by G E Hathaway
“Noah, can you hear me?”
Liam’s baritone voice was close, but he couldn’t tell where he was. A dark mass materialized before him and he felt something touch his arm. As consciousness slowly reclaimed him, the pain did as well. A low moan escaped his lips.
“Don’t move...trauma to the head-”
He could hear Ellie now, her sobs coming into sharper focus. He had been chasing her, he remembered. Chasing a light bobbing through winding dark tunnels, listening to the sound of footsteps pounding against the cave floor, feeling the insatiable urge to-
“Ellie,” he groaned.
She had hit him.
He remembered the touch of her skin as he grabbed her arm, her blood pulsing just beneath the surface. He remembered her scream and her face as she turned around and looked at him with fire in her eyes just before swinging and striking him hard against his head with the torch.
The dark mass moved out of Noah’s vision and was replaced by a smaller shape. Talisa’s voice drifted down to him now, muttering strange words in his ear. Then she placed her hand on his chest.
Rain soaked through his clothes and into his body, calming his nerves. The pain in his head subsided. His muscles began to relax and he lay still, breathing evenly for the first time in days. Perhaps months. He closed his eyes.
* * *
It was June 18.
He had worked on the top floor of One South Church Tower overlooking downtown Tucson. The city was alive with activity and buzzing with the latest technology news. Utopian Industries had just unveiled its latest update to its board of directors, and the shareholders were eager with anticipation as they waited for the update to come to the regional offices.
The Tucson office only had to wait a few minutes to receive the update from headquarters in San Nouveau and release it to the local infrastructures.
Noah waited in his cubicle, watching the projections of live feeds from around the nation flicker in the air around his desk. He dressed in the the customary Utopian Industries uniform- a tailored black suit with crisp white shirt and black tie, GridGlasses perched on his face. His computer pad stretched the length of his desk, integrated into the smooth, glassy surface.
“One minute until deployment,” announced the disembodied voice of his personal computer assistant.
“You gotta stop saying that, Hal,” Noah answered back, “it’s making me nervous!” He drummed his fingers anxiously against the table top, ignoring the prompts that came up as the computer tried to anticipate his commands.
Up until today, the Grid only existed as an evolved energy infrastructure that removed all physical limitations and placed power into the air. But after this update, the Grid would become something else entirely.
“Perhaps a different tone would best suit you?” Hal said politely.
Noah considered it. “What have you got?”
An alarm split the air and Noah’s heart leapt into his throat. Coffee spilled across the desk. Hal’s voice boomed overhead.
“Warning! Fifty seconds until liftoff, remember to remove all flammable clothing and kiss your rear good-bye! Commencing update in fifty seconds-”
“Shh! Stop!” Noah cursed himself for programming a sense of humor into Hal. The sound died, and immediately he heard the creak of doors opening and heads poking out into the hallway.
“Sorry!” He yelled, “it was me, I’m sorry!”
Someone shouted something from down the hall, but Noah was too embarrassed to hear them. He covered his face, his cheeks warm. “I swear to God, Hal, I should delete you.”
“Then who would remind you that you have thirty-five seconds left until deployment?”
Noah rolled his eyes and rolled his shirt sleeves up, temporarily breaking dress code. He was feeling hot. “All systems ready?”
“Same as ten seconds ago.”
“What would I do without you?”
Someone hurried passed his doorway. He caught a glimpse of their crisp white dress shirt and thick-framed glasses as they glanced inside his cubicle.
“Twenty seconds,” their voice rang out before disappearing from view.
“I was going to say that,” Hal protested.
Noah watched the feeds, noting the clock as it counted excruciatingly toward zero.
His main projection screen beeped in notification and he jumped forward, muting all other panels so he could focus. He read the report, eyes darting across the screen, then waved it from view and began typing furiously on his desk. A hush fell over the entire floor as every Grid technician followed suit. Then, as if part of a carefully conducted orchestra, they all hit the return key at the same time.
Noah held his breath.
A few seconds later, the screen turned green in affirmation.
The update was live.
Noah quickly typed a command. It was a simple one, but one he had waited months to finally input.
For a moment nothing happened. Then he watched as a small figure materialized out of thin air, floating just above the glass surface.
It started at its simplest form. First the axle, then the frame. The windows came next, followed by the tires and finally the light blue paint color.
A simple model Grid car, three-dimensionally printed completely from thin air.
Noah stared at it in amazement.
“It worked,” Hal said.
Noah picked it up and felt its weight, sturdy and heavy in his hand. The Grid car had been one of the first technologies made by Utopian Industries, and it now served as a symbolic mascot for the company. He set the model car on the table and pushed. It rolled with ease, stopping just before the edge. He touched the edge of his GridGlasses to activate the digital screen so he could read the chemical and structural makeup of the model.
“Grid car model is made out of a blend of metal and polyvinyl chloride,” Hal narrated. “Paint contains titanium dioxide, oil, and binding agents.”
Noah smiled. The update had worked.
Building model cars was just the beginning. The very same technology could go on to create actual vehicles out of thin air. Create anything out of thin air. Noah held the key to the future in his hands now. All that was left was fine-tuning the update so it could be sent out to the masses.
