EXOSKELETON II: Tympanum

by Shane Stadler

  “Okay,” Grimes said as he pushed a large plastic mug into the center of the table. “Move this cup.”

  Grimes’ request conjured a flashback in Will’s mind. It was a test that the head of the Red Wraith program had tried to force him to do: he’d commanded Will to tip over a bottle while he was confined to the Exoskeleton. He’d had to kill that man in the end. Remnants of that same rage now welled up inside him.

  He closed his eyes and separated. He went to a position just above the mug and smashed it down with a powerful strike. Coffee and plastic exploded on the people around the table. He went back to his body just in time to catch some of the backsplash.

  When he opened his eyes, everyone was wiping their faces and clothes, and it was clear that Grimes had taken the brunt of it. He regretted splashing Denise and Jonathan, but he was going for effect. Denise had a smile on her face. Everyone else looked confused and frightened.

  One of the officers made a run for the closed door. Will instinctively separated and met the man just as he pulled it open it, and slammed it closed so hard that it cracked like the report of a firearm, inducing many of the observers to jump.

  “Will, let him go!” Denise yelled.

  He released the door and the officer, now frantic, opened it and ran out.

  He recombined with his body and opened his eyes to see pale, wide-eyed faces, including Denise’s. The wooden table was cracked and splintered in the area where the cup had been destroyed.

  “Sorry,” he said. “I wanted the demonstration to be convincing.” He looked to Grimes. “Was that enough?” The question was not intended to be sarcastic.

  Grimes nodded, his face still dripping with coffee.

  “Now,” Will continued, “with that behind us, let me explain what I know. Hitler was attached to his ashes. It was him.”

  He looked around at the severely attentive eyes, especially those of Grimes. The others seemed to be in mild shock, but were listening intently.

  “What did he say?” Denise asked. “You were separated for almost twenty minutes in there.”

  Will had no idea that that much time had passed. “First, he tried to break the tether that connects my soul and body – he wanted to take over.”

  “Like a possession?” Grimes asked.

  “I suppose so, yes,” Will answered. “When that failed, he ordered me to get out – to die. He became very frustrated. That’s when I talked to him. I told him he’d better answer my questions or we’d throw his ashes into the sea. That seemed to have some effect. I then asked him about the beacon. He said the purpose of his existence – every vile thing he’d done while on this planet – was to get inside the ‘orb,’ as he called it.”

  “To do what?” Daniel asked.

  “Flip the switch and start some chain of events,” Will answered.

  “Which is what?” Grimes asked.

  Will shook his head. “I don’t know,” he replied. “But it couldn’t be good considering that Hitler wanted it to happen. He said it no longer mattered if we decipher the remaining rings of the stone – it’s too late. He was elated.”

  Grimes looked anxious. “We’ve been in the area for a long time, and Naval Command is on the verge of giving us new deployment orders,” he said and stood. He brushed a few shards of wet plastic from his shirt.

  “It’s only been two days since the beacon disappeared,” Sylvia argued.

  Grimes nodded. “After I get cleaned up, I’ll make a request to remain in the area. In the meantime, you should get back to deciphering the White Stone inscription. Maybe we can get an idea of what’s coming.”

  “That’s another thing,” Will said, recalling the last thing Hitler said before disappearing. “The translations of the White Stone inscriptions are in the book by Schwinger. Sound familiar to any of you?”

  No one responded.

  “Maybe it’s in the books we took back from the base,” Daniel said. “But we could have left it behind – there were thousands.”

  “How many did you bring back?” Will asked.

  Daniel shrugged. “Maybe 100, but they were only the ones on the table in the library or in the vault – nothing stored on the shelves.

  “If it’s important enough to go back, we will,” Captain Grimes said and then left the room. The other officers and the languages professor followed.

  “That was quite a demonstration,” Jonathan said, and shook his head. “I wasn’t ready for that.”

  Daniel looked at Will with wide eyes. “I was skeptical at a subconscious level,” he admitted. “No longer.”

  “Me too,” Sylvia added.

  Will sat forward with his elbows on the table. “When I said I felt something was coming, I meant it was imminent,” Will said and stood. “Where are the books?”

  “Follow me,” Daniel said.

  “I need to put on a clean shirt,” Jonathan said.

  So did Sylvia.

  They agreed to meet in the research room in 20 minutes, and Will walked to his quarters. His chest seemed to tighten more and more as time moved forward. He was wrong to say that something “was imminent.” He didn’t want to frighten everyone. It was already here.

  8

  Friday, 12 June (8:37 p.m. EST)

  Will went to his quarters and donned a clean jumpsuit and a USS Stennis baseball cap. He was pleased with his treatment by the captain and crew; wearing a uniform devoid of rank seemed to command more respect than an officer.

  It would be a hopeless task to translate the remaining rings of the White Stone in time to influence what was coming – if that were even possible. Their only hope was to find the translations in the book by Schwinger.

