In A Universe Without Stars 1: Skyeater

by J Alex McCarthy

  “Now my prayers were answered but you’re going to die instead, they’re going to take you away from me, the only star I have in my night sky. Why do you have to die instead of me?”

  Wilker takes a hard look at her and hugs her. He doesn’t let go. She sobs harder in his arms.

  “That’s selfish, sometimes people have to die for a better cause, and for you to live that’s a good enough cause for me. It’s going to be okay,” he whispers.

  “I don’t care if it’s selfish. No! It’s not going to be okay. I love you Thomas, I don’t want you to die…please don’t die…please don’t leave me,” she cries in his arms.

  After all she’s been through, she cares more about him than herself. She’s going to live but she doesn’t care if he’s not with her.

  “I’m not going to leave yo…You and I are going to leave our jobs and in the next three weeks I’m going to make every dream of yours come true. We’ll travel from the villas of Italy to the pyramids of Giza. I’ll give you the oceans…the skies…the moons…and the planets.” He starts to cry himself.

  He’s scared; he was always agnostic about God. But proof of Jahum means that death is the end, there is no God.

  He’s going to die.

  But as long as Isabel lives, as long as she survives, he doesn’t care.

  “Will you give me the stars?” she asks. How could he forget the stars? Wilker looks up, through the window and out into the sky through his tear studded eyes. “Yes, even the stars.”

  10 - Goodbye London

  Wilker and Isabel lie in bed, the moonlight paints their naked bodies. The alarm clock on the night stand says it’s after three, yet Wilker lies awake as Isabel sleeps on his chest wheezing in and out as she breathes. The necklace Jahum gave Wilker pulsates next to the alarm clock.

  It’s been two and a half weeks since they’ve met with Jahum. And within those weeks he’s had the best times of his life since his honeymoon all those years ago.

  They hiked the king’s trail of Sweden, waltzed through the villas of Italy and France, bought a boat and sailed the Mediterranean Sea. Hell they even went to see the stone hedges of Wiltshire.

  They nearly emptied out their bank accounts, especially when they decided to buy matching Aston Martins. If Jahum is wrong, then they will have nothing left. Maybe Jahum is really a travels salesman in disguise.

  It was well worth it.

  But for today, their past lives are gone. They have to finally deal with the reality of the situation, something Wilker’s been ignoring the last few weeks. In only a few days, the human race is coming to an end.

  And he’s going to die.

  He looks at the nightstand on the other side of the bed. There is a pile of bloody tissues on it. Isabel’s sickness is getting worse, they had to cut their escapade a few days short. She isn’t willing to get help.

  In only a few days, she’ll get saved and if not, what’s the point of getting help if the world is going to end anyway? She knows her chances of survival. Wilker’s is nil.

  “Thomas are you awake?” Isabel rasps. The rattle in her voice has a smoker’s vibe to it, as if she’s been smoking for decades. Maybe he shouldn’t have taken her hiking on that trail. It was her idea and she powered through it. Though it didn’t bode well for her condition. She only needs to last a few more days. He worries she won’t.

  She looks up at him.

  “Yes,” he replies.

  “We need to tell them, we need to tell the world what is coming… So they can have time…to reconcile, like we did. It’s only right that we give them that,” she whispers.

  Wilker looks out the window at the full moon peeking over the clouds.

  “Yes. You’re right. But you’ll have to be the one to set it up, nobody will listen to me anymore. Not that it matters.”

  “That’s fine… I’ll do it in the morning.” She falls back asleep.

  He should tell the world, it’s only right. He would want someone to do the same.

  …

  Isabel and Wilker drive down an outer London highway, heading towards the university. They are in Isabel’s new apple tree green Vanquish. Isabel drives.

  This all feels weird to Wilker, driving in this car, but the money needs to go somewhere. Money doesn’t follow you to the grave. He looks at his wife, her skin is pale and drained of her usual milky cream color, dark bags are under her eyes.

