Warren (15)

The Dinner Bell

Heinlein’s Internet search about “Lizard People” legends throughout history yielded some fascinating information.  Apparently, it was a “Silurian” thing.  The Silurian period is a geological epoch 443 million years ago, part of Earth’s Paleozoic Era.

In a 2018 paper entitled “The Silurian Hypothesis” two academics from the University of Rochester and NASA Goddard Institue for Space Studies asked the question: would it be possible to detect an ancient, heretofore unknown industrial society in Earth’s geological record.  They noted three scientific facts:  1) Complex life has flourished on our planet for 400 million years; 2) Earth has been around for about 4.5 billion years, and 3) Humans have only been around for 315,000 years.

They asked:  might other intelligent species have evolved, industrialized and vanished in all that time the Earth existed without humans on it?  What if – by looking for geological clues, artifacts, tools, synthetic materials and isotopes – we could find evidence that humans weren’t the first intelligent species on this planet?

What was the prime candidate for this mystery predecessor species that evolved and then disappeared?  Troodon Formosis.  A dinosaur with a large encephalization quotient – a large brain-to-body percentage.  This yardstick is a rough measure of intelligence in living things.  Troodontids lived about 100 million years ago.  Add in the scientific fact:  everything evolves over time. 

Do the math.

Troodontids were around 100 million years ago. Humans have been around for 300,000.  Conclusion:  that’s a drop in the bucket on a timeline.  Troodontids were large bird-like dinosaurs that may have been warm blooded – but retained reptilian metabolism, brains and characteristics.  They stood on their legs and their “wings” seemed to be vestigial – ie. useless – and maybe evolving into arms?  They ate flesh and had teeth.  Big teeth.  And claws – real big claws.

Could Troodontids over a period of 100 million years have evolved into a highly intelligent species and then disappeared?  Maybe at the time of Noah’s “Great Flood”?  Could some of them have survived throughout the Centuries in caves and become the architype for “Devils” and “Demons”?  Became the model image for gargoyles carved on Cathedrals throughout Europe?  Every human society has legends of “Lizardmen” emerging from the Earth and eating men, women and children.  Subterranean monsters terrorizing relatively stupid and fragile humans just starting their evolutionary journey would find mankind to be easy Pickins’.  A dumb food source.  Like livestock.

Would these extremely intelligent, freakish Troodontids – after 300 million years of evolution – pose an existential danger to humans?  The answer is obvious.

Heinlein was intrigued.

If a limited number of Troodontids escaped human hunters by hiding in deep caves, could their evolution have been stunted, even reversed, by years of inbreeding in a lightless environment with limited food resources and bad nutrition? Isolated environments permeated with radioactivity and prehistoric bacteriomes and viruses?  Would their high intelligence have become degraded, warped and psychotic – ultimately driven insane by a pure compulsion to kill and feed?  Would they have degenerated into what the Leni Lenape Indians called the Yakwahe?

 

Heinlein watched out their front windows as the sun set over Lambertville.  It was going to be a long night.

In the first-floor dining room of Swede’s Lambertville house, a high-end Dell XPS laptop streamed flickering, evanescent shadows on its screen.  Next to it on an otherwise empty walnut table was a red-domed light.  This was Heinlein and Swede’s early warning system, wired into Shinski’s basement Killzone.  Their state-of-the-art, laser-aimed hunting equipment was in place, awaiting the Yakwahe to emerge and eat his thrashing and furiously agitated food.

The Dell laptop was showing AI-integrated night-vision and Infra-red monitor images from Shinski’s house – grainy video feed of Jakob Anekschteyn strapped into a heavy chair in a dark, dank and filthy cellar.  He was bound, gagged and writhing desperately to tear himself loose – grunting and heaving for breath as he threw himself back and forth in seizure-like spasms.  These violent antics had torn open his shoulder bullet-hole stitches, and now he was bleeding like a stuck pig.

