by Jared Teer
“I’ve discovered a new element, the very source of life and human sentience itself, a primordial element I’ve dubbed: hellium. Hellium, the catalyst of evolution. With it, the enfeebled can be restored to the vigor and vitality of their youth. With it, disease can be cured. With it, the world can sway from the dark road of history, the dark road of intolerance that led to nowhere but ruin. And I, the discoverer of hellium, the one imbued with the whole of its magnificent power, will be the one to lead the world into its golden age, an age of reason.”
“You’re responsible for the attacks in the Middle East!” President Coulter blurted before being silenced by a squeeze from the insectizoid’s powerful claws.
“As much as I loathe your administration, and enjoy hearing you stammer and mutter in ignorance to defend it, I cannot allow you to take the blame for the incidents. It is true, I was responsible for the disposal of the Islamic fanatics. President Khameneijad, described the incidents as ‘cowardly attacks.’ I beg to differ. I see it as a natural progression—the elimination of individuals who were detrimental to the advancement of life on earth by those representing a sustainable future.
“Unlike many of my colleagues, I do not restrict my condemnation for religious zealots to the Christian right. Out of what can only be some misguided sense of multiculturalism, they simply refuse to acknowledge the atrocities inherent in Islam, with some actually making calls for understanding in dealing with such societies. Well, I do understand—which is why I know that they must be marginalized, if not completely eradicated.
“You see, the destruction of the terrorists was only the beginning. It is such theocratic ideologies that have led the world to the brink of destruction, constantly pitting mankind against one another in disputes over ancient literature whose authors sought nothing more than the rule of the masses through fear of superstitious lore. It was ingenious, really, and at one time the unquestioning loyalty of the religious was perhaps even best to guarantee the survival of their civilizations. In modern times, though, with the rise of globalization, such ideologies and divisions should no longer be permitted, for they hinder the merger and progression of the human family.
“It was with such progression in mind that I did what was best for mankind as a whole. The radical Islamists were ideal specimens for the testing of my hellium-induced powers. Terrorists are single minded and fight with a determination unmatched by the professional soldiers of more technologically advanced societies. I knew that if I could defeat such determined, but deluded, men in battle, the soldiers simply seeking a paycheck of nations such as the U.S. would stand no chance against me.”
Hitchkins turned to President Coulter. “The time of theocracies and governments driven by religious ideologies is at an end: Your time has come to an end as well, Mr. President. You, the supposed, ‘most powerful man on earth,’ stand helpless before me. I do not blame you personally, for I know that your ideologies are but the result of millennia of promulgation of flawed religious doctrines. Still, your position is the apex, the culmination of such ideologies, and must therefore be eliminated to demonstrate to other nations—Israel, Iran, and others in the Middle East—the ultimate end of such thinking in this new age.”
Hitchkins effortlessly hoisted the podium and hurled it to the floor before the stage to ensure that nobody had an obstructed view. “Release him,” he commanded the insectizoid and the president stumbled forward. “I take no pleasure in this,” Hitchkins said as he began to raise his right hand.
The president, a tough-talking Texan, suddenly lashed out with a right cross to Hitchkins’s chin that had absolutely no effect, except for causing his own fist great discomfort.
“Hellium grants one extraordinary abilities, Mr. President,” said Hitchkins as he raised his arm, extending his palm toward Coulter. “The ability to rejuvenate the feeble … ” Hitchkins’s hand began to glow and a golden ray shot from his palm into the president’s chest. The president’s gray hair began to change back to its youthful brown and his wrinkles began to fade. “Or,” Hitchkins continued, “the ability to enfeeble the spry.” The ray seemed to reverse trajectory, actually pulling energy from the president. His hair began to turn gray, his wrinkles returned, and he collapsed to his knees—he was withering before the very eyes of the assembly.
At that moment, something blasted through the ceiling of the General Assembly hall, or burned through it, rather, with the smoldering edges of the circular hole raining embers to the assembly floor.
A being slowly descended through the hole to the astonishment of the assembly (to the astonishment of both the UN assembly and those in the Command Center on Polaris as well) and even to Hitchkins himself, causing him to cease his beam.
“What—in—the … Jarvis!?” Darion exclaimed at the Command Center, watching the events unfold on the viewing arc.
It was indeed Jacob Jarvis, but he appeared to be horribly burned, unnaturally so—far worse than he’d been in the fateful attack in Mosul. He had no hair on his head or body, and his skin was charred, as black as and resembling coal. His skin was cracked, with red-hot embers showing in the crevices. For someone who’d been bedridden for so long, he showed no signs of muscular atrophy, and was even more toned than before the VBIED attack.
His eyes were intense, his pupils shone like the embers in his skin. He wore no top over his charcoal-like torso, and was attired only in formfitting, brief-like trunks and boots that rose to just below his calves, both comprised of a smooth material as black as his charred skin.
