The Gods of the Uranium Hills

“What did you do with 320 million Americans?” – demanded Sgt. Rock.

“I moved them to another place” – King Uno in quiet reply.

Rock had been a brave soldier, doing whatever his country had asked of him for 15 years. He’d been in every God-forsaken corner of this globe, often doing things he wasn’t proud of but always, always doing them unquestioningly and with courage. He had never been afraid, but he was afraid now. Afraid to ask the question which must follow:

“What … other place?

“A place far from earth. A place you’ll never be able to reach. A place from which none will ever be able to escape” – King Uno.

Rock and Uno were the only men in the darkened Tea House in the middle of a blazing hot North African day. Uno had been at a table lazily sipping his drink when Rock had burst through the door to ask his questions. After Uno’s bit about never being able to escape, Rock removed his beret and approached Uno slowly, trying to order his thoughts:

What to say next? The whole world knows what I and my squad just found out: the entire country known as the United States of America – all 50 states – had been depopulated at midnight. Exactly at midnight. No – more – people. The animals were alright, plant life remained unharmed, even the buildings were intact. Just utterly empty of all human life – citizens and non-citizens alike. All…gone. Without a trace.

Rock stood next to the seated Uno – waiting for a signal. The king gestured that he should sit next to him, share his table, share his tea. The Sergeant managed his next question:

“What happens next?”

Uno cleared his throat, and proceeded: “Think of it this way: The whole world knows there is now a vast treasure sitting on an unoccupied and totally defenseless land.”

“Wait, what do you mean defenseless? What about all of our nuclear weapons that aren’t in the US – the ones in outer space, in submarines, in the air 24/7?”

“Oh…I moved those to another place also, though not the same place I moved your people. These weapons are no longer a factor. Shall I continue?”

Crestfallen, Rock nods.

“For the near future, no one will dare enter the territory of the United States. Any would-be foreign trespassers might think, If I cross those borders, whatever happened to the disappeared Americans might happen to me. But…sooner or later, they won’t be able to resist. At first, they might send an expedition of Death Row prisoners as a test. If you offer a man his freedom, he’ll take considerable risks.”

“What will happen to anyone who enters? – Rock.

“Nothing. And sooner or later that land and its treasures will be seized and occupied by a number of foreign powers. And whosoever dwells in that land will prosper – or not – depending on their behavior.”

King Uno rises and walks toward the door, into the brilliant sunshine – Rock following silently behind. The rest of Rock’s squad sits 50 yards distance, under the bare shade of a few scraggly trees – just watching Rock and Uno.

“Who are you? What are you?” – Rock tugs Uno’s thin, patched cloak.

“Do you want a theological explanation or a demonstration of power?” – Uno offers.

At a loss for words, Rock stares blankly at Uno, who says, “You’re a military man, so I’ll give you a demonstration of power now. But later, I won’t spare you my theology. In that regard, I can be quite merciless. Now, Behold!”

As soon as Uno utters “Behold,” Rock sees Uno levitate into the sky and enlarge his body, filling the entire sky. Then he disappears from view and, in each of his ears, Sgt. Rock hears a tiny, harrumphing sound – like a voice clearing before speaking. Looking crazily from left to right to left again, Rock sees, hovering just above each of his shoulders, a four-inch King Uno. They disappear, to be replaced by the King standing in his original position in front of Rock.

The King instructs Rock to count slowly to five and then to turn around.

“One…two…”

Uno disappears. Rock continues counting, “three…four…five.” Then he turns…

He sees well over 100 life-sized King Unos waving at him, by the trees next to his astonished troops. Then all of the Unos disappear, leaving the foreigners to sort things out. After comparing notes – “Did you see what I saw?” – the troops asked their leader what King Uno had told him in the Tea House. And what was said face-to-face out of earshot.

* * * * * * * * * *

“What are we going to do now?” – Corporal Youngston asked of everybody in general but to nobody in particular. It didn’t make much sense to ask any questions of the man in charge, since the whole idea of “in charge” was suddenly irrelevant.

Rock said, “Let’s wait for sundown and walk to the Uranium Hills and watch the show. Just like we’ve done for weeks. Somehow, I think King Uno will be there. Maybe he’ll be open to some questions.”

* * * * * * * * * * *

It’s now well past sundown and the soldiers are waiting. Some of the locals drift in, dangle their feet over the ledge, and stare out silently at the Hills in the distance – watching the show. Dancing above the Hills in different shades of blue is radioactive light – like some otherworldly Northern Lights. But it was obvious to the Westerners that this was more than just the glow from uranium ore. Though that’s what first drew them to this place.

Rock remembered his commander exclaiming, back in the States, “There’s so much radioactive material in that wretched part of Africa, you can see the fricking glow from outer space!”

After securing permission from the local government, Rock’s team had been sent in to escort a group of geologists to determine the magnitude of this find. The scientists had departed ten days ago, leaving Rock behind to negotiate with King Uno. This was the odd part of this whole business: We’re used to dealing with central governments, but when we told them where we wanted to go, they just said, “You’ll have to deal with King Uno.”

