by B. C. CHASE
Henry shook his head incredulously, “Does anyone else volunteer?”
Aubrey had been watching the conversation with growing unease. Since Andrews had first fallen at her feet when she was down the portal, she had felt an empathy for him. Now, it seemed obvious to her that he had been kidnapped. Someone should volunteer to try to save him. It made her angry that nobody was stepping up—especially since all of these people had been here for some time. It could have easily been one of them whose life had been ruined just as Andrews's had. Fueled by her anger, she rose to her feet and said, “I volunteer!”
She immediately felt all the eyes in the room upon her.
Lady Shrewsbury clapped her hands together, “Well done, Aubrey. And I will go with you.”
Henry said, “I'm not sending granny England and America's next top model into the abyss together! Surely one of the 75,000 people on this god-forsaken island has military experience.”
Suddenly Bridges spoke, “Retired Marine—Special Operations here.”
“At last!” Henry exclaimed.
“What Marco said about this being spec ops is right. That’s who needs to go down there. But, personally, I think it's time we save Andrews for good.”
“Well spoken, sir,” Henry said. “Will you lead a team down, then?”
“Yes, but I have some conditions,” Bridges said.
“Certainly. Anything you say,” Henry replied.
“I want guns. Not toys: guns. And I'll pick my team members. Some of them may not be from around here.” When he said the last sentence, he cast an unfriendly eye toward Aubrey.
She piped, “I volunteered first; I'm definitely going.”
Henry snapped, “You're doing no such thing, Aubrey. Sit down.”
She said angrily, “You have no right to tell me what to do. I said I'm going, so I'm going!”
“Your salary gives me every right to tell you what to do.” Henry turned to Bridges, “Please explain to her that Barbie isn't invited with the G.I. Joes.”
Bridges sighed, looking at Aubrey, “I'll admit I don't want to have to be responsible for protecting you.” Then he said, “Normally I'd say no, but this is an extreme circumstance. I'm not dumb enough to deny the help if she's willing to accept the danger.”
Aubrey flashed triumphant eyes at Henry.
Henry slumped with his chin in his hand, “Can you pull this together today, Bridges?”
“That shouldn't be a problem,” Bridges said. And the next team members I want to add are Doctor Pearce and Doctor Kaufmann, if they’ll agree. I need a physician in the event of an emergency and Doctor Kaufmann is the chief scientist here, so that’s a given.”
“Then you can count me in,” the Doctor Pearce said.
Bridges nodded gratefully.
Henry said, “Excellent. Now, Jinkins, there is another important matter that I needed to make clear.”
“What is that, Mr. Potter?”
“I have decided upon an important role for you in Paradeisia's future. You will be Paradeisia's mascot. I want you in ads. I want you in brochures. I want you on the sites, the apps, in figurines. I want you everywhere. I want you to host the opening ceremony. You will be the official face of Paradeisia. Is that acceptable to you, sir?”
“I believe that would be,” Jinkins grinned, “right up my alley.”
United Nations Security Council
The fifteen minute break was coming to a close, and the auditorium was filled with commotion as people shuffled to their chairs. Doctor Martin shook his head. “Sorry, the seat is taken.”
The inquirer slowly nodded acknowledgement, moved on.
Where has she gone off to, anyway? he wondered. This had been a long absence, and he was starting to become anxious.
Doctor Martin jerked in fright when the man behind the AUSTRALIA placard banged the gavel. “We will now resume our pivotal session, ‘Evaluation of Key Events and Phenomena Relevant to Awareness, Felicity, and Secuirty’ as part of the 7,402nd session of the General Assembly. I would like to welcome a most distinguished member of the witness panel. Known as ‘The People’s Pope,’ he has been perhaps the most important harbinger for the peace and prosperity in recent memory. He is Pope Hans Keros.
As a robed figure stepped up towards the testimonial desk, the auditorium rose to applaud thunderously. The pope nodded, smiled in acknowledgement, raising his hands as if to bless the masses. An assistant pulled the chair back for him to take his seat, and the noise died down.