A roar of excitement began to build across the floor as more technicians emerged from their cubicles carrying the same successful experiment. He joined the bespectacled crowd in the halls, each carrying an identical model car in their hands. Someone clapped him on the back and he grinned. Lights and colors flashed all around, the wall projections streaming reactions from offices around the country and other parts of the world as people began to realize what had been given to them. This was more than just a projection or energy transference. This was moving matter on a molecular level. This was groundbreaking.
Then as abruptly as it all began, it ended.
The building plunged into darkness and the wall projections blinked off, leaving behind a trailing murmur of confusion. Many began tapping at their GridGlasses, but they had reverted to ordinary spectacles. No longer assaulted with the constant stream of backlit information, their eyes slowly adjusted to the morning sunlight filtering through the large picture windows.
“Did it overload the Grid?”
“Check with HQ...did they send a status?”
Dread filled the pit of Noah’s stomach. He ran to the nearest window and peered down, steeling himself for what he would see.
All transportation and utility infrastructures in downtown Tucson had been converted to Grid energy sources. The cityscape transformed dramatically, turning entire walls of buildings into Grid surfaces. The historic Chase Tower changed its aesthetic with the seasons, projecting snowfall down its sides in the winter to flashing colors during the annual parade festival. The city was a constant stream of light and color, a visual feast for hungry eyes. Grid cars traveled autonomously through the streets, weaving through traffic without the
need for traffic signals.
But now everything was dead.
Blank city buildings gaped up at him, their programming inaccessible. Half the vehicles on the streets sat frozen in their lanes. A few whose owners bothered to keep a backup power charge were still running, but the smart car feature had failed. Scrambling drivers tried to reclaim control, but many had never learned to drive. Clogged roadways turned into traps as vehicles collided. Even from his perch atop One Church Tower, he could hear the yells amplified by the surrounding buildings.
Dread filled the pit of Noah’s stomach. He tapped his GridGlasses. “Hal,” he said. “Hal?”
For the first time since he began working at Utopian Industries, Hal did not respond.
The room buzzed with fearful chatter. “What is going on?” someone shouted. “Did Headquarters call??
“The entire system has bricked!”
“Backup power’s failed, we can’t switch to solar.”
“Cloud is inaccessible!”
“Nothing from San Nouveau.”
“What about Field 5?” Noah shouted over the din.
Elysian Field 5, The main power supply for the southwest region of the United States, was located less than a hundred miles away in Phoenix. If they couldn’t reach San Nouveau, they could try to power up the regional feed. Get the desert back up and running before the heat set in.
“Field 5 is completely down.”
“What do we do?”
No one had an answer for that.
Noah pulled his glasses off his face. “I have to get home.” The same realization dawned on the faces around him.
He turned and walked past his cubicle and toward the bank of elevators at the far end of the floor. He passed puzzled faces staring back at him from behind their desks, their cubicles looking otherworldly, eerie, in the dark. He reached the row of elevator doors and made a hard turn toward the emergency stairwell.
It took twelve minutes to run down twenty-three flights of stairs, his chest burning by the time he reached the bottom. People swarmed the ground floor and he dodged clumsily through the crowd before bursting out the front doors and onto the sidewalk.
The city was silent. He made his way toward the parking garage where he kept his car parked amongst a line of identical company-issued vehicles, first in their class and outfitted with the latest technology. He couldn’t guarantee any of them would work now, but he had to try.
He was halfway across the street when he heard a terrible noise. Twisting metal, a terrible rattle. He looked around, but nothing was moving in the street.
He looked up. A large oblong mass filled his vision, growing larger and larger, its rotary blades sticking out at strange angles.
Noah stared uncomprehendingly up at the sky.
“Move!”
Hands shoved him hard from behind, and Noah sprawled backwards onto the sidewalk. A second later the news helicopter crashed into the middle of the street.
The explosion was so loud that Noah lost all hearing. The ground shook beneath him, and shards of metal rained down from above.
The same hands were now pulling him up, their shouts oddly muffled. Noah’s ears rang. A sheriff badge floated before his line of sight. He looked up to see blood streaked across the officer’s face, and Noah stared in horror.
“Are you okay?” the officer yelled again through the din.
The helicopter was partially hidden behind a dark cloud. Low flames leapt from inside the cabin. Noah could barely make out the News 15 logo on the crumpled door.
“What…” His legs gave out beneath him and the officer lowered him back to the ground.
“Stay here!” the officer shouted. “Don’t go any closer!”
People gathered along the sidewalk, their voices continuing to sound muffled against Noah’s shattered eardrums. The flames raged, an inferno inside a glass and metal cage, and he knew it was too late to save whoever was inside.
He watched the sheriff move through the crowd, trying to keep people away from the flames. He was young, no older than his early twenties. He kept glancing back at Noah with concern.
Noah needed to get home, needed to make sure his family was safe, but he couldn’t get up. His legs were like jelly, utterly useless. He stared at the helicopter, its metal now twisting from the heat, the people lost forever inside.
