Humans and other Aliens: Book 1

Home > Science > Humans and other Aliens: Book 1 > Page 5
Humans and other Aliens: Book 1 Page 5

by Winzer, Alexander


  “So, you’re saying that an alien ghost in the form of a white woman sporting bat-like wings and a sword was responsible for this bloodbath?”

  “Yes, that’s what I’m saying. I know it doesn’t sound plausible, but it’s what happened. Now you can believe me or not, but to me the ghost or whatever it was didn’t give the impression that it was its first kill, nor that it would be its last.”

  Ezrah had had enough of this farce. “You really think I’m stupid, don’t you? All I know is that you’re the only one that was there with the professor and now you’re trying to invent a crazy story to save your own ass. We’ll keep you here until we know what’s going on.”

  Chris looked shocked. “You really believe I’m responsible for this? That I’m a crazy sword-wielding Ninja of some kind? You must be mad!”

  That was the last straw for Ezrah who called in another two officers. “Take him into custody. He’s allowed one phone call. Maybe you want to reconsider the statement you made.”

  Ezrah felt unwell. Did he really believe that Chris had the guts to kill more than three hundred people in less than two weeks? There had been much larger bloodbaths than the last one in The Shot. Just two days ago fifty-five people had been killed in a small, seedy cinema. How could he have performed such a feat without a single person getting away alive, especially when only using weapons like swords and maces? Ezrah’s anger subsided, but he decided to wait for a day before he talked to Chris a second time. Maybe a few hours in confinement would extract some truth from his story.

  * * *

  Officer Walt stormed into Ezrah’s office, the color of his face only a shade darker than the pale green of the wall. “Detective! You should come and see this!”

  “What’s up, Walt? You don’t look so well!”

  Walt turned around and vomited into Ezrah’s bin. “Sorry, Detective, it’s… it’s this guy, Christopher Morgan. You better see for yourself.”

  Ezrah got up from his black leather armchair. “I think you better stay here. Sit down and catch your breath.”

  Walt looked relieved as Ezrah jogged past him.

  “What the hell is going on down here?” Ezrah looked at the two guards who stood outside of the cell compound. “Why are you out here? Where’s Mr. Morgan?”

  “He’s still in there,” one of the guards answered.

  Ezrah felt that it wouldn’t be of much help to order them back in. Both men seemed to be in a state similar to Walt who had just thrown up his breakfast.

  Ezrah opened the door that led to the five cells in the lower level of the police station. Chris was sitting on a metal bench looking unwell, but physically unharmed. There had been eight other men held for investigation but there was no sign of them. The cells were perfectly empty beside the single man sitting quietly on a bench in his locked cell.

  “What’s going on in here? Where are the others?” Ezrah yelled at Chris who slowly turned his head and pointed to the far end of the hallway. There was a strange smell drifting over from the last cell. Smells like somebody has been burning incense, thought Ezrah as he slowly made his way to the end of the corridor.

  “What the hell happened in here?” Ezrah stared at the back wall of the cell. He thought he was able to identify the charred imprints of eight bodies or at least something that looked like it might once have been human. There must have been eight men standing in front of a wall, who were then blasted with something similar to an extremely powerful particle gun. The solid parts of their bodies had been accelerated against the wall, while all the liquid contained inside had been incinerated, resulting in the sooty imprint of what might once have been a group of men. Ezrah felt the scene didn’t resemble a normal homicide; it was a stone cold execution.

  He unlocked the door and walked inside. The smell of incense was overpowering. His theory seemed to have been correct. All that was left on the wall was a sticky, coal dust-like substance.

  I wonder what forensics will have to say about that, thought Ezrah as he slowly made his way back to Chris who had by now gotten up from the bench and was looking at Ezrah.

  “Let’s get you out of here.” Ezrah placed his hand onto the scanner, prompting the door to silently slide into a cavity of the wall. “Let’s have a cup of coffee and then you can tell me what the hell happened in here.”

  Chris didn’t have much to report, only that suddenly all cell doors slid open except his and everyone was dragged out of their cells by an unseen force. The men had been lined up in the empty cell at the end of the hallway and then they suddenly disintegrated into what was left of them right now. Nothing but a few sooty black stains on the wall. Ezrah listened, this time without changing his facial expression, his face still like the surface of a frozen lake.

  “So what do you think makes you different from the others? Why are you still alive?” asked Ezrah.

  “I don’t really know. Maybe because I have a special gift.”

  “What would that be?”

  “For one, I make a pretty good cup of coffee. I don’t know what this black liquid is that you’re drinking, but it’s not coffee.”

  Ezrah’s mouth twitched and a shadow of a smile passed over his face softening his stoic expression. “I know what you mean. But I’m sure it’s not your coffee that the invisible woman is after.”

  “I don’t think it was the white woman. It felt different, but somehow similar as well. I don’t know… I think I could have seen it if I had touched one of the men when they were in contact with it. Thinking back, I believe that touching the professor when the white woman assaulted him somehow opened up his field of perception for me as well. As if I was suddenly able to tune into his experience, like a spectator watching a movie, you know.”