He should have just shouted, “Come and Get It! 

Swede stared at the monitor, her face a mask of stone, and whispered, “That’s right…struggle you murderer…. Scream… Justice is coming…”

She caught Heinlein’s surprised face staring at her.

“I was a volunteer trauma surgeon at a hospital in Palestine – in Gaza – for a year.  You have no idea what I saw…..”

Heinlein let it go.

 

Night was closing in on Warren, NJ.  Go time.

This was a typical BratvaVarang operation.  Efficient, seamless and lethal.  Their Unit commander – Josef – would trigger the kill.  The years he served in some of the world’s hottest conflict zones – Afghanistan, Nigeria, Bosnia, Chechnya – made him uniquely qualified to intuit the exact moment when their advantage was optimal.

Hours passed.  Swede and Heinlein drank coffee and stared at the red dome light.  The wait was excruciating.  The house was as silent as a grave.  A grandfather clock shattered their stillness every hour on the hour counting down the night, ratting nerves already on edge from too much caffeine. One o’clock…two o’clock…three o’clock.

A whiff of despair began to creep into Heinlein around 3:15AM.

“What’s keeping him…isn’t he hungry tonight?’  Heinlein mumbled.

Swede just kept focus, her face immobile.

Then it happened.

At 3:23AM the Red Light went off – rhythmically pulsating – indicating movement around the hole.  Now they bit their lips and waited for a continuous “Hot Red”, the signal Josef  had a “kill triangulation” and clear shot.  This was showtime, folks.

The screen’s AI-enhanced, integrated night-vision and infra-red feeds barely showed any heat signature at all from the hulking, shadowy – and obviously cold-blooded – thing that was creeping across the floor.  It was apparently slithering on its belly.  Suddenly it reared up and pounced on Anekschteyn clamping down what looked like alligator jaws on the Mossad agent’s entire face.

The audio feed erupted with ungodly sounds – muffled, stifled screams and expulsions of blood, the guy’s body contorting and warping itself while still strapped in the chair.

It was hard to actually see the Yakwahe.  The infra-red images didn’t give crisp resolution – but a few details were clear.  Its eyes were red like lasers.  It’s hide was black and greasy, covered viscous slime.  It looked to be scaled like a lizard and was clutching its prey’s head like a juicy apple with huge, curved claws that transitioned into knife-like talons.  It appeared to be sucking the eyes and brains out of the head into its enormous maw, locked on to it with a vise-like death grip.

It was almost standing.

Then the Red Light stopped pulsing – and flashed solid.

Swede and Heinlein almost fell out of their chairs as their ears were impacted by deafening explosions from the pinion launchers and flash-bang grenades.  The attack zone became bathed in white, phosphorus light.

The Yakwahe was thoroughly skewered – one pinion shaft pierced through its thoracic area and expanded outside its back, a second pinion shaft blew through its stomach and expanded out through its spine and the last pinion  drilled through its pelvis, expanding outside its groin area.  The Demon was hopelessly anchored by grappling hooks.  As the steel cables were automatically winched-in and pulled tight, the creature tensed and screamed.  It released what was left of Anekschteyn’s head.  Most of the Mossad agent’s face, skull and brains were gone and his body was limp.  The Yakwahe  had eaten him like a ripe Georgia peach.

In the light, the Yakwahe looked even more hideous.  It was at least seven feet tall and covered with overlapping feathered scales.  Its appendages rippled with muscles, and it had a tail.  It was every medieval horror story’s vision of Satan… an apparition of pure evil.  The Biblical Lucifer come to Earth.

Within minutes, figures in full Hazmat suits were moving in.  They carefully collected their dead Yakwahe “Prize” after shooting it in the head – just in case.  What was left of Anekschteyn was unceremoniously dumped down the creature’s subterranean lair.  It was as good a grave as any – and probably a better one than he deserved.  “Squibs” – tiny surveillance drones – were released deep inside the Demon’s portal passageway to explore it remotely later.  Semtex and C4 demolition charges obliterated the house and its foundation into smithereens ten minutes later.

