Prophet Margin: The Sentinel Saga, #3

By Daryl J. Koerth

Lies, manipulation, money, and religious fervor have never been a good mix. Having narrowly avoided a nuclear war, the world turns to religion as they collect themselves. Unfortunately, the religious figures that stand out the most are "prophets" whose messages are whipping the world back into a frenzy.

This is not a coincidence.

Their collective rhetoric is very intentional, and very dangerous. The Sentinel must untangle the mystery of these false prophets and their endgame before war erupts.

Is it really about global war, though?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rockin' K Publishers LLC
• Release date: Mar 9, 2023
• ISBN: 9781959282143

Book preview

Prologue

This all started with my death.

During my very short time among the deceased, I was offered an incredible opportunity by a grumpy old man. I accepted the opportunity, and became the Sentinel: the guardian of the truth about human history and spirituality. Talk about heavy. I will carry that awesome, astounding burden for the rest of my life. Gladly. Proudly. To the best of my ability.

I started by identifying and foiling the efforts of the liars: five very self-absorbed and malicious individuals who try to mislead the public for very bad reasons. Then I followed the trail of the interferer, a man who tried to instigate a nuclear war by making deliberate, calculated changes to history. Now I’m trying to find the propheteers: an unknown number of individuals who are trying to use false prophecy and religious lies to rekindle the possibility of nuclear conflict.

It’s my job as the Sentinel to observe and record the truth...but it’s also my job to protect that truth, and all those it affects. I end up getting in a lot of fights while trying to catch these rascals in the past and mark them, so I can identify them in the present. I travel around the world and through time using my faith to do this. The reality is much less cool than this sounds. I get beaten up, stabbed, and shot. A lot.

A darkness has been growing in me, a rage that has gotten difficult to control. Apparently, dealing with humanity’s evil has aggravated a rage that has lived inside of me for most of my life. It’s scary, and it’s rough, and it’s dangerous. I won’t deny that I’m a human being, with many flaws. I work hard to manage that part of myself. Happily.

This struggle to observe, preserve, and record the truth has turned into a small, vicious war. A war with very high stakes. As I’m not a murderer, and I work for God, my ability to fight is limited. I never kill an opponent or adversary. I have changed my fighting style – with the help of one of those angels – to a mostly defensive and thoroughly non-lethal style. I write a blog to keep people apprised of the truth, and it has become popular with the faithful around the globe.

I also pray a lot. Multiple times a day. Every day.

It’s not all bad, though. I’m alive. I live in Eden, outside the Garden, in an awesome log cabin with my younger brother Marvin and the grumpy old man, whom I named Sam. I receive periodic training from angels, and they’ve taught my brother and me some awesome things. I sometimes get clear, immediate answers to my prayers. I have a pet wolf pup that I love very dearly. I have the most awesome friends you could imagine. They’re part of my little team.

I lean on my team and my faith to carry me through when things are hard.

Things are hard now. We are at war, and I’m a former soldier. I will fight to protect those I love, and even those I don’t know or like. Human life is sacred. I will defend it.

Go time.

Chapter 1

Outside Salem Village, Mass.

August 21, 1693

Running at top speed through the woods in the fading light of late evening is eerie and dangerous.

The trees take on a darker color, like shadows. The ground becomes a treacherous mystery covered in fallen branches, brambles, roots, and pits. Do you know how easy it is to break yourself running through a dark environment like that?

Too easy.

It was time to put this chase to an end.

Kash? I grunted out in a harsh half-whisper. Marvin was running beside me.

No shot, returned Marvin. Like me, Marvin had his eyes fixed forward, ducking and weaving, jumping, and trying not to lose our quarry in the falling dark.

Fists only, I said, dodging a low branch. We jump ahead of them in three...two...one….

We vanished, and re-appeared just ahead of the two girls, facing them. Startled, they stopped immediately. The one in front of Marvin fell backwards. The one in front of me gasped and pulled a dagger. I grinned.

She stabbed at me overhand, her arm whipping in a wide arc toward my chest. I grabbed the hand holding the dagger, punched her wrist with my other hand so she would release the weapon, and swept her feet out from under her, landing her on her back. I threw the dagger into the dirt beside her, where it stuck. Enough! I barked.

Nobody moved or spoke.

Where is the real Elizabeth Hubbard? I asked in a harsh, menacing tone. I wanted to sound scary. I wanted the girls to know up front that the game was over, they had lost, and I would brook no further slight.

In a grave, she gasped out, still short of breath and cradling her wrist.

The other girl nodded, implying the same was true of the girl she was impersonating.

You both murdered the girls you’re impersonating, I said, sickened. Why?

The younger girl, in front of Marvin, answered, It was the best way to instigate and participate in the trials.

Why did you do that? I asked.

You figure it out, said the Elizabeth Hubbard impostor. You’re the Sentinel. Both girls vanished. I looked at Marvin, and we vanished, too.

image-placeholder

The cabin was quiet.

