Compartmentalization (Part 19)

Part 19: OL16L66

I read somewhere if a person has strong feelings for someone before that person loses their ability to remember, those strong feelings sometimes remain even if the memory doesn’t. It implies that human relationships, or any strong relationship, really, rely on more than just memory. Maybe it is just a groove in the brain that remains, or maybe if someone acts as if they knew you well, you can’t help but agree, because why not? It isn’t like you know any better. I am assuming that is why, while I am still cautious around Jordan, I feel much more at ease than I was expecting. Drinking tea in his gaudy gold and black classroom of an office makes me feel good. It is almost nostalgic.

I see Jordan looking out a window to the city while sitting behind his college professor-esque desk, sipping his tea,“Do you know why Nouveau Porc looks so empty most of the time?” Jordan says.
“No, why?” I respond earnestly.
“It’s because this city is being kept alive by the UWG. Most of these buildings are empty, waiting for some sort of economic miracle to fill them again, all the while the UWG tries to pump them full of money to keep them standing. It’s pretty sad.”
“Why do that?”
“Because they need to set a facade of hope. I don’t know who they are trying to fool though, the people, or themselves.”
“You built your club in a UWG financed city?”
“Isn’t it perfect?” he looks at me with genuine glee, “I think they let me because they figured that it is better if I was close by than if I hid away somewhere. That is why this plan getting so far is so amazing! It is happening all under their noses!”
“That’s right, the plan. Now what is the plan exactly? Operation Alexandria, I believe I called it?”

I have a gist what is going on here. I know I have to bring Jordan to OL17L66. I know the ‘O’ stands for ’Obelisk,’ but what is L17L66? I needed to find out what Jordan knows.

“Are you familiar with the famous library of Alexandria?” Jordan asks while lacing his fingers, which reminds me of Maxwell.
“Sure,” I answer sort of dumbly. I wasn’t sure if I needed to elaborate further to make sure I understood his point.”
“Well, your friend and mine,” Jordan gives me a knowing look, “Tarren McNabb built a secret facility that supposedly contains evidence of all UWG’s dirty laundry that he has been using as a type of insurance policy. That man is notorious for his paranoia, and it will be the UWG’s downfall that they never took care of him sooner.”

Tarren McNabb. Of course, the man I worked for. The Obelisk is a library of secrets. Interesting. It all begins to flood together.

“What are we hoping to find down there?” I ask.
“Proof. Proof of the horrible things they did to the world. Once we find that, we can begin to overthrow this this dictatorship, this cowardly, moronic illuminati, and we can finally make it so our loved ones didn’t die in vain.”

‘Illuminati,’ huh? I am beginning to remember what started that wedge in our friendship; that idealism of his. Jordan was always so sure of things. A little too sure. I remember loving it. Jordan had the drive and direction I craved. I followed it blindly because I wanted to believe. I wanted to believe the UWG was to blame for all our problems and that we were making a difference. Things, I now remember, aren’t that simple.

“You know, it feels like yesterday that you and I were on the field, subduing would-be assassins,” Jordan says as he seems to be vividly remembering.
“I don’t quite have a lot of those memories back, but I do remembering having fun,” I say, as I struggle to remember a single thing about back then.
“It was fun, wasn't it? Oh, how naive we were. We were so full of fire back then, stuck in that mine-filled trailer park. I still remember having late night talks about how we could make the world a better place. I suppose there wasn’t really much else to do in that desert.”
“And then Maxwell took it?”
“He bought it after we went our separate ways. I never thought he would still own it after we got back together. I thought it would take years for you to get into any type of position that would give you access to the type of info we needed.”
“You can thank McNabb for that.”
“Really!”
“The UWG gave me intelligence clearance so I could figure out what he was up to.”
“Oh yes! How delicious! What a lucky coincidence that he wanted you so badly.”
“It wasn’t a coincidence.”
“Oh, let me guess, he wanted to keep an eye on you because of the MCN thing?”
“Nope.”
“What was it then?”
“He wanted to keep close tabs on me so he could make sure he could keep me away from his daughter.”
“Ha! That is rich. What a man. So then they gave you all the clearance to research McNabb?”
“All of it. McNabb wanted to keep me close, but he never gave me anything to do. I pretty much had all the free time in the world to just do research day and night.”

