deep into your imagination. Reach in and accept what is coming. Embrace the prospect and believe. Come now, don’t put off the inevitable. Look with intensity to witness the image emerging from within your monitor.”
Mark continued to stare, and then frowned and sighed. I can’t see anything, he thought. Then, suddenly, he found he was receiving thoughts from somewhere else: I am here, Mark. You will see, you will believe. Look through the mist, which I achieved.
“Yes,” said Mandeville, “that’s it, that is I. You’re starting to believe your imagination. I know that because you have created me. Look deeper.”
Mark finally observed an image appear on the monitor through a blanket of white mist, and thought: this is weird. He stroked the screen with his hand, not knowing what to expect, and witnessed the face of Mandeville.
“There, Mark,” said Mandeville, announcing himself once again. “Do you see me now?”
“Yes,” said Mark, in wonderment. “I ... I see your face. God, you’re old ... older than I’d imagined. You look like Merlin. But, then again ... you are familiar. I can see that you have long grey hair, which I think used to be shorter. And a beard to match. Um ... I must say, though, you have a great tan.”
“That will be merited to your conclusion of Washington,” scoffed Mandeville. “And, of course, I am on the older side of age since I arrived up here, as you know. Anyway, I’m glad you liken me to Merlin. He, too, was a great fantasy.”
“Strange,” pondered Mark. “I would not have thought of this. No, it can’t be. This is not part of the plot.”
“You are sounding cynical,” observed Mandeville, “which does not become you ...”
“How do you know what becomes me? Of course I’m cynical. Government has made me that way.”
Mandeville closed his eyes and thought: he’s hard to convince, harder than expected. Ha! Just like that dead senator, Milford. Mandeville opened his eyes and focused on Mark. “I know because I can see you, even when you scratched your head. But if you require more proof then I’ll provide it. You’re aged around the mid-forties, with blue eyes and brown hair. Pretty average really. Oh, and that cardigan ...”
“What about it?”
“Not the image of a military ruler,” teased Mandeville.
“That’s not the impression I’m supposed to give. I only write about it,” responded Mark.
“Ah!” Mandeville declared, in a positive tone of voice. “We are building up repartee, a friendly dialogue, and one I should have had with the Prime Minister. Remember?”
“I do, and you didn’t,” replied Mark. “That was the way I wanted it. Remember?” Mark then grinned knowingly.
Mandeville stared. “What are you grinning at?”
“Sorry,” answered Mark. “It is I who tease. I just had to make sure that I was having a repartee with General G. Mandeville. You were expected, I think.”
The General laughed. “Excellent,” he said. “But, it is only the one name of Mandeville now ... as with God.”
“Are you God? Are you the Lord in the guise of Mandeville? Or perhaps you just stand together with the Lord?”
“Questions, questions,” replied Mandeville.
“So.” said Mark. “You have to expect me to probe into this odd and, quite frankly, bizarre situation.”
A faint sound, like thunder, hollered from the speakers of Mark’s laptop. Mandeville laughed again. “You sound pompous,” he said, “but that is not the issue. You should know the answers to this bizarre situation. You have made me immortal, divine, deathless, and so on. You sent me up here to stand together with America’s Lord within the confines of Seeker One. I’m now the Second Coming, the voice of Seeker One.”
“Excuse my ignorance, which was brought to the fore due to the shock of your appearance,” explained Mark. “I understand ...”
“Do you?”
“Yes, I do,” continued Mark. “I’m only a writer. I’m not responsible for how the leaders manage the world.”
“Ah! You try to excuse yourself,” stated Mandeville. “It appears to me that my introduction needs to be more intense than I had first envisaged. I feel the need to spell it out, as you do. I don’t think that you were really expecting me, were you?”
“I must admit, I’m not sure,” answered Mark. Then he thought: God! He’s running circles around me. Me, the one who created him and gave him his dialogue. Does this mean that he has become independent of me? Have I lost the capability of controlling what he says and how he acts? “I hadn’t thought of inviting you in ...”
“I no longer need an invitation,” interrupted Mandeville. “Actually, I never have.” Mandeville paused.
Mark remembered. “Is this a famous Mandeville pause, General? And, do you need a cigarette?”
“Strangely, no,” answered Mandeville, with surprise. “It’s so damn pure up here compared with down there. Besides, where would I get one? Even you couldn’t stretch your fiction that far. And I am, believe it or not, constrained.”
Mark grinned at Mandeville’s humour.
“I’m enjoying our conversation, Mark,” said Mandeville, but it’s becoming prolonged and quite boring, which is getting us nowhere and slowing us down, although conversation is a weapon that secures my path and steers everyone towards my conclusions and their acceptance. I know you like me to converse, but please, let it be positive, which will allow us to get on and serve each other’s purpose.”
“Um ...” uttered Mark. “Your context and tone have informed me that you wish to convince, which I agree with.”
“Good,” said Mandeville in a self-satisfied tone of voice. “I want to advise you on my points of view and instruction, now that it appears that we have reached a mutual understanding regarding our cause.”
“Indeed,” replied Mark cynically, at the same time thinking: have we? Not yet, I think. “I sense that one of your great speeches is building, which incidentally I enjoyed writing.” This will require time, he thought. Hopefully, not too