Doomsday Minus One

by Andrew Dorn

  The Seeder was but a fragment, the only one remaining, of the Zeru. It had, in the endless eons of its Life, seeded countless worlds across the immense Universe. Yet, it had come to be, over time immemorial, the sole surviving intelligence. All the life-forms it had seeded, pulled upwards out of the muck of non-sentience, had died out one after the other. Was their technique at fault or was it, rather, their extreme discipline, their super ordained way of conceiving Life? They observed with dispassionate curiosity as promising life-forms annihilated themselves in savage interstellar wars. They stood by, remote, while their living heritage succumbed to deadly cosmic forces from which even their stars could not escape; and others, still, atomized themselves while meddling with backyard supernovae.

  They analyzed and counter-analyzed all the extinctions, all the annihilations, all the failures but the results only accentuated their own failings. The Zeru had the cosmos to themselves but their immortal shoulders bore the burden of being the one and only Life. Eons gave way to deafening cosmic silence as the galaxies and solar systems remained mute, the life within them smothered by the inevitability of Time. Inevitably, the Zeru themselves turned Time into an enemy as they tampered with the fabric of the Universe. Grand experiments intended to spur the dispersal of Life crashed and folded and yet they endured and continued, doggedly refusing to capitulate. But came the time when they realized they had failed.

  As consciousness.

  As creators.

  There was a fundamental flaw within themselves that could not be accomplished with the ways of the past. The former methods needed to be rethought and disregarded. They had to start over once again. They had to nullify what they were, what they had become. Maybe then, they would find the evasive and unknown element which had eluded them.

  And so the Super-intelligence, in one cataclysmic transformative event, scattered itself throughout the universe in an ultimate attempt at salvation. The nanosized particles of the Zeru drifted down to the surfaces of innumerable celestial bodies in a final effort to free themselves. They landed unto fiery hot balls of magma or icy airless moons, doomed comets and irradiated planetoids; gaseous giants and liquid worlds, and smaller rocky planets. There they waited for that imponderable element to manifest itself, to signal the new beginning.

  The super-intelligence went to sleep.

  And started its long wait.

  Simon withdrew his hand from the Seeder’s outer skin.

  My God!

  He looked fixedly at the hushed object at his side.

  The Soul.

  It was the soul that did it.

  He was certain of it. It wasn’t a belief or a hypothesis; it was a certitude. Throughout his time spent interacting with the Zeru’s memories, he had perceived their primeval drive to explore, to disseminate, to create, to be. Their existence had eventually played itself out, over the vast abyss of Time itself, and they remained, essentially, unfulfilled.

  The Human soul was the catalyst for their revival.

  His own, Emmeline’s, Frank’s... they had been the ones who had awakened the last fragment of the Zeru, the Seeder, as it lay dormant in the cavern. He did not understand how, or why, it had come about, though in time he knew they would find out.

  There was a flash of glorious light.

  He retreated backwards, out of the way, as the Seeder disintegrated into a cloud of nanoparticles.

  It had always been Life.

  And now Life had created It.

  The circle was complete. It was free to journey once more across the endless Cosmos, free to create Life once again.

  But this time It had harmony.

  A soul of Its own.

  Simon watched the Seeder fade out of sight, the brilliant light shrinking down into an infinitesimal pinpoint of light, then even smaller still, before disappearing altogether. Then, as if it had merely been a vision, he found himself staring at empty air, alone in the great cavern.

  53 Rescue

  ANNA’S BODY FELT lighter than it should, thought Frank Curtis, as he and Gwen took her inside the cabin of the downed airship. Inside the wreckage, they found another person in dire need of medical attention: Declan Penney, the co-pilot. Working in tandem, they started treating the two with the medicines they had on hand and within the best of their abilities.

  But Penney was in critical condition.

  Gwen was horrified. He had been struck in the chest, another victim of Roy’s fallacy. She wrapped his wound with the few bandages she had on hand, doing her utmost to clamp the flow of blood. His breathing was faltering even as she worked, a dreadful whistling in the quiet of the cabin. Gwen looked across to Frank and shook her head.

