Transendence

by Jared Teer

  “Wait,” said Kagan. Darion didn’t break stride. “Wait! Aaargh!”

  Darion had flipped forward, driving the soles of both feet into Kagan’s chest, sending him stumbling backward once again. Darion hovered in a supine position and then inclined rigidly forward and landed on his feet. He pursued Kagan with a brutal onslaught of punches, the master unable to match Darion’s ferocity. Kagan couldn’t land a blow, and every time he threw a punch Darion landed a counter. Kagan’s body emitted puffs of golden mist at every blow, and a straight right to the chest sent him sailing backward, trailing golden-hinted blood from his mouth. Darion walked forward casually and then broke into a sprint in pursuit. He leapt forward, pulling up his knees and adopting a balled-up state. Kagan sailed backward, beaten too soundly to overcome the inertia.

  Darion shot toward him, spinning forward rapidly in the ball. As he neared Kagan, Darion suddenly separated into two—a clone of himself continued to hurl like a ball toward Kagan, as the true Darion came out of the spin and touched down in a three-point stance, ripping up the pavement as he slid to a halt.

  The clone began to radiate golden light and then shone white hot a split second before impacting with Kagan.

  Impulsive kid! Kagan thought. Incredibly strong, but blinded by rage. What about WAIT was incomprehensible?

  He couldn’t blame Darion, though, he had egged him on. Perhaps the bit about his friends was a tad too much. As the radiant clone neared, Kagan could feel his molecules being torn apart, and his world went golden. But then his thoughts went to that day so many decades ago and he recalled the two gunshots—one, a pause that seemed like an eternity, then the other. With newfound strength, Kagan managed to extend his palm, summoning the pocket universe.

  The clone detonated on impact—the blast turning Manhattan into a concaved maelstrom of debris and crackling energies. Darion observed from high above the island, his arms crossed as the fire in his eyes calmed and ceased. Darion watched as the mushroom cloud dissipated, and then …

  “Unbelievable!”

  A golden ray of light shot from the epicenter of the blast and came to a stop high in the air. Darion’s Ascended eyes could make Kagan out despite the great distance between them. His indignation welled, erupting as his eyes burned once again. He rocketed for Kagan in supine flight with his fists extended.

  “Darion, wait!” said Kagan. Darion only accelerated. “Listen, please,” said Kagan, but Darion kept coming. “Very well,” Kagan sighed, and he inclined his palm toward Darion as he neared.

  Vrrrmmm! A concussive blast augmented by the power of over one hundred warriors of the Host shot from Kagan’s palm.

  The blast knocked Darion back with such force that he was promptly deposited in the side of a mountain in the Catskills. As he lay unconscious in the rubble-strewn crater, Kagan materialized standing beside him.

  He lifted Darion by the front of his lapel and shook him back and forth, back to consciousness. Darion’s head bobbed as Kagan continued to push and pull him with one arm. On one of Kagan’s tugs, Darion summoned his last bit of might and shifted forward, smashing his forehead into Kagan’s nose in a blossom of golden mist. Kagan released him and toppled backward as his nose gushed golden-tinted blood. Darion fell face first to the ground. Kagan lay motionless for a few moments and then sat up jerkily. He stood and lifted the semi-conscious Darion again by the front of his shirt.

  Looking into his eyes, Kagan spoke. “Impressive, truly impressive. Even now I can see in your eyes that you are still determined to persist. That last attack of yours was punishing indeed. If only you weren’t completely exhausted, another blow would surely finish me off. Now, you will join your friends.” Kagan held out his other hand and the pocket universe materialized in his palm.

  “Hans, that—is—enough!” came a female’s voice from behind that froze Kagan on the spot. His eyes became wide and his mouth was agape. “What is your problem?!”

  “Helena, is that you?” Kagan said without turning to see.

  “Yes, it’s me. Who else would it be … dear? Put—him—down!”

  “Yes, Helena,” said Kagan, and he materialized a couch out of thin air and laid Darion upon it.