  As much as he tried to put it out of his mind, the fact remained that Adolf Hitler himself had claimed his sole objective was to flip the switch in the beacon. Will’s nerves electrified with worry. Had he awakened everything that had been put to sleep in World War Two? So many people had died to thwart the Nazis’ quest to take over the world. But he now thought Hitler wanted something different. Was there more to it than ruling the world? Did he want to destroy it? If so, Will felt as though he’d carried on their work for them. Would he be ultimately responsible for finishing the job? Time would tell.

  He sighed and shook his head. Again, if he hadn’t turned the lever, someone else would have. Separation research like that carried out in the Red Wraith project had already proliferated, as demonstrated by Cho. Destroying Syncorp, and anyone else attempting to emulate it, was a hopeless endeavor. It was like trying to stop the development of nuclear weapons. The difference was that Red Wraith research was easier than getting nukes; it didn’t require rare materials like weapons-grade uranium or plutonium. It didn’t take much to torture people. It might take a century, but eventually they’d create someone else with separation abilities. Someone would eventually enter the beacon and pull that switch.

  He headed in the direction of the of the research room, but was cut off by Captain Grimes’s first officer just a few steps out of the mess hall.

  “The captain needs you right away,” the officer said. “There’s been a development.”

  Will followed the sailor to the ready room. Everyone was there, and all had concerned expressions. Denise seemed the most nervous, fidgeting with her hands.

  “We picked up a signal an hour ago from a location near that of the first beacon,” Grimes said. “We got verification from the North Dakota, with images.”

  Grimes opened a laptop and turned it toward the others. The images were identical to those of the first beacon. It seemed strange: he’d expected more than just another beacon.

  “This one seems physically identical to the first,” Grimes explained, “but there are some differences.”

  “Such as?” Denise asked.

  “First, it’s not exactly in the same location, but close – within a kilometer,” Grimes said. “Second, it’s located closer to the surface – at a depth of 200 meters.”

  “A sub can reach it?�
� Daniel asked.

  Grimes nodded. “Finally, the frequency of the signal is about 100 beats per second.”

  “A hundred hertz,” Will said. “The first one beat at just one beat per second?”

  “Slightly more,” Daniel said.

  “There’s something odd about this signal, however,” Grimes added. “The frequency decreases by about one cycle every 10 minutes,” Grimes replied. “It started at 101.7 beats per second when we first discovered it about an hour ago. It’s now down to 95.1 Hertz.”

  “It’s a countdown,” Will blurted. “The wraith – Hitler – mentioned it. The Nazis knew that the first one was counting down. He said that it was supposed to retract into the seabed when the frequency reached one beat per second.”

  “But they’d had years to work,” Denise said. “At this rate, we only have 950 minutes – less than 16 hours.”

  “What happens after 16 hours?” Grimes asked.

  “Maybe we lose an opportunity – it sinks back into the seabed not to reappear for a century,” Will speculated. “Or maybe something else …”

  Recognition and urgency filled Daniel’s eyes, and he looked to Grimes.

  Grimes seemed to understand. “What do you propose?” he asked.

  Will knew what they needed to do. “Bring me to it,” he said.

  Grimes nodded. “I’ll summon the North Dakota,” he said. “We’ll get you there. But I must ask, if there is another switch, what are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know,” Will replied.

  “It won’t be the same as the first,” Daniel said.

  Will agreed. What would be the point?

  Will accepted the fact that, whatever he might find, it came down to him, and him alone, to make a decision on behalf of the rest of the world.

  CHAPTER XVI

  1

  Saturday, 13 June (12:40 a.m. EST – Weddell Sea)

  Will hadn’t noticed the locker room smell his first time aboard the North Dakota. Having fallen in the icy sea hours before had probably distracted him.

  Sylvia and Daniel stayed aboard the Stennis and, with the help of their expert from Stanford, were attempting to decipher the White Stone, or find the book by Schwinger. Despite Will’s protests, Jonathan and Denise accompanied him on the North Dakota.

  A sailor brought them to a ready room where Captain McHenry and his first officer, Diggs, were waiting. They went through some of the details of timing and positioning. Five minutes later, they were in the navigation room watching the distance close between them and the beacon.

  As the North Dakota took position, Will was taken to an empty quarters. It was a small room with bunks on each side. He sat on one of the bottom bunks with his feet on the floor. He leaned forward, set his elbows on his knees, and put his hands over his face and rubbed his eyes. Denise sat on the bed directly across from him, her feet nearly touching his.

  “I’m worried,” she said, and touched his forearm. “What do you think this is? Aliens? God? What?”

  Will looked at her and could only shake his head. If extraterrestrials were the source of the beacons, then mankind may soon have proof of intelligent life beyond Earth. Such a discovery would have been mindboggling to him just a year ago. But the idea was no longer so astonishing, and he thought that the truth would be more profound. Even extraterrestrials were confined to the physical world – at least that’s how most people envisioned them. But he was evidence of existence outside of the physical world – an existence connected to humanity and, possibly, to something beyond it. Did it imply the existence of a superior being? Reincarnation? The possibilities were endless, and extraterrestrial life was insignificant in comparison.

  “It’s deeper than extraterrestrials,” he said. “At least the way we think of them.”

  Denise flinched at a knock on the door.

  “Yes?” Will said.

  “We’re in position,” a sailor said and poked his head in the small room. “Ms. Walker, please come with me.”