  “He’s not going to make it.”

  Only his youth, and healthy physique, had enabled him to stay alive, to keep death at bay. But even his perfect health couldn’t patch the damage caused by an arrow. You needed surgery for that.

  Or a miracle.

  The walls of the cabin shook as outside a low thumping noise could be heard, closing in from afar. Frank glanced at Gwen who returned his gaze with a broad grin. An instant later, the ear-splitting beating of an army helicopter flying overhead resounded like a thunderclap across the barren land. Frank sprang to his feet and rushed outside, gesticulating with wild abandon as he raced across the petrified surface. Gwen came out next to him and the two waved their arms in wild arcs, a tag team working in unison under the gray clouds.

  The chopper veered and turned back, dropping in altitude.

  “It’s the army!” Gwen exclaimed, her voice full of hope.

  “It sure is, Miss Rutledge. It sure is,” Frank replied with a big smile.

  It must have been the exhaustion, or maybe the elation of being rescued, but as Frank Curtis hugged her with tears flowing down his cheeks, Gwen realized the deep-seated pain inside her had quietly gone away.

  54 New Dawn

  THE SILHOUETTE MOVING in the distance, adroitly sidestepping broken stalagmites over a sea of shattered boulders, was one Simon would recognize from any other on Earth.

  “Emmeline!”

  Heart pounding, he hurried forward, oblivious to the obstacles blocking his way. It was incredible but there it was. A miracle. She had made it. Even from afar, Simon could make out the joy in her eyes. He was moved by the same euphoria, a blend of exhaustion mixed in with a dash of wonderment for good measure. They had been through a lot, yet here they were, safe and sound. He took one last step and Emmeline rushed into his arms. Their bodies quivered in unison as a flood of emotions washed over them. There was an infinitesimal hesitation before their lips touched and the kiss they shared became a passionate embrace; a celebration of love... and life.

  “I thought I’d never see you again,” Simon whispered in her ear.

  “So did I.”

  Emmeline turned her head around and took in the desolate cavern.

  “What happened?”

  Simon grinned, eyes filled with awe. “You’ll never believe me.”

  “Try me,” Emmeline said, returning the smile.

  “I will,” Simon said. “But first, why don’t we get out of here. I’m famished.”

  “Great idea, you still owe me that dinner.”

  “That’s true,” Simon said with a short nod. “And I can’t wait to pay you back,” he finished with a side glance at her fit figure.

  “Why you geologists are all the same,” Emmeline said with faux haughtiness. “Only thinking of one thing.”

  “And that is?”

  “Probing hard-to-reach depths,” she deadpanned.

  Simon’s smile grew wide, then even wider before he finally burst with explosive laughter, his roar echoing deep across the grotto.

  “Come on,” Emmeline said picking up the pace as she took his hand. “Let’s get out of here.”

  The pull of getting back to the surface soon became an irresistible objective and although they were both dead on their feet, they sped up the cadence. They plunged onward, along the tortuous
passageways of the Seeder’s labyrinthine lair, all vestiges of the sludge’s influence erased from reality, as if it had only been a dream.

  Everywhere they looked, the evidence of the sludge’s retreat was unmistakable.

  Each step they took was a confirmation of the Zeru’s departure.

  They kept pushing forward, ignoring the grievances from overused muscle groups, their focus on getting to the surface.

  At last they saw a sliver of glorious sunlight streaming inside the far end of the passageway, the last one before the open air. Emmeline let out a short cry of triumph. Dawn’s beautiful and warm glow bathed and enveloped her as she stepped out of the shadows and as Simon watched from behind, she appeared to be one with the brilliant sun.

  They emerged in the dead center of the vast pit, sharply lit by the radiant light. They filled their lungs with the cool brisk air of a Northern Maine morning, a benediction after all those hours of stifling heat and stale air.

