The Kota

by Sunshine Somerville

  Copyright © 2017 Sunshine Somerville

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from Sunshine Somerville.

  www.SunshineSomerville.com

  2nd Edition

  Books by Sunshine Somerville

  The Kota Series

  The Prophet: Intro to The Kota Series – FREE!

  The Kota

  The Ebonite and Her Earthling

  Pharmakon

  Zenith Prophecies

  The Kota Series Companion Stories

  The Woman of the Void

  The Poet Heroic

  Ebon (2018)

  A Fairly Fairy Tale

  The Alt-World Chronicles

  Alterni (2018)

  Malevolenci (2018)

  Origini (2018)

  Dedication

  To Christian, Kaly, and Luke. Here’s a compact story from our childhood creation gone mad.

  Thanks for being my very own versions of Rave, Tigris, and Whitewolf.

  Chapter Guide

  Map

  Prologue

  Part I – The Virus Prophecy and the Signal Prophecy

  1 “It’s Rome all over again”

  2 “Dominos”

  3 “Something’s happened”

  4 “Some Kota prophet’s wacky dream journal”

  5 “Good riddance”

  Part II – The Bearers Prophecy and the Interceder Prophecy

  6 “Five hundred years”

  7 “Who’s to say”

  8 “Let whatever happens happen”

  9 “Take care of them”

  Part III – The Warriors Prophecy

  10“I’m an enigma”

  11 “Return to Earth”

  12“Time for a nervous breakdown”

  13“Join me”

  14“More than hiding”

  15“Gunning for a fight”

  16“Together now”

  17“Destiny mumbo jumbo”

  18“Synchronized watches”

  Part IV – The Mark Prophecy

  19“A card to play”

  20“How to fulfill our Warrior mission”

  21“Time to get to work”

  22“The drone farm”

  23“Rescuing the un-factors”

  24“Secrets”

  Part V – The Great War Prophecy

  25“More than one kind of explosion”

  26“Gray area”

  27“The turning point”

  28“This could mean the end”

  29“Take us in easy, Whitey”

  Thank You for Reading

  Excerpt: The Ebonite and Her Earthling (The Kota Series Book 2)

  About the Author

  Map of Earth

  Prologue

  As I look back on our history, I wonder why we did it to ourselves. I wonder why the bloodshed, the destruction, or the terror of war had to be. Perhaps the most troubling fact is that there’s no single point in time to blame. Think back. The conduct of Cain and Abel was not a one-time occurrence, nor was that of Romulus and Remus or the Karamazov brothers. Two brothers formed into different races so that, in time, the races didn’t even remember they were of the same blood. Each man ran to his own corner of existence, forming his own world and calling all others alien. We refused to serve the greater good, instead blinding ourselves to how connected we were. Everyone suffered for our selfishness.

  We lost respect for our world as well. We strove to dominate what we weren’t wise enough to understand. Every gift given to us, we abused. And each generation’s bite of the forbidden fruit brought us closer to hell on earth. I suspect somewhere in the back of our minds we never really believed things would get out of our control, but we paved and painted our own road to destruction. That’s the downside of free will – even as our world crumbled under our pounding fists, mankind still had the twisted right to destroy himself.

  However, there’s an upside to free will. Just as we’re given the freedom to choose evil, so we’re given the freedom to choose good. We always have a choice. Free will can bring us to dust as a species, or it can bring us to redemption. We have the power to change mankind’s daily fate for better or for worse, and we’re never abandoned if we seek to serve.

  Something bigger than ourselves always has a plan and offers a grander purpose. If we love others, if we respect what we shouldn’t control, if we acknowledge that maybe we have a greater purpose – then we become part of something bigger than ourselves and find blessings we never imagined.

  And that brings us to these last days.

  I myself am not immune to man’s pride, but I’m blessed with objective hindsight in ways you can’t yet imagine. If you learn one thing from my recorded history, I hope it’s this: However far we’ve fallen from what we’re meant to be, there’s always a way back to the path that will benefit us if we’re willing. Specifically, this record will tell the story of four heroes given a choice. They were flawed. They could’ve horded their gifts. But they chose to fight for humanity. They chose to sacrifice everything for what was right.

  Learn from their lives. Open your eyes to a purpose bigger than yourself. Trust, and let whatever happens happen.

  Part I

  The Virus Prophecy and the Signal Prophecy

  __________

  1

  “It’s Rome all over again”

  I had the good fortune to be born during the human civilization’s peak of prosperity. My parents named me Troy Kandoya after a great-uncle I never knew. (Looking back, I find this a tad ironic considering how important my role as an uncle would become.) We lived comfortably, but that wasn’t unusual for the majority of Earth’s population. A fair level of peace united the nations – resulting, as is the course of history, from previous years of war. Scientific technology progressed faster than anyone could’ve predicted a century before, and humanity thought there was nothing new or of interest left to learn. We were already so wise and our knowledge so impressive. The leading economies flourished, and the common people’s lives were characterized by what the upper classes of the past centuries could only have dreamed.

