Eddington: A Cup And Joe

Otecko sat there, sipping his coffee, staring out into space. He waited as we sat down, each taking a place around him like we did when we were kids. Only this wasn’t a bedtime story.

“We’ve faced many enemies of freedom, all similar, just different coats. Whether it was the Nazis, or the Communist, or even before, the goal is always the same. Liberty not for the many, but the few.”

He paused, and sipped again. I saw Joe resisting the urge to hurry it along, knowing the slowness wasn’t for effect. It was almost as if he was struggling to share something with us.

“Our countries have always had good men, ready to sacrifice if needed. When I was young, four of us were chosen, not to fight, but to transport. They knew we had chosen to seek new paths for our future families, and they asked us.”

“We were to carry something old into our journey towards the new. Novak put something in four containers, and sent them with us. I hoped last week was just a random act, until tonight. He was looking here, because he expected I passed it to the next generation, and they to one of you.”

Joe didn’t ask, and neither did I. We each made calls to make sure everyone was safe. Otecko let us, and then continued. “I knew they were safe, because he is here. This was their second attempt, and since we have fought back, it will do three things.”

“First, it will anger them. Fighting back always angers evil men. Second, it will confuse them, the fact that they have failed again. Last, it will intensify them, they will be more dangerous next time, and there will more of them.”

Joe couldn’t take it anymore. “Otecko, what are they looking for? What is it?” He looked at us with very sad eyes. 

“Something I would not give them, but also, something I could not give them. Because I no longer have it, it has been passed already, but not to any of you.”