  All around them, the zone of goo-blanketed land was returning to its original state. Green was coming back, chasing off the colorless remains of the Seeder’s experiment. The sun bore down unto a renewed ecosystem, burning away whatever shadowy traces of the sludge remained, as it had done so for billions of years.

  Simon observed the magnificence of nature, hope rekindling in his heart.

  The yellow sun, the blue sky, the white clouds, the birds wheeling high overhead. It was a splendid sight, one he had nearly forgotten. The Zeru never had the chance to experience what he was feeling right at the moment. The profound sensation of being alive, in symbiosis; in total harmony with you inner self, with Nature, with Life itself. It was impossible to catalog, to rationalize, to engrave in data banks. It was an experience akin to enlightenment, one only an organism with a soul could understand, respect... and love.

  Simon turned to Emmeline. “Perfect morning for a mug of freshly brewed coffee.”

  “You mean a cup of tea,” she replied with a sly smile.

  Simon chuckled. “Geez, I had forgotten about that bad habit of yours.”

  “Bad habit?” Emmeline’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t you know tea’s got a long and fascinating 5,000-year history while this coffee of yours has only been around since the 800’s.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, and you better learn to make a good one. Earl Grey, of course.”

  Simon drew her closer. “Whatever you say.” This time there was no hesitation as their lips met.

  They stood close to one another, like stranded survivors on a desert island. The sinkhole was awash in sunlight, the light golden and pleasant. The pit’s upper rim was defined against the blue sky, like a line traced by a giant’s finger.

  On the edge of the rim was a group of men and women dressed, unmistakably, in military fatigues.

  One figure, the tallest and most commanding, waved in their direction.

  With a grin to Emmeline, Simon held up his arm and waved back.

  55 Epilogue

  DOOMSDAY PLUS TWENTY-ONE.

  “... And he is for sure talking with angels, charming them with stories of epic flights over the jungles and cities of the world,” Declan Penney’s voice echoed across the room, the words hanging in the air for all to absorb in respectful silence. “He will be missed by all those who crossed paths with him, who shared his life. Goodbye my friend and have a safe flight. Godspeed.”

  There was a quiet murmur as everyone rose from their chairs and exited the hall. Captain Phil Ballard’s ceremony had been in the image of the man: touching, eloquent and so very human.

  Once outside, there were more handshakes and hugs as friends and family milled about, huddling together in the brisk wind blowing from Lake Erie. Simon observed the proceedings with admiration and respect. Declan Penney had insisted on attending despite his recent release from hospital. Though he was still wheelchair bound, he had spoken eloquently of his friend, of his mentor, of the man who had given his life for the well-being of others. Everyone in attendance in the packed room had been deeply touched by his eulogy, delivered with emotion and poise. Anna Curtis, Declan’s de facto assistant, wheeled him from one person to the next, the cast on her arm inconspicuous under her black dress. The love in their eyes was a beautiful thing to behold, everyone agreeing they made a perfect couple.

  Frank and Gwen Rutledge were tied up in conversations with Gerry and Arturo along with Major Redding standing close by, a head above the group. Phil Ballard had been dubbed ‘A True Hero’ by Redding and Simon couldn’t agree more after learning of his actions.

  The small crowd began to disperse, the LTI staff agreeing to go to dinner later in the evening at the hotel’s stylish restaurant.

  Simon and Emmeline found themselves alone and opted to walk out to a park, a stone’s throw away from the icy waters of Lake Erie. This was their first time in Cleveland, Phil Ballard’s hometown, and they were pleased to discover the city. Simon found a bench underneath a row of tall birch trees swaying with elegance in the breeze. Overhead, seagulls dove along the shoreline, their calls piercing the serene tranquility of the setting.

  It had been hectic days for everyone involved in what came to be known as ‘The Maine Event’, a cheap play of words that had appeared out of nowhere but had stuck, nonetheless. The fact the so-called event had been much more than a mining incident was lost to most people and even though it made headline news for three days, the event quickly faded from social scrutiny as news reports began circulating about a deadly virus spreading like wildfire in the Shenandoah Mountains.