With an unplaceable accent, the elderly holy man spoke, “God has spoken to me. I have been given a message, and it is for that reason that I believe I am here, although none of you who invited me knew this. So thank you for this opportunity. It is, to me, implausible to think that the United Nations has become the epicenter of enlightenment where spiritual matters are concerned. I would like to say, ‘Where have you been all this time?’ But rather than that, I will simply say, ‘Welcome. We are glad you have joined the table.’
“You see, we all feel that we have purpose. That there is meaning. That, above all, humankind is not adrift in a sterile universe devoid of life. How do we know this? Because we seek the answers. We ask ‘why?’
“It was said, ‘Let us make humankind in our image, to be like us. They will rule the fish of the sea, the birds that fly, the livestock, and everything that crawls over the earth.’ And it was so.
“We do not need science to tell us that we are different from all the life that has been placed with us on this terrestrial home. And we do not need science to tell us that we were not the first beings of reason and cognition in this universe.
“But science is telling us these things. Science is telling us, ultimately, that we are created. Created with reason, purpose, and love. As economic disparity decreases, disease is eliminated, prejudice is eradicated, and education is granted as a universal right, all the world is cured of the greatest sin of all: inequality. Love is finally shining through. We are beginning to realize that humankind has been made like our creators: that we are good, that the evil that has plagued our planet for so long has been caused not by man, but by ignorance. Slavery was the result of the ignorant belief that one human can be more worthy than another. Nazism was born out of the suffering of the German people when the world punished them for the tragedy of the First World War. Terrorism has its roots in lack of opportunity and fulfillment.
“The universal message of all the world’s great religions is the insignificance of self, the sacrifice of self, for the betterment of others.
“We have entered an era of radiant illumination, built on the firm foundation that religion and science have provided. And this is only just in time, for science is informing us of the greatest challenge that humanity has ever faced, greater even than our own ignorance of the past.
“Our planet has been crying out to us for years. The signs have been everywhere. The changing temperatures. The rising tides. The melting glaciers. Deforestation, pollution, and voracious, unsustainable consumption. We are killing our home.
“This is the new religion that all of us, no matter our backgrounds and various faiths, must come to terms with. This is the unifying religion that, despite our various differences, we can all believe. For if we do not, we will be confronted with the stark consequences of our inaction. We will lose this beautiful diamond in the rough, and we will all perish, from the mightiest to the poorest.
“We are being told this message not only from earth herself, but directly from God. They have spoken to me, the ambassadors of gods. The Virgin Mary. The Christ. The Prophet, peace be upon him. Buddha. Ra. All have appeared to me and delivered this solemn message: stop killing your home, save the earth. Or die.”
The AUSTRALIA representative abruptly interrupted, “Excuse me, Your Holiness. If I may, I just want the record to be clear. You are saying that you have seen and heard from Jesus Christ?”
The pope leaned forward into the microphone and exclaimed, “Open your eyes! They are comin
g and they will speak to us all. Their message will terrify us to our core. Only then will we act!
“We must move now to save ourselves and our dear planet. We owe it to those who placed life here. We were supposed to be stewards. Instead, we have been rapists of mother earth.”
Keelung, Taiwan
Gary tensed. "Get out of the car," he commanded.
"Gary?"
"Stacy, get out of the car." Quickly shaking Chiang-gong's hand, Gary said, “We don't want to put you in danger.” Then he swung the passenger door open and stepped out onto the street.
They had walked only a couple steps when the soldiers took notice and raised their heads to them. Gary took Stacy by the hand and they ran for their lives.
Negotiating between the vehicles on the road, they raced to the market, then pushed their way as quickly as they could through the crowd.
Rushing between two carts, one with poultry and the other with cheap apparel, Gary swung open the door to a building and pulled her inside. The door slammed behind them and they found themselves in a short, dark hallway with a flight of stairs. They climbed the steps as quickly as they could, the sounds of the soldiers stealing into the building and ascending the steps echoing on the walls.