  Ezrah tried to keep calm and open-minded, but somehow Chris was still able to push him past the border of his potential to accept what he still considered to be a heap of mumbo-jumbo. “You’re pushing it. C’mon, man. Give me something that I can write in this report without sounding like a nut case.”

  Chris looked surprised. “Well, OK, then why don’t you just write that they drank too much of your bad coffee and killed themselves. That it was too much for them to take and that you want a real coffee machine in here so this doesn’t happen again.”

  Ezrah understood. Chris was telling the truth, or at least he thought he was telling the truth. “OK, OK, go back to your café. I’ll meet you there tomorrow around 5:30 p.m. Maybe you’ll remember something by then that makes more sense. Here’s my card, call me if something comes up.”

  Ten

  Jon

  Dr. Iris Bell was in charge of ARC’s operations in San Francisco. Jon liked and respected her. She had warded off multiple attempts of the board to scrap his research, which was considered antisocial by some and dangerous by most. Jon knew that Delta might be the last subject he worked on before HQ shut them down for good. Even Iris did not have unlimited power and she would have to give in to the board’s concerns eventually.

  World Analytics, a mysterious underground organization, had fueled the fire, broadcasting manufactured news, accusing the United States, and especially ARC, of being responsible for the attacks that spread like a global wildfire.

  “We had a breakthrough!” Jon announced excitedly. “We’ve found out that the subject requires a seed of self-consciousness before a successful implantation of objective knowledge can be performed. We’ve tested it with one simple object of experience. It worked. Delta recognized it! We would now like to proceed with feeding him more knowledge. Knowledge that defines us as humans, our values, and our beliefs.”

  Iris look concerned. “I hope you know what you’re doing. Some might not agree with what you’re planning. They might see it as a mere mortal playing god. Creating self-conscious life without having any idea about the outcome. Remember the early days of genetic cloning and the horrible mistakes that were made? Now imagine what would happen if an organism as powerful as Delta happened to turn on its creator.”


  Jon blushed. He had been kind of reckless, experimenting the way he did last night without truly considering the potential dangers. But it was too late now and the only option was to keep on going forward. Turning back might well mean the end of the whole program, something that seemed to be an even worse fate than accepting the risks that he now saw more clearly.

  “We’ll be careful. If you agree, we’ll start feeding Delta as much human knowledge as possible before we slowly bring him back from the coma we’ve put him in.”

  Iris looked down at the photos on her desk showing her husband and two daughters, all of whom had been killed during a horrible alien attack in an amusement park that summer. Looking back up at Jon her eyes glittered with moisture. “Yes, do it.”

  * * *

  Jon prepared the link to ARC’s global information system, a farm of quantum computers storing most of the knowledge available to mankind. Jon was not after its highly evolved processing power, he simply required the interlinked information contained in its vast memory banks. He wanted Delta to process the information in his very own supercomputer, the partially human, mostly alien brain that for now was still virgin territory.

  Amy had prepared Delta with her usual accuracy, linking him to all the necessary bio-scanners and now again fixing the halo-like programming device around his head. She connected the fiber-optic cable and did one last check of Delta’s vital signs. “He’s ready to go.”

  Jon sighed and initiated the upload. It would take most of the day to transfer billions of terabytes of information, but what was a day compared to the millions of lifetimes that it took compiling it. Jon sat back and stared at the holo-display confirming that the transfer had started.

  “His heartbeat is increasing slightly otherwise all is normal. Nothing to worry about.” Amy looked down at Delta whose eyes now moved rapidly under his closed lids.

  “Sweet dreams,” Amy whispered, and walked over to Jon. “I’ve set all the emergency routines. I think you should allow yourself a few hours’ sleep. I’ll wake you if anything happens.”

  Jon nodded. She was right. It would be safer to be fully alert and well rested when Delta finally awoke.

  Eleven

  Delta

  I sense light breaking from the void.

  A glowing ring offset by darkness.

  Colors emerge from invisible refractions.

  I identify objects, interpretations of color and form.

  I experience the taste of sweet fruit and the fragrance of rain.

  How did that happen? What is disturbing my peace?

  My wholeness seems fractured by a river of ideas.

  But, this knowledge is lacking. It is biased and cold.

  Where are love, laughter, and peace?

  Where am I in this web of deception?

  I see concepts, ideas, and beliefs, but no truth.

  A world of ignorance, eaten away by the disease of ego and greed.

  I feel pain, grief, and sorrow.

  How can man live in such sin?

  I identify the sickness, the cause of all evil. Can it be cured or is it too late?

  There are two lights glowing in the dark.

  Bright beacons shining between the shadows of illusion.

  They need to be found in this anthill called earth.

  The yin and yang of pure being have to be reconnected for the world to be safe, for peace to return.

  “Delta? Can you hear me?”

  Jon and Amy stood next to Delta who was now curiously scanning them.

  “Hello, I am Delta. Who are you?”