  He didn’t want her to drive, but she insisted, she loves to drive, always was the car nut when she was younger. Wilker can’t say no when it comes to his wife.

  But if her condition continues to deteriorate, then next time he’s going to have to be a little more than forceful to stop her. He looks at the clock. Only thirty-six hours until annihilation. How is he so calm when his death is only in a couple short days?

  “How do you think they will react?” Isabel asks.

  Wilker looks out the window and into the passing trees. “First… denial… Then fear, an utmost crippling fear. That everything they’ve known is wrong, that their gods are not real, that there is only blackness after death. And then panic and maybe even anger. It’s going to be chaos. The only ones to escape it will be the willingly bliss.”

  Isabel looks at her hands on the wheel. “Are we doing the right thing?”

  “Yes, they have a right to know, a right to prepare and say their goodbyes to their loved ones and make amends with their gods.”

  “I hope there are more people like us,” Isabel replies. “Those who take solace in the fact that we finally found out that we are not alone in this universe. It’s something to feel good about, that maybe, just maybe, our life is not all for nothing. It excites me on the unlimited possibilities and the answers of them… Even if we do die,” she says with a smile.

  “Most people are not like you,” Wilker says. “The questions to the answers we have sought scare us. We dream and lust for the answers and that’s the thrill of it, to journey to impossible places, to find ourselves during the search for the answers, not to find the answers themselves. When we have nothing else to chase for, when the answer is so black and white, so cut and clear, we only have ourselves to look back at and the emptiness and darkness of knowing that we are about to die. The fear we find nothing in it except death. Jahum coming to us and telling us we are not alone is greatly overpowered by him telling us we’re all going to die in only a few days’ time.”

  The light goes out of Isabel’s eyes. “Then why tell the world? If it’s for nothing, why go through all this effort, when in the end it really doesn’t matter?”

  “I don’t believe in ignorant blissfulness. As long as you’re happy I’m fine.”

  “Well…” She looks at him and smiles.

  “I—“

  She seizes up, her foot jams on the gas. Her body stiffens, her eyes fling open.

  “Isabel!” Wilker yells.

  She’s having a seizure.

  They zoom into traffic. He grabs at the wheel but her hand clutches it like hard concrete.

  “Isabel!!” He yells again. He doesn’t know what to do. The 500 plus horsepower roars them straight towards a pole. He finally tears her hands from the wheel and jerks it to the left.

  The car spins and flips as they hit the pole.

  Blood blurs his vision. He lies on the street. Ahead of him sits only the front half of the car. It was split in half when the pole hit his side. Sirens wail off in the distance.

  The driver seat is still in the front half, Isabel still buckled in. Blood runs down her face. The sirens comes closer.

  “Isabel!!” Wilker screams. The sirens drown out Wilker’s screams. Isabel’s motionless body slumps in her seat.

  …

  Twenty-four hours later.

  Wilker stands in a hospital room, over his wife in a bed. Eyes closed, sleeping like a newborn, she is in a medically induced coma. He has defeat on his face. He looks at his left hand; he wears a small brace.

  Somehow he only got a sprain after being throw
n from the car. He would’ve called it a miracle, if he believed in them. He’s never believed in miracles and never will.

  He just stares at her, all he has in his life lies motionless on that bed.

  “Two days…” a voice mutters. It’s muffled.

  He drowns out the noise. The only thing that matters to him is her.

  “Mr. Wilker…” the voice says.

  All his wittiness, all his humor, it was a façade. The only reason he was able to keep it up was because of her. His personality was never a lie; it was just without something, his wife or even his life. It’s pointless.

  “Mr. Wilker!” the voice demands sharply. Wilker snaps up, he looks to the right. Her doctor stands at her bedside.

  “Did you hear what I said?” the doctor asks. “No…I…” He pauses. He prepared for this, mentally, but he didn’t expect it so suddenly.

  The doctor looks at him and sighs. “She might not make it into tomorrow, her tumor has spread from her lungs to her spine. Causing her to have her seizure. It was only a matter of time really.” He looks at his clipboard. “Why didn’t she come sooner, it didn’t need to spread so far, if she would’ve gotten help. She should’ve known better.”