Nobody was in evidence except for Marvin and I, until Ryan came walking out of the hallway, his claws barely tapping on the wooden floor. The big wolf looked at us for a long moment, then tilted his head and gave us a goofy smile, his large pink tongue lolling out. He was absolutely majestic...until he was a dorky floof.

Come here, buddy, I beckoned him. I took a knee as he trotted over, and hugged him while he whimpered and tried to lick me. His kisses were welcome, but a little gross. It made me chuckle. I stood up, and Ryan went to lean against Marvin’s legs and get pets.

After petting Ryan for a moment, Marvin said, I’m ready whenever you are, bro. I need answers. He was talking about everything I hadn’t said the past three months.

I had done a lot of research. I had thought a lot about how false prophets could drive the country back toward nuclear war...and make it more likely to engage. I had looked through history for likely events where I might find them. Now that I had found a pair of them, I felt like I at least had a solid theory. It was time to bring Marvin and the others into the loop. I nodded to him. You want a glass of water? I asked, walking to the kitchen.

Sure, he responded, taking a seat on the couch.

I came back with two glasses of water, handed him one, and sat in my chair. Thanks, Marvin said, before taking a long drink. Okay. What’s the deal?

I took a drink of the soothing liquid myself and collected my thoughts before answering. "This was all about learning how they plan to achieve their goals, I said. I know what their intended goals are, and the big one is killing off most of the world’s population."

Nuclear war, Marvin breathed, his eyes wide. That’s what Ukraine was all about.

Sortof, I hedged. They were also trying to destroy that proof of corruption we have sitting in our vault.

Oh, right, Marvin agreed.

This might get complicated fast, I said, so stop me if you have any questions. Marvin nodded, so I continued. "When Sam and I trained you in the whole time and space jumping thing – we really need a name for that – you learned to think of time as a sphere instead of a line. Infinite points connected to infinite points. It’s ridiculously complex. Imagine that you have an unknown number of people to track down in that mess. How do you do it?"

Marvin shook his head.

I smiled warily. It’s different every time, I said. I’m sorry. I’ll simplify it to this particular chase. We know what they’re trying to do: instigate a nuclear war. Possibly a civil war. In order to identify them in the present, I find and mark them in the past. To find them, I need to know how they intend to instigate a war. There are three basic ways to start a war in this kind of environment.

I took a sip of water. The most obvious is an overt action, I said. The best example I can think of, in our culture, is the J.F.K. assassination. President Kennedy was slowing down the Cold War, so he was assassinated and his murder was blamed on the Soviet Union. As a result, the Cold War and arms race ramped up again.

The second way is to make a critical change to some historical event that leads inevitably to conflict, I continued. "The problem with doing that is humanity. We’re incredibly resilient. Also, time is far more complex than we understand, and it’s unbelievably difficult to know which changes will produce a desired result. The interferer made several changes and almost succeeded."

I paused as images of the horrors we had seen in war-torn Ukraine flashed through my mind. I also saw those military boots stuck in the mud with lower legs still inside them. The wan smile melted off of my face.

Marvin brought me out of my reverie by clearing his throat and asking, And the third way, professor?

I smiled again, a little embarrassed. Do what you know, I said. Liars lie. Interferers mess around with things. False prophets….

...use religion, Marvin said.

I pointed a finger at him. You got it, I said. "But that’s only the start, though. How they use religion is important, because it determines which events they’ll likely visit. Inspiration? Condemnation? Or fear and mass hallucination?"

Fear and mass hallucination, Marvin echoed.

Hence, the Salem witch trials, I said. We found them there, which means they’re studying successful examples of what they want to do. They’re putting together a plan that uses fear and mass hallucination to whip up the people into a chaotic frenzy that’s ripe for war.

Given what we just avoided, Marvin said, that’s really bad.

Sure is, I agreed. I rubbed my hands over my face and stood up. I need to identify the next most likely events. I have a feeling we’ll find more...and we need to start marking and identifying them. I started walking toward the library.

You do this all the time? Marvin asked. I turned around and gave him a quizzical look. I mean, this is what you think about?

Mostly, I answered. This and how to stop them.

Are we going to talk about that hard edge you’ve developed since Ukraine? he asked.

That’s what I think about the rest of the time, I said.

image-placeholder

My nightmares had become more frequent of late.

This time I was chasing down a murderer in the darkness of a forest, my breath heaving and my feet crunching in the leaves and detritus of the forest floor.

I couldn’t make out anything about the person I was chasing. It was just a shapeless figure ahead of me, running away. I chased...and I was gaining ground.

The mysterious murderer suddenly stopped running. My right hand, holding something heavy, whipped up and swept forward as I ran past. I heard a thick, juicy kushunk noise, then the echoing, slow-motion noises of two heavy things hitting the forest floor. I looked down at my right hand and saw the glint of a sword. Blood was dripping from the blade.

Oh, no! Did I just decapitate the murderer?