I remembered those days. They were filled with boredom of looking through dense, hard-to-read documents, one after another, but those times, which I found something that would lead me to what I was looking for, I treasured. I remember joyously telling Jordan every detail in encoded emails. It was a fun times, until I got too deep.

When I looked further and further into what they knew about Jordan, when I looked at what he did to find out what he knows now, how he found out about the UWG and the Smokers, that is when I stopped telling him everything. That is when the wedge was placed. That is when this was all flipped.

I don’t remember exactly what he did, but I remembering seeing it. I remember the horror. In retrospect, maybe it wasn’t that bad in context. I didn’t know those people. Maybe they were worse than Jordan was. It is just something you don’t want to think your friends are capable of.

But he did it for what he thought was the greater good. He doesn’t feel guilty about it because he did the equation in his head that what he was doing was much better than what they were doing to the world. What hateful math.

I don’t remember how many people, but it didn’t matter. I was never good at ‘math’ the way he was. I knew if he was capable of that, then I wasn’t safe. No one I loved was safe. The worst part was the more research I did, the less I believed in his ‘truth.’ I didn’t even need proof that he was wrong, all I needed was that little seed of doubt, and I knew I was in trouble. I knew I could keep it a secret and protect myself, but what about others?

Oh Amelia, a part of me wants to blame you, but I know it was all my fault. Why did I call you that last time? Did I do it so your father could track us and force Jordan and I to the desert? I wish. I wish I had a reason other than I wanted to hear your voice.

You are nothing to me now, a pop song with no context, but you were so beautiful to me back then. You were all my hopes, dreams, and sadness all in one. Well, you really weren’t, but you were the muse that allowed me to personify and identify all those things in my life.

“Let us see the fruits of your research then!” Jordan says to me, oblivious of my feelings.
“Oh right. OL17L66. That is where it is,” I answer in a way that disguises that I don’t know what that really means.
“OL17L66?”
“The ‘O’ stands for ‘Obelisk’ I know that.”
“What is L17L66?”
“Not sure. I didn’t really leave any clues for myself either.’
“Well let’s see,” Jordan brings out a folded up map from inside the desk and unfolds it to cover the entire surface of the desk, “Rumor is that McNabb built it on top of one of the islands that sank in The Catastrophe. I doubt it was anywhere too outside what used to be North America because that is where he was based.”

I looked at the map and was oddly horrified. The map was labeled in such a way that it had the all the landmasses that used to exist, and then a light blue layer over everything that was now underwater. Or at least I assumed that is where it is now. There are also grey parts here and there which, when I look at the key, seem to indicate man-made land masses. The map could almost stand on itself as a commentary on what we have lost. Jordan, on the other hand, was used to this. He just looked at the map intently. I guess that is what made it so odd to me; it wasn’t everything we had lost, it is how used we had become to losing everything.

Though, I guess I am not one to talk.

“L? Are there any islands that start with ‘L’?” Jordan asks.
“Maybe a small one near Hawaii?” I answer back.
“Wait,” Jordan looks on the sides of the map, “Hey, this map has longitude and latitude listed on it!”
“Yeah, so?”
“What if L17L66 are coordinates? Like around...here!”

Jordan points to the map and it is around what used to be Puerto Rico. A light bulb lights up in my head.

“That’s it!” I say excitedly, “It’s there!”
“Perfect!” Jordan says even more excitedly, “We shall leave as soon as possible! I will prep the jet. You get Maxwell to come along.”
“Why are we bringing him?”
“We need a witness! We need somebody who still believes in the UWG to come with us and he’ll be on our side once we show him what’s down there. We need him so we can get our stuff back!” Jordan winks at me, “He is just next door. Here is the key. Come upstairs as soon as you can!”

