Jahum’s apology seems genuine.
“Come join us to save your world.” Jahum lifts his hand. Wilker doesn’t take it.
“No, how can you chose who lives or who dies? Who decided to give you that power! You don’t have the right to change my fate or any others! You DON’T have that right!” Wilker screams.
“I know, I don’t have that right. But I do have the right to preserve my species and life in the universe.”
Wilker looks past Jahum and his ship and out into the burning remains of London, his town, his life. He then looks at his resting wife. The ash from outside coats her body. A fitting burial, for the end of the world. He clenches his fist.
“I will join your battle, but I am not one of you, I will do everything in my power to deny you and I will change the way you and the others think, I will bring you down for this.”
“I would expect you too,” Jahum replies. It’s as if he expected Wilker’s answer. Wilker walks to Jahum, and Jahum turns. They disappear in a flash of light. Jahum’s ship hovers away from the hospital and shoots off into the sky. A smoking London is left in its wake.
Goodbye London.
11 – Before the Storm
Noata sits in a launch ship, shaking in his seat. It’s the same boy from Six Flags, the same boy who lost his girlfriend and watched his coworkers die. Serena sits across from him, Wilker next to her, he has a snarl.
Serena notices how fidgety Noata is.
“Hey, what’s your name?”
He looks at her and looks down. “Noata.”
“If we stick together everything will be fine.”
“Why are you introducing yourself? When we are all going to die soon,” Wilker puts in.
Serena rolls her eyes, this isn’t the first time she heard this.
“God! Shut the fuck up, Wilker,” Serena says.
“You cannot deny how bad our odds are. We are the handicaps. We are going to die.”
“Jahum said we had a chance, you need to shut up.”
“Boy—I mean, Noata, do you know why we are with the defense team?” Wilker asks.
Noata looks at him, he doesn’t want to join in. He wants to be left alone. “No.”
“It’s because you’re like me, you were raised to use your brain. That’s our power, the power to understand, we are not fighters. That’s why we were relegated to defend. I don’t know why she is with us,” Wilker says pointing to Serena.
“I have a masters in psychology.”
“You have a degree in nothing.”
“I really don’t want to be a part of whatever argument you guys are having,” Noata says.
“You don’t understand why I’m including you, we are not ready for this. We cannot fight them. Only fifty of the chosen can fight, they have the power too, the rest of us are useless. If we learn to use our powers we can, but most if not all of us won’t learn in time. I’m the only one in this group who knows how to use my powers but even then I don’t think we can win.”
“Nobody asked you,” Serena says.
“I’m just trying to add a dose of bloody reality to the situation.”
“So…I’m like you? How do you know all of this?”
“Yes, you have the power to understand. It’s hard to describe and damn near impossible to teach, and I’m sure that bastard Jahum didn’t fully explain it. I was the first one to be given our powers. Which is the only reason I’m just now starting to understand them. The others aren’t as lucky.”
Noata looks at the other two on their squad. They have their head down. Noata looks at Wilker. He sighs, it seems like he’s taking out his anger on them. They’re all in the same boat, some people just take it differently.
Wilker places his hand on the projection in the middle.
“Well, if you do decide to fight, we should figure out what we are going against.”
The map changes and displays a grunt.
Lance looks out of one of the slots in the launch ship, staring out at nothing. Julio messes with the display in the middle, projecting all the enemy types the Eliite have in their army. He switches through the views.
“Alright, let me see if I’ve memorized them, so there are grunts, which I fought in LA. Angels, which you encountered in NYC. Damons, which are generals of a sort. Alphas, which just look like smaller grunts. Faires, their battleships, and then Peons, those fly looking motherfuckers. Is that all?” Julio asks, counting on his fingers.
“Great, my friend but you forgot the Cell, it’s—“
Jahum comes on an overhead speaker.
“We hope you have had time to look over the information we’ve provided for you, if not we’re sorry, but we must now brief you on your individual objectives.”
The display in the middle changes into a map of Washington, D.C. A circle appears in the middle of it, encasing a couple miles on the map.
“The main battle will take place in the center of the city, the extreme north, south, east and west points of the city are safe zones for the civilians.”
The extreme points of the map glow green.
“The safe zones won’t be their main targets but that won’t stop them from being attacked.”
The map zooms out and shows the outer city limits. A red line outlines the city.
“The outskirts of the city are off limits, if you attempt to leave you will die. The Eliite wants to and will keep this battle as contained as possible.”
Julio knew this battle was coming, he’s tried to steel his mind for this and for a second there he did, but hearing the intricate details is taking him back. He can fight, he can do this, hell, he thinks he wants to do this, and he’s not alone this time. He has Lance, who seems like he can hold his own. The others he figures will die as soon as they step off the ship seeing how silent and reserved they are right now.