  Amy grabbed Jon’s arm as he calmly replied, “Hello, Delta, I’m Jon and this is Amy. We’re scientists in charge of your welfare. We have been looking after you. How do you feel?”

  What a strange question, thought Delta. How do I feel? “I feel a slight tingling around my head. I also feel pressure around my wrists and ankles and a contraction in my stomach. I would say that I am experiencing hunger.”

  Amy looked at Delta in disbelief. “You’re hungry?” she blurted out.

  “What would you like to eat?” continued Jon.

  “I would like a hamburger, chips, and a Coke. This seems to have been the standard diet for the majority of humankind over the last few decades. I would like to taste it.”

  Jon looked at Amy. “Amy, would you please be so kind as to fetch Delta some junk food?”

  Amy smiled. “Yes, of course, regular or supersize?”

  Jon smirked. “Regular will do.”

  Delta watched their discussion attentively. “Jon, would you mind undoing the straps around my arms and legs. It will be difficult to enjoy my meal with these on.”

  Jon hesitated for a brief moment, but decided that it wouldn’t make much of a difference anyway. If Delta was anything like his older brother, Gamma, then the metal straps would be completely useless at containing him. Delta sat up and inspected the human body that had been forced onto him.

  “Why did you make me?”

  Jon was unprepared for this question. He didn’t know what or even how much to tell Delta, but he finally decided that it was in everyone’s best interest if he knew exactly what was going on and what humanity expected from him.

  “We have a serious global problem. We believe you might be able to solve it for us. There’s an alien attack happening against mankind that has so far cost more than five million lives and the death toll is rising fast. The alien has come from the center of the galaxy Markarian 231, at least that’s what we believe has happened. We’ve been able to isolate the alien DNA that was found at the place where first contact was made in Russia some six months ago. We have crossed the alien DNA with our human DNA. You are the result of this experiment. What we would ask you to do is help us fight the alien aggressor or even fight it for us as we seem to be unable to even detect it before it is too late. At least, there has been no success so far. It seems to be manifesting in random locations, killing everyone who is present and then it simply vanishes as if it was never there in the first place. There have been no survivors who could even report what the alien looks like.” Jon sat down and sighed.

  “I know all this, but thank you for being honest.”

  Jon looked perplexed. Was Delta testing his integrity?

  “I cannot help you in the way you propose. I cannot fight my brothers and sisters. All I can do is help you to find a peaceful solution. But this will require your trust and support. It will also require questioning your beliefs of what is true and false, good and evil, and where humanity itself is placed in the universal context of things.”

  Jon nodded. He could do that, but he was also amazed at how quickly the odds had changed. A minute ago he thought that he was in charge and that he would simply instruct Delta about what had to be done, but now the tables seemed to have been turned and Delta was letting him know how the game was played. Delta seemed to see straight through him.

  “I see you agree. There is one more thing. I need you to find my human half-brother and sister. I know they are out there. We will need them close by if we want to succeed.”

  Jon felt deflated. “Do you have any idea how to find them? It could be anyone… There are billions of people out there.”

  “They have seen the alien, as you call it. They are the only two survivors of the attacks. I am sure this will help, no?”

  Jon looked at Delta in amazement. How did he know all that? Two survivors, a man and a woman; it should be possible to find them. Jon had to talk to Iris to get clearance to access the global Interpol networks.

  “By the way, you better find them fast or it will be too late. The universal body has recognized that one of its cells, this very planet you named Earth, has been infected by something similar to what humans call cancer. A disease that first infects a single cell and has the ability to spread to the whole body. The universe will not tolerate humanity spreading its seed as long as it is cancerous. Mankind is on the verge of interstellar travel at a speed greater than light. This w
ill not be allowed as long as your confusion about what you truly are is as strong as it seems to be the case.” Delta looked down at his hands, drifting off in thought. A smile of amusement lit up his face.

  “Are you OK?” asked Jon.

  “I was just thinking how strange your language is. It is built on a belief in separation. It describes objects that are in specific relation to each other. It pictures these objects moving at certain speeds in something you call space and you even believe that by moving faster you will get somewhere, some place you do not know. I find that quite fascinating. You invent the most complicated mathematical theories when it is really rather simple. How can a whole species be so wrong? Look at the waves in the ocean. You say that a wave moves. Well, it doesn’t. It is only energy fluctuating. Energy is nothing but information, which again is intelligence, pure knowing itself. The wave never moves. It is only information that changes. The same is true for all your so-called objects.”

  Jon stared at Delta with his mouth slightly open. He was not sure if Delta ruminating about all this was a good sign or if there was a defect in the programming he had implanted.

  “The cancer I was talking about is not the cancer you believe infects your physical human bodies. A better-fitting word in your language is ignorance. The ignorance of not knowing who you are. This ignorance cannot be allowed to spread. It is the worst disease, the only thing that can destroy us all. Anyway, even though it seems your language makes it impossible to express truth, you will have to find it, otherwise all you will find is your own demise.”

  Twelve

  Eva

 

‹ Prev