  Denise stood, and then bent down and kissed Will on the cheek. “If I had to choose anyone to do this, it would be you,” she said, and then walked out and closed the door.

  2

  Saturday, 13 June (1:17 a.m. EST)

  Will was face up on the lower bunk with his head resting on a stiff pillow. Taped to the bottom of the bed above were pictures of a sailor’s family – a smiling woman that seemed too young to have children. Her red hair was tied in a tight ponytail and she held a little blonde girl, maybe two or three years old. He knew the crew were away from their families for six months at a time and, by the nature of their job, put themselves in harm’s way. He hoped that whatever was going to happen – whatever he was about to do – didn’t jeopardize their safe return.

  He closed his eyes and separated. He passed downward and to the starboard side of the North Dakota, through the floor and into the ballast tanks. Finally, he slipped through the hardened-steel hull and into the water. Cold currents flowed through him, a sensation that was both pleasing and uncomfortable. The orb emitted a tone that, at below 100 hertz, was ominously deep, as if it were growling. At less than 50 meters away, the sound was so intense that he felt it in the water around him.

  He approached and touched the surface of the sphere, which was vibrating. It was physically identical to the first beacon, but something was different. It felt dark, like an ancient ruin with a sinister history.

  He softened his physical state and dragged himself through the shell and into its large, spherical void. The beating ceased, and the tug from his body was gone.

  Illuminated in bright white light at the geometric center of the sphere was a circular platform. It was perched atop a tapered stem that protruded from the bottom. The rest of the void was as dark as sackcloth.

  The platform was at least 20 feet in diameter, and looked to be composed of the same material as the beacon. On its smooth surface were two chairs and a white, circular table. Seated across the table from each other were two human-like beings – naked and hairless. They sat a meter apart, motionless and silent, staring blankly at each other with their hands flat on the table.

  Will was moving closer when he sensed motion to his right. He darted to the opposite side of the sphere and looked into the blackness, in the direction of the motion.

  A faint image, not unlike the wraiths he’d seen before, emerged from the shadows. This one seemed to take a human form, but the features were subtle, and he wasn’t sure whether he was imagining them – like one’s mind recognizes objects in puffy, white clouds in a summer sky.

  “Why don’t we settle into a physical presence and talk,” the wraith said in a deep, grating voice that Will found unsettling.

  “I don’t understand,” Will replied, almost startled by his own voice.

  The wraith took a position just above the table. “Come,” it said.

  Will approached the table. He was close to the wraith now – so close that he thought he sensed heat radiating from its location.

  “Take the empty body below you,” the wraith said and pointed to one of the humanoid beings.

  Will was confused. “What do you mean?”

  “The body below you is vacant,” the wraith explained. “It is pristine – it has never been occupied by a soul. Enter it.”

  Will froze. Occupy another body. Thoughts of demonic possession entered his mind.

  The wraith descended and entered the body below it, the eyes of which suddenly changed from those of a dead fish to those reflecting self-awareness, and life. The arms moved, and then it spoke. “Please,” it said in a physical, epicene voice, and gestured with its hands to the body directly across from it.

  Will moved slowly. As he entered the other body from the top, a warm sensation engulfed him and then seemed to pull him in. It was different from what he’d felt when he’d entered the CP inmate’s body to pinch an artery. In that case it had been as if something were trying to repel him. The present situation was like falling into a tub
of warm mud.

  He opened his eyes and found himself looking into the face of the being across from him. The first thing he noticed was that his vision was perfect – much better than in his own body. He held his hands in front of him and examined them, turning them back and forth and squeezing them into fists and releasing. He couldn’t believe what was happening: he was someone else. With the palm of his right hand, he pressed on his thigh, the one with the broken femur. There was no pain – it wasn’t his body. In fact, he felt unusually comfortable – no pain of any kind. He wondered how much discomfort he’d lived with on a day-to-day basis: his leg, lower back, feet, neck, sinuses, knees … how much pain had he gotten used to?

  “Who are you?” the being asked.

  “I’m William Thompson,” Will responded. “Who are you?”

  The being stared at him.

  After an awkward silence, Will asked, “Why am I here?”

  “All that is relevant is that I am here,” the being said.

  “Why are you here?”

  “You have reached maturity.”

  “Me?”

  “Your kind.”

  “My kind?”

  “Humanity.”

  Will’s mind reeled. The words existential implications came to him – something Daniel had said to him. For an instant he panicked. “Will I be able to get back to my body?” he blurted.

  “Yes,” the being replied and seemed to look deep into his eyes. “You do not yet understand that you can control time.”

  Will had no idea what he meant and looked back in bewilderment.

  “You cannot go backward in time, but you can operate so quickly that time effectively stands still in the physical world. That is what we are doing now. Your physical brain can only think at a finite speed – it takes a minimum amount of time to process a single thought. It is physically limited. No such limitations exist when you are outside your body.”

  Will recalled the pistons in the engines on the Chinese carrier: they had slowed when he concentrated on grasping them. Perhaps he was moving, and perceiving, so quickly that they only seemed to have slowed. “But we’re in physical bodies now,” Will said.