“We split the chosen into two groups, the first group is going to protect the safe zones and the others are the attack groups, an active unit to suppress and subdue the enemy during the ever changing currents of the battle.”
The sides of their seats pop open. Guns slide out.
“You’re an attack group. This is your long range weapon. For short range you can use the abilities we showed you.”
Julio grabs his gun. It looks like a gun straight from a video game. It’s twice as big as a standard army issued M4 and has two triggers.
“It has two attack modes, a regular round that can pierce the Serephins skin and destroy a human-made tank.”
Julio looks over the gun, it’s been a while since he held one. “And a special round which can incapacitate and destroy a Faire frigate ship and smaller vehicles.”
Julio looks at the second trigger.
“Damn,” he says. Lance next to him awkwardly holds his.
Julio tries to steel himself again, he fears nothing, he will win. He’s done it once before in LA and has seen Cole do even more. Who cares if there will be ten times as many more enemies in an area so small it can fit into Los Angeles eight times over?
He doesn’t and he can’t.
It’s now or never.
“Your objective is simple, to protect your world and annihilate anyone who will get in your way. This isn’t a time for hiding or intricate strategy, this is a total war. The only way this will end is by total eradication of humanity or the Eliite.” The speaker turns off. The chosen are left in silence to their thoughts.
…
Thora throws her bag on a pile of bags on a dinky hotel bed. Thora and Arnold pack up the small hotel room. Arnold has Neil in a baby holder on his chest. Jahum was able to save them both, the marvel of their technology.
But this is how far he was able to go.
This hotel room.
“Is that everything? We’re going to be late,” Thora asks. Arnold looks around, the liveliness he once had in his face is gone.
“Seems like it,” Arnold says in a monotone voice.
Arnold and Thora walk out of the hotel, carrying their things.
It’s a dark cloudy day over D.C.
A school bus awaits for them. A line builds from its door with soldiers guarding them. They walk up to the line. They’re last.
Just a few minutes later they’re on the bus. It’s filled with other civilians: little kids sitting on parents’ laps, over-stuffed bags shoved under the seats. They are all going to their new home, a safe house in the north part of the city.
The military assured them they would be safe but from the atmosphere in the bus, the people don’t believe them. Thora looks to the back, the only seats remaining are there.
The bus drives through the streets of Washington. The streets look odd, they’re filled with military personal, American and foreign. SAM sites are set on rooftops, sandbags and bases are being set in plazas and apartments. American and foreign soldiers working together in their own uniforms. A mix of greens, greys, tans, navies and blues. The world is finally united.
Thora looks out the window of the bus and up into the gray dreary sky. A squad of jets and helicopters pass overhead. It’s eerily quiet, the thumps of the propellers and the blast of the engines only marginally breaks the calm.
…
The president sits at his desk, staring out the window. There is something in the background, yelling and screaming.
Something important, but as he stares into the sky, almost nothing can break the quietness.
The calm.
It’s almost scary how calm he is when his world is at war. The quietness of a thoughtful leader, the calmness of a powerful speaker.
This is what he wants.
He is lucky though that he doesn’t have a wife nor kids. He was elected despite that fact, just based on how good of a politician he was. His opponents fought him over it though, saying how could he be a good president if he didn’t have a wife to go back home to, to ground him? He’s the first bachelor president since Buchanan. He thought about settling down with a wife and kids after his term but he thinks it’s too late for that.
The window flickers. His calm is broken. He turns around, he’s in the emergency underground operations center, standing in a fake oval office. The window is a fake projection of the sky. A desk is in front of him and the national security advisor and secretary of defense talk. Behind them is the command room, filled with generals and officials of varying statuses bustling around preparing for battle.
The fake oval office gives an illusion of stability, if the president is safe in his office giving a speech to the world then the United States government still has some kind of control.
The vice president walks up. “Our generals now have full control of the world’s military sir,” the vice president says.
“Good. I still can’t believe they gave us full control. The world’s nations are willing to do anything in a time of need,” the president replies.
“There are no more nations, all our allies are wiped out and the soldiers we got are only sailors with nowhere else to go,” the secretary of defense says.
“We’re the only country left with a standing government. Once the Eliite hit we didn’t even have time to come up with a strategy or issue the orders to move soldiers around. We lost contact with every single one of our allies.” the secretary pulls out a handkerchief and wipes his forehead of sweat.
“With Russia and China gone and the UN forcibly disbanded, the only forces we have left are the ones who were far enough away from major cities to survive,” the secretary of defense finishes.
“Those who moved their forces fast enough anyway, they wouldn’t have made it in time if blood wasn’t already spilt on our shores with the six flags incident, reports say that most of their soldiers were in ships on the border of their seas waiting on the orders. May I remind you that we lost contact with the rest of our nation as well,” the National Security advisor reminds.