A partially open door was at the top of the stairs, and as they ran out, the rooftop scene revealed rows of buildings stepping down to a port filled with huge vessels and cranes lifting machinery onto the piers. Gary swung Stacy back beside the door they had come out of and pulled it open, concealing himself against the wall behind it.
He panted hard as he waited, hearing the soldiers nearing the top of the stairs. As the first soldier emerged from the doorway, he swung the door in its face one, two, three times until it was bloody and disoriented. Stealing its knife from its sheath, Gary slit its throat. Before the second soldier could react, Gary awkwardly pounded his head against its skull and pushed it over the short stair rail where it plummeted down to the lower level, bones cracking on the concrete.
The third soldier managed to graze Gary's arm with a bullet before he stabbed it just above the collarbone and launched it backwards down the stairs, the gun falling from its grasp as it toppled. Gary dashed down the steps and retrieved the weapon. To his surprise, the wounded soldier sat up and drew the knife from its own flesh. Then it stood and, with a snarl, soared up the flight of steps with a single, incredible leap.
Knocking Gary to the ground with the back of its fist, it raised the knife above its head to strike. He rolled over, the blade missing him by an inch. He shakily pulled himself to his feet. The soldier slashed left, then right, nearly shredding his shirt as he stepped back. He was pressed against the wall. As the soldier lifted the knife in its fist, he pulled to the side, the blade ringing against the bricks. With a ferocious, inhuman growl, the soldier drew back to strike again, and Gary was cornered. At that moment, a shot fractured the soldier's forehead and its black eyes rolled into its head, its body toppling over like a grizzly. Gary raised himself up from his cowering position. Stacy's trembling hands held the smoking machine gun. With a shout of happiness, Gary wrapped his arms around her and kissed her cheeks and forehead.
She handed him the weapon and he said, “Come, honey.” They rushed to the edge of the roof. The adjacent building was close enough that they were able to jump to it. Just as they were midway across the second roof, six soldiers poured from the door on the first. Slowing at the far edge, Gary looked down from the roof. The gap to the next building was too great and about two floors lower. They could not make the jump, and even if they did, Gary feared breaking bones. A black cable stretched between the two buildings. Gary looked back at the fast-approaching soldiers and, with a look of consternation, threw the weapon onto the opposite roof. Then he lowered himself down to sit on the edge, gripping the cable firmly.
“Gary, no,” Stacy said.
Gary shrugged and slid off to dangle in midair. With great exertion, he pulled himself away from the building to make room for his wife. “Hurry, babe!” he said, his voice husky. She lowered herself delicately, though quickly, to cling to the cable.
As they struggled to pull themselves across, the tension on the line increased. It didn’t seem secure. “Hurry, honey!” Gary encouraged.
“I'm coming, sweetheart," she snapped in irritation. Through clenched teeth, she said, “If we ever make it back home, you're not watching any more action movies!”
The first of the soldiers appeared on the edge of the roof. It raised its weapon and aimed directly at the couple.
Suddenly a shot rang out, and the soldier toppled off the roof and fell end over end to crack on the ground below, where a familiar figure stood.
“Gayee! Stacy!” Chiang-gong exclaimed with a smile, lifting Gary’s machine gun above his head.
“How did you find us?” Gary shouted, struggling to keep his grip.
“Forget about that!” Stacy shrieked to her husband. “He needs to help us get down!”
Chiang-gong suddenly exclaimed, “Ah!” and fired a volley of bullets. Three soldiers who had appeared at the edge fell backward.
Gary knew they couldn’t hold on much longer. He moved in so her body was flat against his, hoping to hold onto her if she fell and absorb the shock when they hit the ground.
Suddenly the place where the cable was attached broke free, and they swung down with tremendous speed, hitting the concrete wall. The cable continued to break free from metal braces, lowering them farther down toward the ground until finally they landed in a heap.