  It goes without saying that occasional troubles arose, but these were smoothed over so that they barely ruffled normal life. A sporting event or comparable triviality might delay for a day or two, but soon life continued as scheduled. I myself coasted along through my routine, tranquil days, and everyone around me meandered through a similar existence. We took comfort, but no real pleasure, in the illusion that life was good as long as work paid the bills and recreation filled the gaps between.

  Then, in one day, the illusion ended.

  I remember that morning well. I woke as always at 5:30 a.m., dressed for work, and as I did so I glared at my reflection. I was beginning to age, although only in my early forties. I’d never been particularly attractive as a younger man, but I was happy with my sturdy frame, square jaw, and gray eyes. Friends, or should I say colleagues, said I looked as every career-driven individual in a suit and tie should look. I rather enjoyed this description.

  But I’ll end my life if I turn gray before I turn fifty, I thought as I straightened my tie.

  “The DRK virus,” the reporter was saying on my phone’s news app, “is named for the three virologists who first isolated the virus. They themselves weren’t its creators, and no one knows where this virus came from. Sources say it could be the newest in biological we
apons.”

  I glared at my phone.

  Sure, I thought, except for the flaw in that theory where the DRK is infecting everyone, internationally. It’s incurable, sweeping across Eurasia at an alarming rate. If someone created this thing to be a weapon, why aren’t they claiming responsibility for the carnage?

  “But they’re also saying,” said another reporter on the show, “the DRK is a bi-product of undisclosed experiments gone wrong. If this nasty thing was a government-funded accident, it might be the worst one in history. Based on what little data the CDC has released, this virus is capable of wiping out the entire Eurasian population in less than fifty years.”

  “Wherever the DRK came from,” said the first reporter, “the proper Euro authorities should’ve gone in when the infections started. They might’ve stopped the DRK virus before it spread to this extent. It’s out of control now! Why aren’t people talking about this? We need to wake up. Take this seriously.”

  I gave my reflection one last inspection. “Time for work.”

  Tripping over my wolfhound, Toto, I hurried through my scarcely furnished bachelor pad to the door. When I stepped out into the cool morning air, I descended stairs to the sidewalk. I needed all the exercise I could get and so walked every morning to the Capitol House where I worked. The new building had been constructed to match improvements in the rest of the capital. Admiring the city, I was grateful for the chance to roam the streets on my way to work. I knew the risks facing a well-dressed man walking downtown, so I always carried protection in the form of legal pepper spray. I also took a different route each day. My paths varied so I alternately crossed the gardens, the shopping center, or the soup kitchen where I sent a monthly donation.

  The choice of which trail to take was sadly the highlight of most mornings.

  I remember my feeling of personal completion as I arrived at the Capitol House that morning. I underwent the required security checks before entering the main lobby and ambling my way to the Communications Department. Passing open office doors of several busy colleagues, I saw a few raise hands in distracted greeting. Phones rang, and interns scrambled around their cubicles to complete dozens of tasks at once.

  The familiar hum of overhead lights greeted me as I entered my private office. Once inside, I closed the door, tossed my briefcase on a side table, and sat behind my desk to activate my computer.

  My assistant came in, smacking her gum, and plopped a manila envelope in front of me. “Here.”

  “What’s this?”

  “The CDC’s newest test results on the DRK virus. You asked for them first thing, remember? The Health Department sent them over earlier this morning.”

  I reached for the envelope. “Right.” I slit the top. “Thanks.”

  She left as I pulled out the contents. Glaring at my glasses, I held the papers away from my face to examine the test results. They weren’t good – I could tell that at once by the percentages I read.

  President Weaver had requested that the CDC investigate the ramifications of a DRK outbreak on American soil. A special division of the Health Department received regular reports from the CDC. I, by some stroke of chance, was selected as the official liaison between the Communications Department and the Health Department on this issue. Therefore, everything came to me and I in turn figured out how to present the information. The only problem was, I had a minimal background in medicine (one semester at the University of Michigan) and no idea what to pass along to the press secretary.

  I winced as I looked at a picture of an infected man.

  The DRK didn’t kill, but those infected lost their sense of humanity and became raving, conscienceless zombies. (This wasn’t exactly the scientific account of the virus’s result, but it was my conclusion as I looked at the photo before me.) The infected man’s eyes were bloodshot, his grayish skin was covered in a fungus, his dark veins bulged, and his hair had fallen out. He looked like every other infected patient I’d seen photographed. These people were labeled as ‘factors’ simply because ‘unknown event factor’ was how the early scientists had first noted the mutations. Every case of infection ended the same. The CDC’s tests showed that the time span between contraction and dehumanization was very short, and no amount of medication made a difference. Once factored, you stayed factored. No one had a DRK cure.