Swede reached over to the laptop and turned it off.  Their chore was done.

“Let’s have some scotch and go to bed”, she said.

 


 

They slept late that morning.  The last few days had been exhausting.  Around three o’clock in the afternoon Heinlein’s iPhone newsfeed signaled an interesting item.  “Gas Explosion Rocks Warren, NJ….”

He turned on his NJNews cable channel and only had to watch a few minutes before the story was on screen.  Newsperson Sila Alvarez was reporting from the scene:

“….The early morning hours were shattered today when a gas explosion destroyed a run-down house on Mount Horeb Road here in Warren.  The residence was recently the scene of a grisly murder involving its aged owner, Mrs. Adele Shinski.

That crime is still apparently under investigation after the primary suspect was released by Warren PD for lack of evidence tying him to the crime.  That same person of interest is, however, being held for the murder of his own aged mother in Green Brook Township.

Warren Police Department has advised that Public Service Gas & Electric has been alerted and are securing gas service to the surrounding neighborhood homes.  There is no danger.”

Swede watched news segment and smiled.  “All’s well that ends well…”  

By the time they got back from dinner Swede got the text she’d been waiting for: “The package has been delivered”.

They both breathed a sigh of relief.  They celebrated for a few more hours and then Swede took one of her impromptu evening strolls through Lambertville.  Heinlein knew this walk wasn’t about exercise.  It was about the future.  Her future.  The BratvaRus had decided their plan – and Swede was getting the memo.  When she returned, she was quiet.  Pensive.  Not necessarily perturbed – just a bit edgy.  Again, Heinlein thought it best to give her space.  An hour later, however, she pulled up a chair next to him and delivered the news.

“I’m going to Serbia for a while.   I’ll be back as soon as I can.  In the meantime, stay here, in Lambertville.  Take care of things for me.  And I want to tell you something.  I was with only one other man in my life – the IDF forces soldier who raped me at that hospital in Palestine…”

Heinlein pulled her close and hugged her.  He surmised she’d been hiding some kind of secret like that.  A deep, personal and senseless shame.  His gut told him to change the subject.

“I guess I’ll go back to writing parking tickets in Warren…”

Just wait a minute, there Heinie!!  You’ve just helped my organization bag the greatest biological research subject in the history of mankind…what if I made you an offer?

Heinlein looked into her eyes.  She was serious.

“Executive Vice President of Worldwide Security Operations at NordPharma.  Work out of the Princeton, New Jersey US Headquarters where my father is.  Take a company Gulfstream once in a while to meet me at my place in Zurich.  We can eat good food, drink and have sex for days on end….and maybe you can knock me up.  I like your genes.”

Heinlein almost fell over.  Now it was his turn to make an offer.

“Let me ask you a question”, he said.  Does a Shieldmaiden of Freyja get to choose her own Husband?”

Swede laughed out loud.  She looked happier than he’d ever seen her.

Yes!  It’s a Shieldmaiden’s right to choose her Husband.  But in my case – only if it’s you and there are two ceremonies – one at the Russian Orthodox Cathedral in St. Petersburg, Russia and another one at the Viking Gamla Uppsala in Uppsala, Sweden……what say you?”

“You’ve got a deal.”, Heinlein said.

THE END

 


 

*ALRIGHTY THEN!   READERS!   NOW IT’S YOUR TURN!*

Do you want to hear more stories about the brave Viking-Slavic BratvaRus and their indominable Varangian Guard?  Let me know – drop me a line at:     vlchek1@gmail.com

I read all my emails and appreciate all comments and suggestions… within reason, of course. 

  


Copyright, 2025 Jon Croft and his Assignees

www.bogironpatriot.com

vlchek1@gmail.com