Jordan hands me a card key and runs out of the room. I walk out, and he makes sure to point out which door the key goes to before running upstairs. I had no idea Maxwell was so close. I am feel more ambivalent than I think I should be. Jordan runs up the staircase, and I am left in the hallway, alone. “Well, it is now or never,” I say to myself. It felt like this is the last steps I will take. I suddenly become very conscious of my breathing. He is so excited. He thinks that all his careful planning is finally bearing fruit.

I wonder if I was any better than he was. What authority I had to say whether or not he can change the world. I could have very well been worse than he was. But it doesn’t matter. I am following the plan. I am not even sure if I am really stopping him. This plan could just be manipulating myself to help him. But why the animosity? Why this sense of dread? Why do I feel like I am never going to see him again? Why would I apologize to myself? It could all be a joke, a ruse to trick myself, but I don’t think so. Why forget everything if I was just helping him attain his goals? No, this won’t end well. I don’t think this is going to end well for either of us.

I open the door, and I am greeted by darkness. I feel the wall closest to me and find a light switch. The room illuminates and it looks like Jordan wasn't lying. The room looks like an incredibly roomy and comfortable hotel room, complete with a giant bed, a full dinner table, a kitchen that looks filled with food, a large, flat TV, and pretty much anything anyone might want in a hotel room. It made the other hotel that I saw with the rest of the House of Maxwell crew seem plain in comparison. I heard a muffled voice from under the covers of the bed.

“Do you know what time it is?” I assume is what the voice said.
“We are going,” I say solemnly.
“What?” the covers flip over and I see Maxwell in red, silk pajamas.
“We are going now.”
“Where are we going?”
“To a secret facility that supposedly has all the secrets of the UWG.”
“What? Why?”
“To,” I begin to falter, as I realize that I am just repeating what Jordan said, “Look,” I say suddenly, “All you have to do is come with me, and this will be soon over.”
“Well, I certainly hope so. Do you mind if I get dressed?”
“Uh, no. No, I don’t. But, hurry. okay?”
“I’ll try my best, seeing as you just woke me up and I am still a little out of it.”

I turn and face the door as Maxwell begins to change.

“So you and Jordan are finally back together then?” Maxwell remarks casually.
“It seems so,” I answer matter of factly.
“I certainly hope you know what you are doing. You do remember why you are doing this right?”
“Yes,” I lie a bit, “I know exactly what I am doing.”
“I am not going to end up dead, am I?”
“Not if I can help it,” I answer honestly.
“Do you have any regrets, Josh?”
“Not that I can remember right now,” I wasn’t sure where this was going.
“I find that having a regret or two helps me to remember that I have to come back. You might want to do the same on trips like these,” Maxwell takes a few minutes to get what I assume is the rest of his clothes, and then takes a brown bottle and a glass, “You don’t mind if I take this, do you?”
I look and see it is some alcohol of some kind, “Sure. I don’t mind, and I don’t think Jordan will either.”
“You know, I normally don’t drink, but there is something about you and J. that makes me not want to be sober,” Jordan says and pours himself a glass and drinks it, “Though, drinking this early in the morning can’t be healthy. Anyway, how do I look?”

Maxwell is wearing black pants, a long red sleeve shirt, and a black vest. He looks like an older version of Jordan. Maxwell looked as if Jordan had failed, and the stress of life began to show on his face. He didn’t look old, he looked older than his age. The creases in his face betrayed any sort of similarity. All the hardship, I suppose, made Maxwell impossible to truly imitate the energy that Jordan has. That being said. He looks good.

“You look good,” I say, “but you are missing the gloves.”
“I know!” he says, “J. didn’t give me any.”
“Alright, we need to go,” I said as we walked out the room and towards the staircase to the roof.

“A secret facility, huh?” Maxwell mentions as we are walking up the stairwell.
“Yeah, it was actually never...”

Finished.

It was never finished.

“What was that? You cut yourself off there,” Maxwell says.
“Maxwell,” I say seriously, “I need you you to listen to me very carefully.”
“O-okay,” Maxwell says while being a bit taken back by my sudden shift.
“If I say to do anything, you do it immediately, okay? No matter how weird, or sudden, if I tell you to do something, you do it.”
“Alright, if you say so.”

Maxwell, shaken, continues to walk up the stairway as I stop to think.