When I first saw King Uno, I had to use my military training to restrain myself – from laughing. We went in with our vehicles and our gear, making a lot of noise. Our translator asked where we might find the King. We were led to a field being hoed by a group of sweaty, gnarly savages – one of whom was pointed out to be King Uno himself.

He looked no different from the field workers or the other locals – his skin was deep blue/black bearing the wrinkles and folds of a hard life and premature aging. But he had an elegance about him that, we found out soon enough, was shared (though to a lesser extent) by his subjects. It surprised us that he spoke English in addition to that native rot. It surprised us even more when he rejected our offer to mine this ore in exchange for untold riches.

He simply told us that he and his people were already rich enough, and (get this) he asks us to leave. And a day or two later, he tells us to leave. That’s when I’d had enough. Who the hell does he think he is? We can simply take what we want and not give him shit for it. I told him so in exactly those words. And he seemed totally unimpressed by my threat.

It turns out, he knew a lot more about us than I could imagine from someone in so remote a place. He said, “All empires fall.”

I answered: “Ours will not. Show me a mightier force that can stop us.” And he said, “Alright, I will.” And he walks away. Not long after, we got the news from our comm link to European HQ. The entire US, after midnight, was devoid of people.

When I first beheld the dancing lights of the Uranium Hills, I told Uno, “What’s making them dance? Radiation from ore alone can’t do that.”

Uno smiled and said it was the Gods dancing. To be sure, yes, there was uranium ore present – in massive quantities – but also numerous were the Gods.

“Do your people come here every night to worship these Gods?”

“Not exactly. They appear and we worship each other. I and my people pay our respects and the Gods dance for us. And by this dancing, teach us and entertain us.”

Yes, I remember King Uno saying all this, but where is he tonight? He’s always here with his people. And now when I and my men are desperate to question him, he’s nowhere to be seen. Then my gaze flicks toward the hills, seeing something different this time. A blue flame, like that of an oven’s pilot light, separates itself from the other dancers on the hills. And it’s coming toward us – dancing toward us.

The locals show no fear, but this makes us very uneasy. The dancing flame, the size of a man, makes its way to a small clearing behind us. And the flame extinguishes to become King Uno. He doesn’t wait for our questions, but makes us an offer instead:

“You are soldiers in an army which has lost its reason for existing. You now have nothing left to defend. Yes, there are Americans living abroad who could, just like you, try to move back to the US. But there will be nothing for them there that won’t have already been claimed, or will soon be claimed, by others far more powerful than you.

“So I propose: Stay here, with me, with my people. If you really try to lose your arrogance and keep an open mind, you will soon enough be able to do everything I can do. For we are all truly equal, at least in ability and at most in finality of being. There are others among my people who can do at least some of what I can do, though I am the most accomplished.”

Rock interrupts, “You mean some of your wretched, beaten-down people can fill the sky and multiply themselves at will?”

“Yes.”

“Will they show us?”

“Not any time soon. They know you can’t handle that until you become more familiar with us.”

Sergeant Garcia blurts out, “Are you Catholic?”

King Uno replies, “No, we’re not anything even remotely similar to anything you’re used to.”

Doubting Thomas snarls, “How do we know you’re not just hypnotizing us? Using mind control to deceive us?”

“Fine,” Uno counters. “Leave if you like but also know you’re free to come back, as my subjects.”

“Subjects?!” Rock exclaims.

“Yes. I am the king here, which really means no more than I am the head teacher. If you wish to live here, then I will be your king. This is not negotiable.”

“Then we’ll leave,” Thomas threatens triumphantly.

“But,” King Uno continues, “How will you know that I am not still controlling your mind, no matter how far away you end up going? Or how far away you think you’ll go?”

After a silent pause, King Uno continues, “By all means, you are free to go. But you will come to see things as I’ve described them. The United States as a power is no more, though I doubt in your wildest dreams that demise could possibly be arranged by a dirty king in a forlorn and remote land.”

Sergeant Rock asks, “Why did you do this?”

“Your actions here were the straw that broke the camel’s back, so to speak. You and your kind have become a scourge upon this planet, though in the beginning you had far nobler intentions. But I did this, not to punish but to teach.”

“Teach? Teach us what?” – Rock.

“Teach that seemingly irresistible power is nothing but an illusion, which ends up overpowering those who think they wield it. As for your departed countrymen, they are safe though in entirely different circumstances than before. What you might call a sudden reversal of fortune.”

“What about our loved ones, who you’ve moved to that other place?” – Rock.

“This is a big planet with lots of people. You will find others, but I urge you not to love them but to show compassion instead.”

“What about love, is that so bad?”

“Yes, it is…at least when compared to compassion. If you decide to stay, that difference will be among my first lessons to you.”

“And I’m supposed to just forget about my family?”

“Yes, give them up, for they will never come back to you and you cannot go to them. You are not indispensible to them nor they to you.”

Sergeant Rock looks toward the heavens and spreads his arms asking, “What do we do now?”

King Uno smiles and says, “That’s a question I ask myself every day, and is a very good place to start.

Steven Searle for US President in 2012

Founder of The Independent Contractors’ Party

“By the way, that’s pronounced ‘King You-Know’” – Steve.