I dropped the sword and it rolled out of my hand to land with a clear crunch on the forest floor. My hand was covered in blood, and it began to shake.

Am I a murderer?!

I jerked awake in a cold sweat as though I had been shocked. My heart was racing. The room was pitch black, like the forest in my nightmare had been. I suddenly felt soft, thick wolf fur under my hand and heard a quiet chuff. Ryan was watching over me. I was safe.

I sat up and lit the big candle on my bedside table, then spent several minutes hugging Ryan. I eventually decided I needed a glass of water. I got up and put on a robe, then walked with Ryan out to the kitchen...which was already lit.

Sam came out of the kitchen, saw me, and stopped in his tracks. He was looking at my face intently. Good morning, he said.

Morning, I replied.

Those dark circles under your eyes tell me you haven’t been sleeping well, he said matter-of-factly. The sweat you’re drenched in tells me you’ve had another nightmare. Care to talk about it?

I sighed heavily and, after weeks of nightmares, relented. Sure, I said. I glanced at Marvin’s door.

Do you want me to wake him? asked Sam.

No, I said. Let him sleep.

We sat on the front porch with fresh cups of coffee. Ryan laid curled up next to me with his head resting on my bare foot. I had no idea why, but the silly floof did that a lot. It was comforting, so I didn’t complain. I told Sam about the nightmares. He stayed quiet until I was done.

After several moments of contemplative thought, he said, The answer is yes. In that case, you would be a murderer.

Really? I asked.

Did you personally witness the murder? he asked in return. Could you identify the murderer? Was there a trial? Were there other witnesses that identified the murderer? Were you appointed by the court to carry out an execution of the convicted person?

I knew better than to answer, and stared at my coffee instead.

"Do you know for sure it was a person?"

My blood turned into ice water. What else would it be? I asked.

Sam didn’t look at me. He just shrugged and sipped his coffee. All I will say, he said, is that you need to get a handle on your rage.

I nodded. He was right. It had peeked out a little in Ukraine, and I had used it to intimidate the propheteers earlier. It had been convenient a few times, but it made me feel horrible...and it was extremely dangerous. Those two propheteers had cost the lives of so many innocent people….

I came to my senses and looked up as Marvin came walking out of the cabin. Y’all getting an early start without me? Marvin asked.

I had a quick internal debate about whether I should let him in on the conversation. I wasn’t fast enough.

You’re obviously talking about something, Marvin observed.

I grinned to myself. The hero and the mentor talking without the sidekick? I asked, barely containing laughter. "That never happens." I rolled my eyes up to Marvin’s face. He was standing perfectly still, staring at me with wide eyes and a crazed grin. From experience, I knew he was considering whether to fight or just mouth off.

He chose, wisely, to simply say, Watch it, punk.

I stood up and walked past him with a friendly wink and pat on the chest. I went into the cabin and walked toward the kitchen. I need to get breakfast started, I said. We need to be in Moscow for the inauguration this evening, and we have a lot of preparations to make.

I didn’t know we were going to that, Marvin called after me, perplexed.

I barked laughter and called back, Sidekick.

Sam laughed, too.

Chapter 2

Moscow, Russia

October 1, 2022

Marvin and I had trained all day. Fortunately, like me, he was a fast learner and had solid manual dexterity. The only thing that really took a lot of work was timing. I had a handy metronome built into my head. Marvin didn’t.

I had taught him the Russian military inspection routine, along with marching, cadence, and decorum. Believe it or not, a lot of that stuff relies on precise timing as well as movement. The nationality doesn’t matter. If an officer wants to see that your rifle’s chamber is empty and clean, and you flip the rifle over too soon, you risk hitting that officer in the face. Wait too long and you look incompetent.

It took all day, but we got there. Now, we were in Moscow, standing in formation, waiting to be inspected, overseen by the new President of Russia. In American military lingo, the President is known as the Commander in Chief. In Russian military lingo, the President is called the Supreme Commander in Chief.

One-upmanship? Maybe. Nations are funny about their competition, sometimes.

We passed inspection flawlessly. I was so proud of Marvin. Very few people could – in a single day – pick up everything necessary to pass as an elite soldier undergoing inspection...in another country.

I was impressed.

As we marched away, I got a better look at the new Russian President. He looked like a stout, muscular man with a thick neck and face chiseled from marble. No alarm bells went off in my head. No unease twisted my gut. He was just...some dude. Just a guy.

This confused me. I was expecting to see the face of an enemy, but...nothing. What in the world? Doubtless he was in the same position as the previous President. Maybe he didn’t know about it yet?

I pondered that as we marched. When we had been dismissed, Marvin and I found a hard-to-see corner and vanished.

image-placeholder

When we appeared at the cabin, Stephen was there with Randy. Marvin and I both loved Randy like a brother, but when he appeared at random with that worried look it couldn’t be good news. The look on Stephen’s face was similar.

Uh-oh.

I managed to keep my rage in check, but my guts hardened. Apparently, it showed on my face. I walked past