  Kagan’s wife approached, a light-complexioned woman with long, curly brown hair. She wore a flowing white robe girded with a belt of golden rings. She kneeled beside the couch and placed her hand on Darion’s chest, transferring some of her Essence into him to heal him.

  “Have you completely lost your mind, Hans? This young man was on the verge of molecular dispersal, and you didn’t think he’d had enough?”

  “I was about to reunite him with his friends,” Kagan said. “Honest, see … ”

  Kagan extended the palm with the orb atop it and the pocket universe flew high into the air and exploded in a flash of brilliant white light. All of those imprisoned in the pocket universe appeared hovering in midair, looking around questioningly at each other and their new surroundings.

  Darion recovered and sat up.

  “Feel better, dear?” Helena asked him.

  “Yes, ma’am,” said Darion.

  Hughes and the others from the initial contact team touched down.

  “Hans!” Helena barked.

  “I apologize for imprisoning you all inside a pocket universe,” Kagan said. “I felt that the situation was too dire to be held up by operating through official channels, so I acted alone. I wanted to ensure that my plan proceeded without interruption, so I revealed myself at Arwad to distract you and give my plan time to unfold.”

  “What have you done to Jacob?” Darion asked in a harsh tone.

  “Your friend is fine,” said Kagan. “As a matter of fact, I’m sure he’s never felt better.”

  “What are you talking about, Hans?” asked Hughes.

  “Allow me to accompany you back to the Command Center, and I’ll tell you all I know.”

  CHAPTER 20

  The Age of Reason

  The entire group teleported from the Oneiric Plane in New York and materialized in the command level of the Command Center.

  “My God!” exclaimed Enoch. “What in the world happened? Kagan!?”

  “Greetings, Commander,” said Kagan. “It’s been a long time.”

  “Indeed,” said Enoch. “I see that you’ve grown quite powerful in your exile. It’s a pity that in that time you’ve still failed to learn that there are rules of engagement that bind us until the End of Days.”

  “How can you speak to me of questionable tactics after sicking my wife on me?” Kagan replied. “All that I’ve done has been in the best interest of those we are sworn to protect, and given your lack of knowledge regarding the scope of the current Enemy plot, I hold fast to my belief that I did what had to be done.”

  “What do you mean, Kagan?” asked the commander. “What imminent threat was averted by the slaughtering of those men by obviously supernatural means? Do you not realize that you endanger those we are sworn to protect further with such evidences of the metaphysical? The Enemy will just ramp up their efforts in an attempt to eradicate such knowledge.”

  “That’s just it, Commander, the Enemy is behind the recent massacres in the Middle East,” Kagan replied. “They’ve cleverly made me their scapegoat, while in fact the killings have been of their machinations all along. It pains me to inform you that the Enemy has succeeded in creating their ultimate work, a materialist magician—a man beholden to and empowered by what he perceives to be naturally occurring metaphysical forces, yet devoid of any belief in the Almighty.”

  There were gasps and murmurs from the assembly. “What!?” said Enoch. “Are you certain, Hans?”

  “During my exile in the Golan Heights, I spent much of the time in deep meditation so as to augment my powers. I developed the ability to expand my consciousness to such a degree that I could achieve omnipresence within a limited radius in both the physical and Oneiric planes—an ability that also has combative applications, as the visitors to the pocket universe kn
ow firsthand.” There were grumblings from some of those still sour in the crowd and Kagan smirked and continued, “During one instance of so extending my consciousness, I was able to overhear portions of a conversation between two demons passing through my omnipresent sphere. They were headed toward Syria, unaware of my presence within Bental’s cavernous depths. They were moving fast, but I was able to catch one say, ‘and the primates’ intellects will remain opposed to belief in the enemy.’ By enemy, of course, I knew they meant our Creator.