  Simon didn’t mind one bit the change in exposure. The hoopla had taken its toll and had been worse than anticipated. First, there had been the interminable Army debriefs which in reality were more like prolonged interrogation sessions. Adjutant General Walton Welles personally oversaw each sitting, insisting on getting all the information he could recall from his overwrought brain.

  Wary from the start, he had decided never to speak about the Zeru. He reasoned his encounter with the Intelligence from the Stars had more in common with a dream than an actual, direct, contact. There had been no handshake between species, so to speak. His connection with the Zeru had been essentially a metaphysical affair, and he catalogued it a private conversation, with no transcripts available. Some of what he experienced still felt like it pertained to the realms between reality and make-believe. He had been subjected to such strange imagery, he still woke up a night with flashes of revelations, which he quickly jotted down in his notebook. There would come a time, he knew, where he would have no choice to talk about it, about the Zeru, if only to get the weight of their existence off his chest.

  But now was not the time.

  He wasn’t ready for it and besides, at the moment, he rather enjoyed being the sole earthling with privileged information.

  Well, technically, he wasn’t the only one.

  “I’ve been doing research,” Emmeline started with a side glance. “About your Zeru.”

  “They’re not mine, you know.”

  “I know, I’m just pulling your leg.”

  Simon watched with a knowing smile as she brushed a strand of hair from her eyes. In the glow of the afternoon sun, Emmeline’s soft green eyes radiated with energy.

  “Really,” he said. “I’m surprised.”

  “Don’t be a wise guy, mister.”

  “Oh, okay. Sorry,” he said with false sincerity. “Please proceed.”

  “Like I said, I did research. And I discovered interesting information.”

  She paused and stared at a sleek black helicopter flying out over the waters of the lake. She wondered, not for the first time, if they were being watched by a secret Government agency. Those in power were probably skeptical about their testimonials. About the fact they believed the sinkhole and subsequent mine collapse had been caused by a rare geological event. Oh, sure there had been an eruption of a sludge-like material, a type of hitherto unknown algae, but that too could be explained away. Climate change gave
rise to all kinds of unusual phenomenon, from rekindling ancient viruses to transforming existing biology. The investigation boards had been swift in choosing not to pursue what she and Simon had found in the underground cavern. There was a desire to bury the subject as quickly as possible. The possibility of leaks to the press was a constant threat hanging over the heads of the decision makers, something they feared could be more damageable than the menace itself.

  If there had been a threat in the first place.

  “Well, don’t leave me hanging,” Simon complained with a pull on her elbow.

  She leaned closer to him.

  “I think the Zeru, as you call them, might have been here before.”

  Surprised by the revelation, Simon urged her on, eager to find out what she had dug up. “Do you mean to say, they were here,” he spread his arms to indicate the city surrounding them, “... in Cleveland?”

  “No, smart aleck. On Earth.”

  “Oh.”

  “As you know full well, the Net has untold thousands of petabytes of data lying around for one to search.”

  “Yes, and?”

  “Well, using my sleuthing techniques, and an archeologist colleague of mine from Pantheon-Sorbonne University in Paris, I came across an extract from an ancient Sumerian text engraved on a stone tablet,” she said. “A newly discovered tablet, by the way.”

  “A Sumerian text?”

  “Yes,” she said with a brief nod. “Sumerian was a language spoken in ancient Mesopotamia. The word Sumerian comes from Sumer, which, as you might be aware of, was a region also known as the land of civilized Kings.”

  “The land of civilized Kings,” Simon repeated, letting the words roll away.

  “In our time, this age-old land goes with its modern name.”

  “Which is?”

  “Iraq.”

  “Interesting,” Simon said, his interest piqued. “What did the text say?” He had kept quiet about the Zeru, fearing he would never again find peace and tranquility. The entire world would label him a nutcase and a fraud, or at the opposite side of the spectrum, the one who had ‘The Truth’. Visions of shady dudes searching his garbage cans for scraps of conspiratorial information twirled in his head, a scenario he wanted to avoid at all cost.