The insectizoids, under orders to attack only armed resisters, held their ground.
“Uh, Francis,” said Jarvis, fighting back a chuckle after saying the name, “please step away from the president.”
“Who are you?!” Hitchkins demanded, stunned, believing that perhaps the U.S. government had somehow duplicated his work, producing a hellium-enhanced subject of their own.
“Who I am, doesn’t matter,” said Jarvis. “What I am is a United States soldier, and that is my commander in chief. I say again, please step away from the president.”
“If you haven’t noticed,” said Hitchkins, “you are outnumbered.” He made a sweeping gesture with his hand, indicating his insectizoid guards—ten in all, including the two on the stage.
Jarvis smirked.
“Do you find something amusing?” asked Hitchkins.
“It’s just, all I see is a bunch of bugs,” Jarvis replied.
“Bugs?!” said Hitchkins. “Very well. Have it your way. Tear him apart!”
The insectizoids’ wings extended from their backs and they took off for Jarvis. Those gathered in the hall saw their opportunity and scrambled for the exits.
Jarvis’s eyes suddenly erupted with flame and the embers in his skin shone brighter. He extended his palms toward the two insectizoids approaching from the stage and streams of fire shot from his hands, blasting them both. Their wings incinerated, the two fell to the floor where they writhed momentarily, then nevermore—their red exoskeletons now charred, smoldering husks.
Jarvis spun in midair and backed in the direction of the stage. With thrusting motions of his arms, he blasted the approaching insectizoids with fireballs, sending them crashing to the floor in smoking heaps. One dodged the fireballs and managed to grab Jarvis by the shoulders and pulled him toward its chomping pincers. Jarvis’s eyes emitted a blast of flame rays that incinerated the insectizoid’s head, and it released him and fell to the floor.
“Aaahhg!” A concussive blast from Hitchkins’s palm blasted Jarvis in the back, sending him crashing to the floor through a desk.
Hitchkins hovered from the stage and touched down on the assembly floor, leaving the president on the stage praying on his hands and knees. Hitchkins stalked toward Jarvis, who lay motionless, face down in the rubble of the split table.
“Fool,” said Hitchkins as he approached the fallen warrior. “Whoever you are, your powers pale in comparison to my own … ”
“Mr. President, r
un!” Jarvis yelled while popping to his feet, having been feigning unconsciousness all along.
Hitchkins flinched, taking a stutter step backward at this revelation. Flame suddenly erupted from every ember-laden crevice on Jarvis’s body in a spherical blast fifteen feet in diameter, which incinerated all within its radius and burned a concave in the floor. The blast sent Hitchkins hurtling backward; the president dove to the assembly floor as Hitchkins went sailing into the wall behind the stage, smashing a crater in its facade just below the UN emblem.
Jarvis turned to observe. His fiery pupils changed to their normal brown, and sandy blonde hair emerged on his head in the high-and-tight style common of the military. The cracks in his skin closed as his body changed from charred black to its normal state—his body exhibited no scarring from the burns from the VBIED attack.
The president stood before the stage, looking back and forth between the crater and Jarvis.
“Mr. President?” asked Jarvis.
After looking back and forth a couple more times, the president snapped back to awareness and responded. “Ye … uh … yes.”
“You’re free now, sir, but I don’t think he’s done yet.” Jarvis motioned toward the crater in which Hitchkins was beginning to stir.
“Oh, uh, yes,” said the president. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, sir.”
The president ran for the exit and Jarvis turned his attention to the crater. Hitchkins rose from the rubble and proceeded to walk to the front of the stage where he glared down at Jarvis.
When he spoke, Hitchkins’s voice reverberated as if spoken by two—the other voice was much more deep and raspy than Hitchkins’s usual one. “You foolish interloper. Somehow, you’ve managed to come into possession of the power primordial. It matters not, for this world is mine. Being the ruler of this world, I can extend to you great authority as well—wealth, women, and power. Join me. To refuse would be folly, for as you have witnessed, I can withstand your greatest efforts.”
Jacob smiled and shook his head. “Don’t worry,” he said as his eyes erupted with flame and his body changed back to a charred state. “I’m just getting warmed up.”
“Very well,” said Hitchkins, his voice back to normal. His eyes began to shine golden, and he raised his arms to the sides with his palms up.
Rumbling came from beneath the floor and the entire assembly hall seemed to shake. Dozens of ant-like insectizoids began to burst from the floor, surrounding Jacob and filling the hall.
Even with his new powers, the sheer numbers of the insectizoids seemed insurmountable to Jacob. He maintained his composure outwardly, but his heart sank, and inside he said a desperate prayer. In the Command Center, the assembly watched the events unfold at the UN in quiet astonishment.
Sky broke the silence. “Uh, is everyone thinking what I’m thinking?”