  “I may have easily disregarded his ranting, but as we know, there are no chance occurrences, and the boastful gusto with which the demon spoke compelled me to seriously consider his words. After much pondering, I recalled reading a passage in the Hall of Knowledge from a treatise on Demystification—the Enemy’s call for anonymity to deceive the masses. The passage spoke doubtfully of the Enemy’s ability, and willingness, to maintain such a statute, given their penchant for the carnal. It went on to describe possible methods for the Enemy to maintain anonymity while still allowing them to experience, to a degree, the material. The treatise describes elemental—”

  “Forces,” Enoch interjected. “Elemental forces. Transphysical beings masquerading as elemental forces of nature, no more mythical or mystical than say, gravity or magnetism. With such deception, the Enemy could openly engage in their exploits of possession, or the imbuing of terrestrials with transphysical abilities.”

  “Precisely, Commander,” said Kagan. “When I considered this as their goal, I rashly exploded from my place of exile in Mount Bental and considered confronting those demons then and there. You’d be pleased, Commander—I regained my composure and decided that subtlety would be the best approach.”

  “You could have brought this information to our attention then,” said Enoch.

  “Commander,” Kagan replied, “I said I thought subtlety would be best, not bureaucracy. I didn’t want to be held up in any way with banter over the proper course of action, for I still believed that the situation might call for my special methods; I’ve always been one who believes that sometimes it’s better to ask forgiveness than permission.

  “I chose to investigate on my own, believing in my gut that the Enemy planned to imbue terrorist cells with transphysical abilities that would allow them to overcome their much more technologically advanced enemies. I was wrong. I was able to conceal my movements from both the Host and the Enemy by phasing in and out of the pocket universe and the material, and I infiltrated the terrorist hierarchies by inhabiting various individuals. In my investigation, I found no evidence of any of the terrorists being imbued with any transphysical properties, or of any plans to do so.

  “I was perplexed and beginning to believe that I’d misunderstood the demon’s words, but then I came across some enlightening information in the terrorists’ databases. It seemed that a major supplier of their illegal weaponry was the supposed philanthropist, physicist Francis Hitchkins. I figured that Hitchkins, being a worldrenowned scientist, would be the one to supply the terrorists with any so-called elemental enhancements, seeing that he conceivably had the technological know-how to promulgate such a farce.

  “I sought to track him down, but found it impossible—as if his movements were being concealed by the Enemy. I increased surveillance of the terrorist cells, believing that they would contact Hitchkins for an arms deal, and made a terrible discovery at a terrorist camp in Pakistan. I found the mutilated remains of numerous men, all killed by what I concluded to have been giant insects—nothing else could explain the wounds. As I continued my search for Hitchkins, my theory was proven when I discovered a similar massacre in Lebanon. I discovered partially eaten remains of men in the sand in bowl-like depressions that could only be explained as spider burrows.

  “I didn’t know why, but I believed that, for some reason, Hitchkins was killing off his terrorist clientele. I couldn’t find Hitchkins, but I could track the radical leaders. I followed Al-Laden to a hidden base in Syria for an emergency meeting of the heads of several terrorist groups. I’d concealed myself in the pocket universe and extended my omnipresent sphere to observe the surroundings.

  “That’s when he came. Even concealed in the pocket universe, I could feel the miasma wash over me, over the entire expanse. It was Hitchkins—imbued with and augmented by the power of the Enemy himself.”

  Many in the assembly gasped at this revelation and began to discuss it among themselves. Enoch had to call for their silence to allow Kagan to continue. “Go on Kagan,” said Enoch. “Then what did you do?”

  “I … ” Kagan began, pausing briefly before continuing, “I did what had to be done, though not in the manner in which you are accustomed. I believe that if you monitor the terrestrial news, you will see why.”

  “Uh!” said Darion, “Excuse me. This is all well and good, but I want some answers of my own. I want to know what you meant when you said, ‘Jacob will never be the same’? What did you mean by, ‘he’s never felt better’?”

  Kagan smiled. “I like your attitude, young man,” he said. “Your fiery determination is truly an asset. Your friend Jacob possesses a similar … fire. Trust me, Darion. Watch, and you will have your answers as well. On the bank of the East River in Manhattan lay the historic UN Headquarters complex. It was a cloudless afternoon, and the grounds were filled with tourists from across the United States and around the world. In the circular hall of the General Assembly building, though, those gathered had more serious business to attend to. Republican President Buzz Coulter stood at the podium before the press and the many rows of desks occupied by representatives from across the globe.