“It still might not be enough. Any updates on our nuclear situation?” the vice president asks. The president just watches them. He’s thinking of what to say, he has to be the one to lead the world out of this. Until then he’ll watch them squabble.
“Our nukes and most of our satellites are disabled, the few we have left are being used for military communication,” the secretary of defense says.
“We still have those so called weapons or soldiers or whatever from the Astrons,” the vice president replies.
“I still can’t believe you’re considering siding with them after we got attacked and are still getting attacked by their kind,” the secretary of defense says.
“We have no choice,” The President says, he finally had some input.
“Of course we have a damned choice, we can take them out right here and right now!” the secretary of defense yells. The president has said his piece, now to see how the others will respond.
“We have to side with one of them and I’d rather chose the one who aren’t trying to fuck us,” the national security adviser says.
“We already accepted their altered munitions, it’s too late to bring up your point now, secretary,” the vice president says.
The president turns toward the secretary of defense. “Alert our forces of our new allies, give every chosen the rank of lieutenant colonel with the power to command our units and tell them to not get in their way.”
The secretary looks shocked.
“Ever since yesterday this world has become a very different place, different for the worse or maybe even for the better. Don’t let your prejudices hold you back, for our neighbors aren’t just the ones who are closest to us now, secretary, but are the ones in the stars above us. This is a new frontier,” the president says.
The officials in front of him are stunned.
“Well?” the president asks.
“Yes. Mr. President,” the secretary of defense says. He leaves to do his part. The rest leave without saying a world.
The president turns and looks back outside into the fake sky for what he presumes is the last time. He’s hoping for a new better world after this but he’s not a fool. Humanity might not come back after this.
…
Julio’s launch ship flies over the Potomac River. It is red, the color of blood.
It lands in an air field close to the edge of the city. The bay side door opens up. Julio is the first one out. He takes a deep breath in, he’s ready for anything. The rest leave the ship.
“I guess now we wait,” he says.
12 - Ascent and a Legacy
Cole walks down the Astron ships cold dark hallway. It’s sad to see how far they’ve fallen. At the end of the hallway is a single door where his ascent will begin. He continues down.
The cleanliness and bleakness of the place is getting to him. Is he going to see things differently when he ascends? His hands glide across the gray concrete like walls. The rough edge scrapes against his skin. Is he going to feel, smell, and see things differently?
Will he really be himself when he becomes a god?
In a small way, he wants to change, he wants to leave his past behind him with all his mistakes. He wants to escape the fear of his failure and his fear of inevitability. He makes it to the door. He stops in front of it, hesitating.
He has to change in order to become a god, but into what?
Into the power to change.
The reality of it scares him. But if he doesn’t change the world will end. He lifts his hand, the door opens sideways. He walks in.
The room is completely white. Cole shields his eyes from the brightness, he lowers his hands as his eyes adjust. The room is so white he can’t see where the walls and floor meet. It looks endless, maybe it is, perhaps this is what complete nothingness looks like.
All six remaining Astrons stand in what Cole reckons is the middle of the room. With them standing this close together, Cole notices just how similar there are. Jahum stands in the middle of them.
Cole slowly walks forward. This is it, it doesn’t matter if he’s scared or not, this is where those feelings have to end.
�
�To ascend we must destroy. To become a god we must rebuild,” Jahum says. His voice booms, it echoes throughout the endless room. The Astrons next to him are silent, they all stare at Cole.
“In death, there is rebirth, into something better, something that will light the vastness of space as a radiant beacon.”
“To ascend, to become a god, we must destroy your psyche and rebuild a superior one.” Jahum walks toward him.
“We must dive into your memories, swim through your regrets and pull out what makes you…you, and mold it into something stronger, into something superior, into a god. For to ascend is to become one with the universe and one with your humanity.”
Jahum starts to walk around Cole in a circle. Cole’s already made up his mind, there is no turning back now.
“You will be one with the stars and one with nothing. You must come to terms with all your fears and regrets. It will be harsh and it will be painful. Once the process starts, there is no return to your former self, failure or not. You must finish it.” He stops circling and stares directly into Cole’s eyes.
“If you fail, your mind will be splattered across the stars and it will take eons for it to rebuild itself and in some instances you can lose yourself forever and cease to live.”
Cole starts to sweat.
It’s this or nothing. He keeps telling himself that.
“But don’t fear the end, Death is never the end, your mind will become one with the universe once again, but your psyche and conscience will end. In success you will become one with the stars and stay one with your humanity.”
So it’s not all bad. If he fails he finally can sleep forever, but once again he will lose himself. It’s what he’s always wanted but it doesn’t feel right.
“Will you still continue?” all of the Astrons ask.
“Yes.”
“Good,” Jahum says. The Astrons encircle him. There is a slight humming sound, they all start to glow blue except for Jahum.
In A Universe Without Stars 1: Skyeater Page 14