In A Universe Without Stars 1: Skyeater

by J Alex McCarthy

  They burst through the conference room doors. The room is filled with cameras and computer screens on the conference room tables. All of the screens show the world’s leaders, the Russians, the Chinese, the UK, the Iranians, all the big ones. It took a threat like this to finally, hopefully, bring the world together. When the threat is otherworldly, hostile nations around the globe are finally up for talks of peace.

  The US’s most important figures are crammed in the room: the secretary of defense, John York, rushes over to the President.

  “Brief me on the situation so far,” the president demands.

  “All of our defenses and counter protocols have been hacked, sir. We still have access to our satellites, however, most of our computer systems have failed.”

  York places his hands on the table, sweat on his brow. “I’ve never seen anything like this. They broke through everything in seconds!”

  “How can we be sure it’s not from Earth? Maybe it’s some kind of new Chinese technology,” the president asks, his ignorance showing.

  “Mr. President, why would we agree to this meeting if it was our own people who initiated the attack?” The Premier of China asks hostilely from one of the screens. They’re never going to get anywhere if he himself doesn’t trust anyone and open up, the president thought.

  “My apologies, Mr. Premier, just the process of elimination, we must eliminate all possibilities, external and internal.”

  York whispers in the president’s ear. “Sir, computer systems of every first world country have been hacked. Our intel shows that Russia and China have been hacked as well.” The president just nods. York’s watch beeps.

  “It’s time,” he says. He turns on a projector that displays on the wall. The screen simply says “Welcome.”

  “The unidentified threat sent a message saying that they will only relay their statement to the world when all the major world leaders have come together, or we risk total annihilation. I got the order from the vice president, sir, since you were unavailable,” York says. “This is the best we can do in the time they gave us.”

  The screen starts to count down like an old movie reel. “Welcome to your execution.” shows up on the screen next.

  “Welcome to your execution humans,” a voice emits from the speakers.

  Everyone freezes and stares at the screen. The voice is deep and well-articulated, they have no problem speaking our language. The message projects out of every monitor in the White House. Somebody tries to unplug the speakers in the conference room.

  But the voice continues. “The struggle for your planet will begin soon. You have twelve hours to prepare. The rest of the world will not be as lucky.”

  The president looks to his secretary of defense. “Who and what are they and how do we know the threat is real?”

  “This is very real, just now you are doubting us, others didn’t heed our warning. Which didn’t make this little game of ours…last as long as we would have liked.” There are audible gasps in the room, everybody is taken aback.

  “Did they just—“ the president mumbles. It isn’t a two-way link, his reply should’ve been impossible.

  “So we will leave you with a little present while you prepare.” A map shows up on the screen, it zooms in on a theme park.

  “Washington, D.C., that will be the battlefield, we will give you two hours to move the Earth’s forces there. After that… the rest of the world is on its own.” The sound cuts out and the message ends. No one moves, they’re too stunned to react.

  They are going to war.

  “We are now at war, we don’t know the enemy nor do we know their capabilities. But we will be ready and we do know that they are prepared to wipe us out and we must do the same,” the president says. He turns to the secretary of defense. “Move us to Defcon 1.”

  York whispers to a few people and they run out of the room. A countdown appears over the map on it, it counts down from twelve hours.

  …

  It is night at Six Flags Under Texas. Noata stands in a balloon darts stand. Noata is a 17 year-old shy-looking kid, he looks like he can be a J-pop star, if not for his tacky neon yellow and brown uniform.

  It’s a slow night, people trickle past his game stand, trying to get in one last ride before close.

  His gaze breaks through park goers as he stares at a beautiful girl across the walkway. He doesn’t even know how he got a girl like her, a shy guy like him, but he was lucky. It happened only one year ago today.

  She walks up to him and they kiss.

  “When do you get off?” She asks.

  “In two hours.”

  “Aww you’re going to miss my birthday.”

  “Don’t worry Lane.”

  His present to her last year was himself. Who would’ve thought that would work? Noata’s supervisor walks up. “Hey Matt! Can I go to the restroom?”

  Matt nods. Noata jumps out of the game stand as Matt takes his place.

  “Wait here, Lane,” Noata tells her.

  In the restroom, Noata holds a small rectangular black box and opens it. There’s a necklace in it. He hopes she will like it as he spent all summer saving up for it, it’s not the best, and perhaps he has spent too long working for it.

  Maybe he’s going too fast. Maybe she won’t like it. Maybe this maybe that. Butterflies swirl in his stomach. He can’t just stand there staring at it, wondering if she’s going to like it. He’s going to find out sooner or later.

  He walks to the door but stops. He turns around and goes to a urinal. He lets out a huge sigh as he relieves himself. He’s been holding it in for hours. It feels better than sex.

  The windows flash, the glasses shatters as a loud booming sound comes from the outside. He tries to pull up his pants. Another boom! The boom happens again and again.

  “Hundreds of screams pierce through the door as raving lights shine through the windows.

  Then everything stops.

  And then silence.

  He finally gets his pants up and runs out the door.

  He stops dead in his tracks. Blood pools around his shoes. It’s grim, every single person outside is dead. Kids, adults, everyone. Their bodies splayed out across the park grounds, screams frozen on their faces.