  “Yes,” said President Coulter, “my administration is committed, committed to uh, eliminating terrorizers, uh, those who perpetrate acts of terror across the globe. But … but, I say again, the United States had nothing, nothing to do with the killings of those men. Now, people, uh, people in the media, are repeating what the terrorists said in the recently released uh, terrorist Internet video, that ‘only the United States could have carried out such attacks.’ Now, I ask, who are you gonna believe—the president of the United States, uh, standing before you right now with nothing to hide, or, or, terrorizers who hide amongst, uh, innocent people, and make outrageous, uh, claims by way of video recordings?”

  There was mumbling among the assembly and the representative of Iran spoke, President Khameneijad. “Liar!” he yelled. “More lies from the imperialists! You’ve developed some new weaponry in order to continue your oppression of Arab and Islamic societies. No doubt your Zionist cronies in Israel played a role in these cowardly attacks as well. Iran will not sit idly by while you … ”

  The building began to rumble as if its very foundation was being shaken. Outside of the building, a large, saucer-like craft of glossy metal was touching down on the very roof of the General Assembly rotunda.

  There were crackling sounds from below as if something was boring through the ground. “Earthquake!” Secret Service agents made for the stage to secure the president but were stopped in their tracks when two hideous beings erupted from below the very platform on either side of the stage—seven-foot, red, ant-like, humanoid creatures. The assembled diplomats scrambled to flee upon laying eyes on the beasts. Some dedicated journalists, photographers, and cameramen took cover behind anything they could, attempting to get footage of the strange creatures. The fleeing assembly members found that it was futile, for more ant-like beasts had erupted from before the exit doors, blocking the way. The UN security guards standing by the exits were promptly rent asunder by the beasts’ merciless claws.

  The Secret Service agents drew their automatic pistols and let loose on the beings. Their armor piercing rounds riddled the insectizoids’ carapaces, but the bullets weren’t of a caliber sufficient to incapacitate the durable creatures. The insectizoids walked through the bullets and fell upon the agents, taking them in their pincers and thrashing them about, or ripping and slashing them with their claws.

 
The president stood helpless behind the podium as the insectizoids converged; one grabbed him by the upper arm in a viselike grip. There came a humming sound from above, and a circular section fifteen feet in diameter in the ceiling above the stage shone red hot and suddenly disappeared, revealing the open under-bay of the saucer. Hitchkins slowly descended from the hole with his arms held out to the side like some messianic figure, his flowing blonde hair dancing about his head. He had a smile on his face and his blue eyes were wide with jollity. He wore a white, formfitting, full-body suit over his lean, muscular frame. His lower legs were adorned with shiny golden greaves. Girding his waist from his diaphragm to his hips was a polished midsection band. On his shoulders he wore spaulders that covered his upper chest and back with a connected metal stand-up collar opened at the front to reveal the whole of his throat.

  “Peace, peace,” he said in a reassuring tone as he descended to the platform. He landed beside the president, at which time the insectizoid holding him yanked him to the side to give Hitchkins the stage.

  “Members of the General Assembly,” Hitchkins said, “please, return to your seats. My guards will do you no harm, for they are instructed to respond only to armed threats. Please.”

  The members of the assembly reluctantly took their seats, none willing to question a man seemingly able to defy gravity as well as command such deadly monsters.

  “Thank you all. I doubt that any of you can recognize me in my rejuvenated form, but I am Francis Hitchkins.”

  There were gasps from the assembly, all knowing Francis Hitchkins to be an enfeebled, elderly man.

  Hitchkins continued, “Astonishing, I know—but it’s true. Many of you are aware of my scientific prowess, for I have provided the world with many innovations that have been an asset to mankind. Now, I have made the greatest discovery in the history of mankind, a discovery that allowed me to transform from the geriatric patient you once knew to the being of unimaginable power standing before you today.