The Grid had fallen. People were dying. And it was too late to stop it.
* * *
Noah sputtered rainwater from his mouth and gasped for air, every breath a new miracle. His clothes were soaked through. His body was numb.
No. Not numb. His body was healed.
No more burns, cracked ribs, or splitting headache. He couldn't understand it.
The dark shadow before him came into sharp focus, and he saw Liam smiling down at him.
“You ok?” Liam asked, his voice a faint echo in Noah's ears. “Don’t go anywhere. Stay with me, ok?”
Noah nodded. Liam moved out of view and Talisa’s face appeared, her eyebrows knitted together in anticipation. That was when he knew.
She had done something to him.
He tried to look around. He couldn't see Ellie.
That was probably for the best. He closed his eyes.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Okay Talisa,” Liam said. “Talk.”
He looked sideways to see Noah in the front passenger staring solemnly out the rain-splattered window at the grey sky. Blood still caked the side of his head. Ellie leaned her head against her window, giving Talisa a wide berth in the backseat. She had refused to let Talisa come near her as they carried Noah into the car, but when Ellie went to unwind the bandages on her feet to check the wounds, she had found none. She touched the smooth skin, then looked at Talisa. The woman stood on the other side of the car with rain dripping down her face, watching her in silence.
“How did you do that?” Ellie demanded.
“The rain heals,” Talisa said simply.
Ellie felt rage building inexplicably inside her and she turned away, too angry and confused to trust herself to speak.
Now, with the car safely back on the freeway and Vail fading behind them in the distance, Liam was the first to speak.
“I can’t help you unless you tell me what’s going on. What happened in the cave?”
Ellie scoffed quietly, but he ignored her and met Talisa’s eyes in the rearview mirror.
He continued. “Who are you? What are you?”
She looked around the car. Ellie and Noah didn’t look back at her, Liam knew they were silently waiting for her to talk.
“It is difficult to say,” she finally said. “Your language...I have to find the right words.” Her fingers flexed, and Liam remembered how they felt pressed against his mouth. Had she used his words?
“Where are you from?”
“I am from here.”
“What language do you speak?”
“I know many languages, but to know the languages does not mean I can translate it in a way that will be understood by you.”
“Maybe you should try,” Noah spoke up. He was barely louder than a whisper, his head resting against the window with his eyes closed.
“Start with the cave,” Liam said. “Why did we go there?”
“To get to Darkness.”
“What does that mean?”
She frowned as if the answer was obvious. “It is Darkness. The absence of light. It is everywhere. It is where happiness disappears and self doubt clouds minds. It creates monsters, but not the kind you can see. Monsters that creep into your thoughts and choke out resiliency and your will to live. All humans carry a strain of darkness, some more than others. But It also lives deep underground where no sunlight can reach It. Where creatures are skeletal and don’t grow eyes. A human who goes in a cave might not feel Its effects right away, but deprive them from light for days and they will go mad. Darkness is an opportunist, combatted only by light.”
<
br /> “I felt it,” Ellie said, uncomfortably. “When I was sitting there waiting in the dark. I felt like my mind was slipping. I couldn’t...think straight.”
Talisa nodded. “We were only in the opening to the greater chasm where Darkness lives, but already It had grown powerful.”
“Why did you take us there then?” Liam demanded.
“I intended to go in there alone. I did not anticipate…” Talisa swallowed hard. “I did not anticipate that It would have a servant.”
“The man in the desert,” Ellie said. “The one who wanted to kill us and who went back to Liam as...as-”
Her eyes darted to Noah.
Talisa bit her lip. Her eyes were red. “Darkness had too strong a hold on him.”
“Where is he now?” Ellie asked nervously.
“He’s gone.”
“How did you know him?” Liam asked. He remembered how she’d clutched the lifeless animal tightly against her chest, her fingers tangled in the thick, reddish-brown fur.
He watched her blink away tears in the rearview mirror, suddenly just as vulnerable as the rest of the humans in the car. “Áłtsé hashké. Maii'. Coyote.”
For the first time, Ellie turned to face Talisa. “What do you mean, Coyote?”
“I saw him,” Liam said quickly. “I saw him change when he…” he saw Talisa’s face and trailed off.
“Change into what?” Ellie demanded.
“Into a coyote. Four legs, fur…” he was stammering now, realizing how absurd he sounded. “The point is, he can’t hurt you anymore.”
“He gave the sacrifice,” Talisa said.
Liam remembered the sound of his horrible wail just before he died from something no one could see. “Why did he do that?”
“For a gift, a sacrifice must be made. Darkness is cunning and all-consuming. He saved me.”
Ellie looked at both Talisa and Liam as if they had suddenly sprouted trees out of their heads.
“I believe it,” Noah said. He shifted carefully in his seat, leaning back against the headrest. Liam looked at him with concern. “It’s not the first weird thing we’ve seen.”
“I saw another animal person before,” Liam added. “Before we left Tucson, when I was downtown. A javelina family came through and I think one of them was scared of me. He confronted me, but not as an animal. As a person.”