Free The Cypher by Julian Rosado-Machain Page B

the Doctor corrected. “Bolswaithe is the robot.”
    Thomas grabbed his throbbing head and felt a small bump covered with gauze. Monsters, gargoyles, and life-like robots just added to his headache.
    “Grandpa?” he asked afraid of the answer. The tentacled monster had been hiding on his grandfather’s bed.
    “I’m sure he’s alive,” the Doctor sighed. “The Adze trolls and the Voraxglobum weren’t there to capture you, but to kill you. That only means that the Warmaster already has him and you are expendable.”
    The Warmaster . Thomas thought. That name sounded right out of a video game.
    “I know!” Doctor Franco said opening his hands. “Magical creatures love titles like that. Besides, if we knew his real name we would’ve dealt with him long ago. Names have real power over his kind.”
    Finally there was confirmation that these people really read minds, and Thomas wondered if he would be able to do it too if he remained with the company long enough.
    “Ahh. Yes. No. Maybe,” the Doctor continued. “I read minds. Bolswaithe’s sensors give him a 720-degree perception so he can anticipate human reactions and serve us better, and Mrs. Pianova is just good at what she does. As for you, who knows? Stranger things have happened.”
    “Can you please stop?” Thomas asked him between clenched teeth. “It’s incredibly annoying.”
    “Oh, don’t worry about that,” the Doctor answered. “I won’t be able to read your thoughts for much longer. Your mind is becoming too complex.”
    “Can you just tell me what’s going on?” he almost screamed.
    The Doctor pursed his lips as he extended both his hands in the air. “Well,” he began. “Here is…” he wiggled his right hand looking for words, and then wiggled the other. “While us…” he moved them from side to side before giving up. “Can you walk? It’s easier if I showed you.”
    Thomas immediately scrambled from the bed, but Bolswaithe stopped him and insisted to take him in a wheelchair.
    The medical ward door opened directly into the right corridor of the mansion. Other employees walked diligently through the corridor, their colored tags dangling from their necks. They all nodded toward Doctor Franco as they passed.
    The Doctor opened a door on the left and they entered a hall at least as big as Thomas’s station filled with photographs, paintings, and statues.
    “A little history first,” the Doctor said. “This hall has the principals and distinguished collaborators of Guardians Incorporated. You might recognize some of them.”
    Thomas looked at the pictures on the wall. He recognized the scientist in the wheelchair that talked through a computer, but he couldn’t remember his name. He also recognized politicians, scientists, and even actors. Many were American and English, but others looked to be from different parts of the world, from what seemed to be Wall Street tycoons to tribal chiefs – all walks of life and countries were represented in the hall.
    Jolie, Mandela, Gandhi, Pasteur, Marley, JFK, Curie. The sheer number of people depicted was amazing.
    Doctor Franco and Bolswaithe walked to the other end of the room. A picture of Albert Einstein sticking his tongue out hung on the wall. Thomas realized that the pictures were arranged according to date.
    “Ahh,” the Doctor said and he led them toward a wall. “This is a perfect example of where to begin. Do you recognize those men?” He pointed at a picture. “That’s during World War II.”
    “President Franklin Roosevelt and Winston Churchill,” Thomas answered. Both men were seated on a bench, and a young man wearing a long coat and a golden circlet on his head sat between them. He didn’t seem much older than Thomas.
    “Who’s that guy?” Thomas asked pointing at the young man seated in the middle.
    “That’s King Seryaan,” the Doctor told him. “This was taken just after Stalin had left the Yalta conference in 1945. It’s even the same bench.”
    The