  There’s hundreds of them.

  Noata starts to shake.

  What happened?

  Blood oozes out of their orifices but there are no obvious entry or exit wounds, no holes or marks at all. It’s as if they simply dropped dead were they stood, bloody tears dripping from their eyes.

  There’s only the eerie sound of carnival music echoing through an ominously quiet park. Rollercoasters still coast through its loops as dead occupants rag doll through the twist and turns.

  He walks through the carnage, not knowing what to do. Who do you call for this? He sees a little girl and her mother on the ground, the mother on top of the girl trying to protect her. The heartfelt gesture was useless. But then he remembers.

  “Lane!”

  How could he forget? He was too dumbfounded by the carnage. He runs down the walkway, jumping over bodies, his track days finally paying off.

  He stops. Lane’s body lies in front of him. She’s not far from his stand. She tried to run but she wasn’t fast enough. There are no visible marks on her body. Her scream is frozen on her face. A face he’s never seen on her. Blood pours out her body.

  “No.” Tears spills from his eyes. They fall on her lifeless corpse.

  “No!”

  It’s all his fault. If he didn’t tell her to wait for him maybe she would’ve been able to get away. No. It’s all his fault.

  No!

  He’s not going to lie to himself, she would’ve been killed either way. But looking at her body, that doesn’t make the revelation any better.

  Sudden screams are heard from behind him. The lucky few who were inside have finally come out. A low booming sound is heard overhead. Noata just stands over Lane’s body. Ignoring the sound, the love of his life is
dead. It gets louder and louder. He finally looks up as a light shines down on top of him.

  Deconstruction - Pier

  Scattered explosions rock the night sky. Fireworks paint flowers in the stars. Thora lies upon Cole on a towel on the busy beach. Cole is dressed in business casual clothes and Thora is in a nice red dress.

  “I had a great time at dinner,” Cole says.

  “Thanks,” Thora replies.

  “Maybe I can try for president next or maybe…” He points up. “The world.” Cole has been moving up the work ladder pretty fast lately.

  He’s just been promoted again and Thora treated him with a nice night. With his money of course. But something feels slightly off. He looks at her, she seems muddled.

  “Hey what’s wrong?” he asks.

  Her face twitches.

  “Nothing,” She says just a little too fast. He always thought her twitch was cute. She always does it when a lot is on her mind, but he doesn’t like it tonight.

  “Thora— “

  She gets up.

  “Hey! You’re going to miss the main event!”

  She pulls him up.

  Thora stops at the edge of the pier. Cole stands next to her.

  “I like the view better from here. Sometimes you can see the stars,” Thora says staring up. There’s something wrong with her and it’s bothering Cole.

  “Thora…”

  “Shh— “ she says calmly. Cole leans against the railing and watches as more and more fireworks go off, building up to the big finish.

  Thora wraps her arms around him and leans her head against him. He does the same. He wants to know what’s wrong with her and he plans to find out.

  4 - They Came From the Sky

  It’s nighttime at Cole’s house; it has clean modern lines and angles made from an architect’s dream, with a green crisp yard and a back lawn that overlooks downtown LA. A beautiful sea of white fire lights up the horizon. It’s the true American dream, but that dream now seems lost on Cole.

  Inside his bedroom, he sits alone on his bed in a button up and slacks.

  Outside his room, upscale party guests fill the work-in-progress kitchen and living room to the walls. But the anxiety is finally getting the better of him. His room is a mess, furniture overturned, smoldering holes in the walls. It’s like a bomb went off. The once totalitarian room is now the exact opposite.

  Cole stares at his hands, he feels stronger than before. He squeezes them.

  “The more I use it—“ He trails off. His hands glow, he becomes entranced in the light as he peers into the cobalt blue haze.

  “The stronger I—“

  He’s getting stronger a lot faster than he expected. It gets brighter and brighter, illuminating the room.

  There’s a knock at the door. He powers down.

  “Hey! We can’t have a party without our guest of honor!” the guy yells.

  Cole looks down. He doesn’t have to do a damn thing anymore. Not with this power. He takes off his watch and looks under it. From a loving mother to a distant son, I love you and you will always be a perfect son to me. With this power he’s not going to let it happen again. It’s his fault she’s gone, his mother. So he just sits.

  The guy knocks again. Wait, what is he thinking? He sighs and closes his hands.

  What is he going to do? Kill them?

  Everybody came here to see him, that should make him feel a little bit better, but sadly it doesn’t. Maybe a little socializing will get him out of this rut but—

  He looks at his phone, five missed calls from Thora. He has to keep up appearances.

  “I’m coming!” he yells.

  Cole goes through the door. The masses swarm around him, each offering their congratulations and half felt tidings.

  None of this matters.

  All these people greet him just because he’s their boss now. He could just tell everybody to go home so he could do it again.

  Taste the power.

  When he uses it, he feels lighter, his mind is at ease, he feels…different, calm.

  Erin walks up.

  “Congrats Cole.”

  His negative thoughts melts away as they hug.

  “Thanks for coming.”