  And they thought HIV was bad, I thought.

  I rubbed my face and let out a long breath.

  As technologically advanced as we were, our main threat was still biological. Those reporters were right; the DRK was serious. If this was a biological weapon, we were screwed. If it was an out-of-control accident, we were screwed. But few in America cared. No one would until it reached our own backyards.

  It’s sad, I thought, but a person dying on the late night news isn’t as threatening as a sick neighbor. But how long before the virus strikes here? We need to prepare.

  Around 11:00 a.m., I heard mumbling outside my office. Irritated, I walked to my door and opened it to find my assistant talking with one of my colleagues. It was Aaron, an egotistical camera-hog rarely seen performing actual work. He wore a tailored suit, flag pin, and polished shoes. He was taller than me, but I could smell the gel in his slicked back, blond hair.

  My assistant paused her flirting and noticed me. “Oh. There you are.”

  I faced Aaron. “Is there something you need? I’m not working on the press-release data, if that’s what you’re looking for. I sent that to your office with…” I stopped when I saw the look on his face and raised my eyebrows. “What?”

  Aaron blinked at me. “Troy, have you looked outside this morning?”

  It was then I noticed the red glow coming from the window behind my assistant’s desk. I can’t say why I took so long to notice the unnatural light. Maybe I confused it for my assistant’s many-colored lamp (I’d asked her repeatedly to remove this, but she never did, knowing I couldn’t fire her because of who her father was.) In any case, I followed Aaron’s suggestion and stepped to the window to see outside.

  In the sky, a red and yellow cloud hung over the park leading to the Capitol House. Examining it further, I saw that it wasn’t truly a cloud. It looked as if someone had tried to patch a gigantic hole in the sky from the other side. Simply no sky existed where the bright, red and yellow lights swirled. The edges of the thing were sharp and abrupt where it met the rest of the atmosphere.

  Back on the ground, armed officers sealed off the park below the cloud of light. Tourists crowded on the perimeters, gazing up at the lights and taking pictures.

  I bet video of this thing’s already online, I thought.

  “What is that?” I looked back at Aaron and saw equal befuddlement in his expression. “Is the president evacuating the building?”

  “No, the public would freak out. We’re closing off the park, but I don’t think anyone knows what’s going on. We haven’t released a statement yet.”

  My assistant hung up the phone. “President Weaver wants to see you in her office pronto.”

  I hadn’t even heard it ring. “What for?”

  “She didn’t say.”

  I paused in confusion, nodded, and walked through the maze of desks toward the main hall. Passing cubicles, I noticed several people either on their phone or watching the television screens projected around the office. Everyone looked restless.

  As I entered the main hall, a Secret Service agent met me. He waved me on without much interest once he recognized me – he too was distracted by what hung in the sky outside. I then turned down a tiled, well-lit hall and stopped before a set of double oak doors. Straightening my tie, I knocked before entering.

  President Weaver sat at a wide desk that stood before an enormous window. Omar Abbas, head of the World Space Program’s Euro division, sat in a stuffed chair opposite the desk. The dark-skinned man wore an expensive suit and fidgeted with a gold ring as he looked out the room’s window. A fly buzzed somewhere around the chandelier, but no other sound filled the room. The pr
esident and her guest ignored me as they looked outside, and I now saw the cloud of lights from this better vantage point.

  I’m known for keeping a level head in the midst of a crisis, I thought. Maybe the president wants me to start working on something pertaining to this light cloud…thing.

  I stepped forward and chose a chair beside Mr. Abbas.

  The president finally turned in her seat to face us. A golden pin neatly held back her short, graying hair, but the bags under her eyes gave the impression she was stressed beyond her norm. “I assume you’ve seen the news, Kandoya?”

  “Yes, Madam President. Do we know what it is?”

  “No,” she said bluntly. “Within an hour of its appearance, the media came up with a story of their own. They’re claiming the lights are from a weather control satellite that’s casting light rays into the atmosphere. Ridiculous, but the public is content with the media’s story for now. Unfortunately…” She waved to the foreigner. “Omar.”

  “It’ll be difficult to keep that story running.” Mr. Abbas’s accent reminded me he was from the interior of Eurasia, the region where the DRK virus was widespread.

  I shifted away from him in my seat. “Why’s that?”

  “China will soon release news that an identical light burst appeared in their skies. Also, a third one hangs over one of our Euro states.”

  I widened my eyes in surprise.

  Mr. Abbas nodded. “Our WSP satellites scanned the rest of the globe, but we’ve only discovered these three light anomalies. Still, three of these things are enough to cause mass hysteria, since no one knows what they are. Every World Space Program division is working on it, but so far we don’t have answers.”