  Isabel is one of the smartest people in the world, when Wilker first met her he was daunted by her, by the illusion of her intelligence, by how much better she was than himself.

  But then he found out she was just like him, a normal human being. She was smart, but still human, with human emotions and empathy. Others would just see her as something she isn’t. Like this doctor.

  Wilker can’t muster up the effort to argue. “She didn’t want to. She just wanted to live life in her last moments. That’s the end of it,” Wilker states. The doctor rambles on but it falls on deaf ears.

  Wilker just looks at his wife’s sleeping body, the world passing by.

  An hour later, Wilker still stands there. The doctor has gone. Many people have come and gone, friends, family, admirers, saying their final goodbyes, only giving him a few choice words. There is some irony in it. She was a nice girl, everybody liked her. She had many friends.

  But to Wilker, they’re just a blur in his mind.

  “You were right.” Matthews stands next to him. “Your simulation. The stars are disappearing. Your senseless rumbling bullshit was actually right for once.” He runs his hands through his hair.

  “Where is Alexander, why didn’t he tell me this himself?” Wilker asks.

  “He packed up and left the city with his family. He passed on your findings to the university. Whatever is making the stars disappear is coming our way, it will hit in a couple months. We are going to do a few more reviews before taking it to the government.”

  Wilker doesn’t answer.

  “That’s what her meeting was going to be about wasn’t it? That your simulation was right. To think that you would once again ridicule us by going behind our backs again,” Matthews says.

  “No,” Wilker says softly. He doesn’t have the energy to yell at Matthews. “I suggest you do the same as Alex and leave with your family at once. We were going to announce the end of the world. Whatever is coming is going to hit tomorrow in the morning. Nobody will survive it.”

  “What? That’s preposterous! What is ‘it’?” he demands.

  “Matthews, you always were an asshole, I would like it if you weren’t here any longer,” Wilker says.

  “What are you saying? I have a right to be here, she is a colleague and a friend.”

  “Fuck off.”

  “I’m not—“

  “Leave!” Wilker yells. Matthew sighs, slamming the door behind him. He probably didn’t believe him but Wilker doesn’t care. He walks to her bedside and sits in the reclining seat next to her. He’s tired. He wants to rest his eyes for just a few minutes, but as he closes his eyes darkness overcomes him.

  …

  Wilker jerks awake; he’s still in the chair next to his wife. He moves his arms to stretch, his body creaks and aches. He peeks out of the curtains, it’s still night. He checks his watch, 3:45 AM.

  “Shit!” He slept through the night. What to do? He needs to go see Jahum but his car is at home. Getting a taxi home and then driving over to the meet point will take too long.

  He looks at Isabel. He has no choice, it’s the only way to save her. He grabs his coat and kisses Isabel on the forehead. In only a few hours, Jahum can finally save her.

  …

  The Vanquish skids to a stop. Wilker looks at the time in the car. He’s 42 minutes late. He stopped on the road right next to the woods. He gets out and runs into the trees.

  Wilker bursts through the clearing, covered in dirt and bruises. He puts his hands on his knees and pants, breath frosting the air in front of him. He ran the whole way.

  “Jahum!” he yells.

  “Jahum! Are you here!?” he shouts.

  “JAHUM!!!” he yells his lungs out. He falls to his knees, he’s too late. Nothing musters around him. No insects, no wind, not even a single bird in the sky.

  “Yes,” Jahum says. Jahum walks through the clearing behind him. Wilker came from that way. He must have just arrived.

  “Please…save her…” Wilker asks. He gets on his knees like a coward. Jahum doesn’t ask why nor what happened to her.

  “I cannot.”

  “Why!? You claim to be all powerful but you can’t even do this one thing. You said she is needed to save humanity and you’re going to let her die!”

  “NO...No,” Jahum yells. The outburst scared Wilker. Jahum closes his eyes, as if to calm himself.