  He smells her perfume, not on purpose, it’s just that she just lays it on thick. She and Arnold are the only ones he really likes here or ever. Them, Thora and Julio.

  He looks around but Julio is nowhere to be seen. He’s always fashionably late. Maybe Cole should talk to Thora, but first he needs to get some inside information from her besty.

  “Have you talked to Thora?”

  “Hey! Arnold wants to talk to you!” Erin changes the subject; Cole looks ahead. Arnold is in the kitchen, loading up his plate, Cole looks back.

  Erin is gone.

  Clever.

  He sighs and goes over to Arnold. “Hey Arnold.”

  “Oh, hey, Cole! Congrats man!” Arnold replies.

  “Thanks, man.”

  Arnold loads on more food.

  “Aren’t you on a diet?”

  “You know that means you’re paying for lunch right?” Everybody is ignoring Cole today it seems.

  “I just started man, I’m not even settled in yet,”

  “I’m just sayin.”

  Cole looks back, Erin talks to someone in the distance.

  “Just a second.” Cole heads toward Erin. She notices him. She heads the other way, pushing her way through the crowd.

  She’s not going to avoid him in his own damn house.

  “Hey Erin—“ Cole tries to follow her. “Dammit Erin!”

  There’s a boom as the house shakes; Cole stops in his tracks.

  Then there’s silence. The house is very still as everyone looks around.

  “What was that?” One of them asks.

  Another boom, they look out the window. Nothing. It’s clear.

  “Everything seems fine,” Arnold claims. The door slams and everyone jumps.

  “Shit, I thought I could sneak in,” Julio says as he walks in.

  Fashionable.

  “Ugh, Julio,” Erin says.

  “You didn’t hear anything Julio?” Cole asks. Julio shakes his head.

  Everybody ducks as another one goes off, it’s a lot louder this time.

  “An earthquake?” A guest asks.

  “Turn on the news!” Arnold yells. Cole gets the remote and turns on the television, sound still ringing in his ears. He flips through the channels until he gets to the Channel 5 news.

  …

  In the busy streets of downtown LA in a news van, a New York news crew is on a television screen. It shows reporters in the streets of New York City speaking of giant decrepit stone angels that have appeared in the streets, blocking traffic.

  “What the hell is that?” Carissa asks. She leans in the vans open doors, dressed in a new dark grey suit dress. Her hair is puffed up.

  Carissa loves her job and would do anything for the story. She is the perfect image of an Emmy award winning news reporter.

  The cameraman messes with the display, the time pops up: 8:55 PM.

  “My buddy sent me this from New York, New York,” The camera man says. He’s called John, he has a Jersey accent even though he’s from Delaware.

  “Ergh, turn that off and let’s go, I have a party to get to.”

  At this party she might meet the potential love of her life, Julio. She’s interested in meeting him just from the stories she’s heard. Her first night as a reporter was a bust, nothing interesting happened. She thought something was going down with such a large military presence in the city. But there is always tomorrow.

  There’s a short, deafening screech as the sky flashes white like a lightning strike and then goes dark again. The ground shakes, a crash is heard and then screams.

  Carissa looks out the van, they’re in the busy streets of downtown LA.

  “What the hell was that!?” John yells.

  “A story!”

  A cloud
of smoke and dust willows out from a street only a block away. She runs toward it with her mic in hand.

  “Come on!” She yells at John.

  “Dammit wait!” He shouts while setting up the streaming connection. After he sets it up, he gets the camera and runs after her.

  People run out of the smoke, covered in dust, Carissa runs up to one of them.

  “What happened?”

  “It…It came from the sky…my car, oh god my car!” He stutters walking off in a stupor.

  “You get that?” She hollers behind her.

  John is fumbling a phone and a camera at the same time, he’s on the phone with the producers.

  “Yes—yes—Okay got it! Carissa we got two minutes, we need a headline!”

  Carissa suddenly rushes into the thicket.

  “Carissa!” John yells.

  The smoke starts to clear. In front of Carissa, a giant metallic two-story egg-like structure towers over her. Its shadow obstructs the moonlight as it blocks the street.

  Oh my god, she thinks.

  This is going to make her career.

  …

  The smoke has cleared, John has the lights and camera ready. Carissa finishes her lipstick and make up. Three police cars finally arrive.

  “Hurry the hell up woman!” John yells.

  She smacks her lips together. “Alright ready.”

  The structure behind her looks strangely threatening, there are no symbols on its smooth aluminum-like finish.

  “We’ll be live in five-four-three-two—“, he signals.

  “Welcome to Channel 5 Action News, this is Carissa Quoin and we’re the first with a breaking news story!” Perfect, but use a little less enthusiasm, this will make or break you.

  As she stands in front of the alien structure, John gets both her and the object. The police start to barricade off the object, but Carissa doesn’t move.

  “Approximately three minutes ago, this quiet downtown neighborhood just had its history changed forever, when this sphere fell from the sky and crushed an unknown number of cars under it,” she reports. “The police have barricaded off the area and have begun questioning witnesses, I believe they are as in the dark as much as we are. But we will be here all night and will return with eyewitness testimonies.” Good, kind of stilted and short but good.