Chiang-gong ran over and helped them up. He exclaimed, “You lucky be alive!”
“Yes,” Gary said. “Thank you for coming.”
The three of them sneaked as quickly as they could down a row of gardens, staying close to the buildings.
Ahead, the buildings tapered down a gentle slope to the port. The gardens ended and became a narrow street, parked cars and motorbikes on either side. At Chiang-gong’s lead, they took a thin alley between two buildings on the right.
They reached a wide avenue that lined the port. Some distance away, across the squared off water, was a 20-floor shining new building. On top were the letters “PLC.”
“Preseption Logic Corp,” Gary muttered under his breath.
SaiLine Paradise
Several passengers were already there in the hallway, their eyes wide with fear. Doctor Ming-Zhen hastily walked down the carpet, passing a man who had wrapped a cloth around his face as a mask.
Masks.
That’s what he had been missing about the soldiers. They had not been wearing biohazard masks. If they came knowing that the ship was in trouble due to an infectious disease, they should have been wearing masks. So that presented two possibilities. The first was that they did not know that the ship was infected. That seemed extremely unlikely. The second was that they knew the ship was infected but did not care. And if they did not care, that could only be because they knew they would not be infected themselves. What the implications of that thought were, Ming-Zhen could not devote the focus to process, but it was a disturbing thought.
The hallway was over one thousand feet long. He had to lean slightly to the left to counter the lean of the ship which was noticeable, and very slowly increasing.
Suddenly, a rupturing crack unlike anything Doctor Ming-Zhen had heard ripped through the ship, and a deep groan resounded from the steel. The floor shuddered, causing him to stop and put his hands on the walls for stability. The second half of the hallway far, far ahead visibly began to slowly deviate to the left. The people there were also holding the walls to steady themselves.
The quaking did not abate, so he resumed his trek, striding at a very brisk pace. He passed an elderly wife who was supporting her aged husband as they walked. He wished he could have rendered assistance, but he was on a mission to find his wife and daughter if they were still alive.
The hallway was noticeably listing. As they came closer to the opening in the hallway where the stairwells and elevator
lobby were, Doctor Ming-Zhen noticed an acrid smell. A wispy haze was flowing along the ceiling illuminated lights. It was pouring up from the wide, carpeted stairwell. Suddenly, through the billows of thick, black smoke appeared the blackened figure of a person. The man coughed and fell to the floor. His skin was charred, with bits of red flesh exposed. Doctor Ming-Zhen knelt down to the man, but he was already dead. He rose and hurriedly continued on down the hallway, thinking he would try the atrium staircase.
“Water’s coming in!” someone at the theater doors shouted. As one, the crowd moved back from the doors, seawater creeping under their feet and spilling down the aisle ramp.
“This is not good,” Donte said.
Suddenly, the central doors made a sound and swung open, releasing a small surge of water. A crew member said, “Come out! Come out, everyone!”
Donte’s mother rushed up toward the exit but then stopped to search for her son. He was standing over Bao who was kneeling at her daughter’s body. The water sparkled as it rushed around her lifeless frame. Bao kissed her daughter’s cheeks, tears spilling from her own. Donte put his hand on her shoulder, then lowered and closed Li’s eyes with one hand. “C’mon. We have to go find your husband,” he said to her. “Zhou,” he said. “We have to find Zhou.” He took her hand and she reluctantly rose. “C’mon,” he encouraged. She covered her mouth, crying and clutching her daughter’s clothes with one hand.
Donte pulled her away toward the door. His mother took Bao’s other hand and they led her together, the cool water rushing at their ankles.
As they exited the theater into a marble-floored, wide hallway with a staircase on either side, Donte took one look back at Li’s body as it surrendered to the water.
They stepped up the staircase with other passengers, their shoes squelching the water that had accumulated in them. Donte found it slightly reassuring to reach the next, water-free floor. Then the lights went out, plunging them into pitch blackness.