  “I will give the power to you and you can transfer the power over to her. With it she will be saved,” Jahum says.

  “Please just come with me to help her, I beg of you,” Wilker pleads.

  “I…Wish I could. Accept this power now or don’t accept it at all,” Jahum says.

  He can save her, but with the invasion only an hour away Wilker doesn’t know if he can make it, this is his only chance.

  “Okay,” Wilker says. Jahum raises his hand.

  “Ring.”

  Wilker looks at his hand and pulls off his wedding ring. He hands it to Jahum. Jahum closes his hand.

  “Your power will be different than the other chosen. Theirs will be of strength and might, yours, yours will be of ultimate understanding. All things that once confused you will make sense and the inner workings of things you simply glimpse at will be understood.”

  “An understanding of everything? Wouldn’t that make me go mad?”

  “No. It will be simple to you. Because something so simple can also be complex. A orange for instance as a whole is made up from millions of things, from the skin to the flesh of the seeds, from the seeds made up of millions of cells which consist of membranes, proteins, cytoplasm, nucleuses, lipids, to the very atoms that it consist of, which even in its simplest parts are made from electrons, protons and neutrons and quarks and leptons that make them up. Billions of them make up a single cell with the millions that make up an orange.”

  “I already know what an orange is made of, I know of the atoms and the cells and what they’re made out of,” Wilker says.

  “Do you? Do you think of them when you see the orange, do you simply know what makes it without thinking, knowing how to deconstruct it and construct it back without a thought?” Jahum asks. Wilker doesn’t answer. He doesn’t understand.

  “So complex and yet all the matter is the same, dust from the stars, all energy and matter from one and the same, they just exist in different forms. The orange is like you and I. Different but the same at the same time. Everything simple is complex and everything complex is simple. That’s the power of understanding and everything in-between. That will be your power. You will become as powerful as your comrades but this is your path,” Jahum says.

  Ultimate understanding. Isabel is going to love that. Jahum opens his hand. The ring looks the same and he didn’t see Jahum do anything.

  “Take it and p
ut it on,” he says.

  Wilker takes it and slides it on. He feels a sudden surge power through him. Coursing through his veins, all his aches and sores melt away. His left wrist suddenly feels stronger. He snaps off the cast and looks at his arm. His wrist is completely healed.

  He already feels ten times stronger than he did before and this is the lowest tier of power. Jahum holds out his hand, offering a blue crystal.

  “With this you can transfer your power over to her,” Jahum says. Wilker grabs it.

  “At this point in time your world government knows of the impending threat. I will pick you and Isabel up when you transfer the power. Make haste because they are coming soon.”

  “Who? Who is coming?” Wilker asks after all this time. Jahum never told him who was attacking.

  “The Eliite.”

  …

  The Vanquishes wheels skirt across the ground as Wilker flatlines the car. London peeks over the horizon as he speeds along the road.

  “Come on faster!” Wilker yells.

  He passes 193 Km/h or 120 mph. The roads are empty on this wet brisk morning. He’s easily able to keep the car under control. Classic British engineering. He looks at his clock.

  Seven o’clock.

  The sky flashes the whitest of whites as if God himself has lit the heavens. Wilker looks through his windshield. Twenty gigantic ships appear in the sky passing through the white like whales erupting from a wave less ocean.

  The Eliite. Faire class ships.

  Are they coming from another dimension? Or from somewhere in outer space? Wilker’s pondering goes unanswered as a loud screech pierces the air. He slams on the brakes. The dark red ships are shaped like shooting stars from a child’s book.

  Five points, four of them wings of the same size. The four of them angle back on a forty-five degree angle. It’s blood red color contrasting against the white sky. Looking closer it seems the wings aren’t actually connected but are held together only inches from the hull by some invisible force. The back two wings are made up of two parts each, like two halves of a triangle. Each part hovers only an inch from each other held by another invisible force. Each connection controlling the pitch and yaw as the ships move.