All in the assembly turned and regarded him questioningly.
“His shorts,” Sky continued, “his shorts and boots are fire resistant!”
Clay slapped Sky on the back of the head.
“Cadet Conner does have a point,” said Enoch. “I mean, we wouldn’t want our walking inferno burning through his britches, right, Hans? I’m certain the fire-resistant clothing is another of your bestowments?”
“Indeed, Commander,” Kagan said with a smile.
The blue halo about Enoch’s head began to pulsate convulsively. “Well, what do you know?” said Enoch. “I’m getting some quite interesting instructions in response to many strange prayer requests, most pertaining to saving people from horrifying ant monsters.”
“Sir,” Darion said to Enoch, “Jacob is in trouble. He’s surrounded. Even with his fire powers, I don’t think he can defeat them all.”
“Yes, Jacob seems to feel the same way,” Enoch replied. “He made a prayer request as well … and we’re going to help him.”
“Already on it, Commander,” said Kagan. “His teammates are en route and should be arriving shortly.”
“Teammates?!” asked Darion.
“Hans?” said Enoch.
“I had to be certain that the terrestrials had a fighting chance,” said Kagan. “I went to Brooke Army Medical Center and found Jacob in a bad way, still horribly burned and being tormented by Zadadach and his goons. So, I scattered their Essences throughout the universe. Young Darion won’t be having to worry about Zadadach for quite some time.”
“Hughes!” Darion said abruptly. “Come to think of it, there was a boat at my marina that was painted with black and red flames. I think it had the name Fire Cracker, emblazoned on the side. Don’t tell me that’s … ”
Kagan continued, “I then approached Jacob in the Oneiric Plane. I told him that I was there to help, and imbued him with a fraction of the power primordial, specifically, the ability to transform into a denser, stronger physical state, with the power to manipulate and control fire. I granted these abilities with a stipulation—that he must always strive to do the right thing and protect those in need. I told him that his first test would be at the UN building and to get there ASAP, for the life of the president hung in the balance. I then materialized the shorts and boots and left them by his bedside for when he woke up.
“It came to me that I may have been sending Jacob to his death, for I didn’t know how powerful one imbued by the power of the Enemy himself might be. The Enemy has been imbuing terrestrials with ‘superpowers’ for millennia—vampires, werewolves, and sorcerers—so I figured it was time to start leveling the playing field. I then considered that there were others who had been wounded, but survived the attack that caused Darion’s death and left Jacob burned—”
“And ‘you did what had to be done,’” Enoch interjected.
“Precisely, Commander,” said Kagan.
“Who else did you imbue with powers?” asked Darion.
“Three others,” said Kagan. “Your teammates, Mitchell and Cervantes, as well as a female medic who was wounded trying to get Jacob and the others out of the Stryker.”
“You gave them all the ability to manipulate fire?” asked Enoch.
“Negative, Commander,” said Kagan. “I bestowed each of their abilities dependent on the predicament in which I found them. I figured that a team with an assortment of attributes would be best to counter whatever powers Hitchkins had been granted.”
“You know what, Hans,” said Enoch, “I think you did the right thing. When you have murderous megalomaniacs imbued with the power of Satan himself, making plays for world domination, perhaps it’s time to reevaluate our rules of engagement. Well, it looks like the Host is now in the business of insuring that goodnatured terrestrials with superpowers prevail against those with powers imbued by demonic forces.” Enoch sighed, “The Creator did say things would get a lot worse before he returned.”
“That may be so,” said Darion, shaking his head and trying to wrap his mind around the revelations, “but this just keeps getting better and better.”
Acknowledgments
Those who have motivated, put up with, or encouraged me in some way, are so numerous that I could fill another book to acknowledge them.
First and foremost, I’d like to thank God in Jesus’ name for blessing me with this opportunity, for the completion of this book was truly nothing short of miraculous.
My lovely wife “Smoochypoo,” for not complaining about being married to a man who was by all accounts attached symbiotically to a computer for months during the writing of this book.
My mom, dad, family, Grandma, Mr. C, aunts, uncles, and cousins.
My good friend Keith.
Mr. Strain, who stressed the importance of learning English well.
Mrs. Hyde, who saw potential in me when I was too silly to care.
Sarah, Emily, Nancy, and Elizabeth, the knowledgeable grammar Nazis of the Evergreen State College writing program.
The U.S. Army for taking a punk kid and making him an “army strong” man.
Hawk, who taught me much ab
out life, besides the textbook methods of kicking someone’s butt.
The Academy of Brain Johnson in Lacey, Wash., and the Pacific Northwest fight scene in general.
Ryan and the staff at Danger Room Comics in Olympia, Wash.
Last but not least, to those who enjoyed this first installment of the Transcendence series, don’t worry—I’m just getting warmed up.