Divine Destruction (The Return of Divinity Book 1)

by Suggs, Lester

  “No Pappi,” Itishree said as that little girl.

  “That’s all right baby.” Her father said, stroking her hair and cheek in one motion. “Do you remember yesterday?”

  “Yes, we had those orange sweets after supper,” Itishree said.

  Her father laughed.

  “Yes, you liked those orange balls?” he asked.

  “Oh yes,” the younger Itishree shot back.

  “Today is yesterday's tomorrow,” he said. ”Understand?”

  “Yes,” she said. “One day compared to the next.”

  Itishree remembered her father giving her a huge smile then. The smile was warm and gentle. He pressed on, “Every day has a tomorrow, and as you imagine many tomorrows, you are in the future. Next week is the future, and when you start school again, that too is the future.”

  The miniature Itishree nodded.

  “What we don't know about the future is who or what will be in our futures or where we shall be when we arrive,” her father finished.

  Itishree's little brow furrowed as if her father had listed the first postulate of trigonometry.

  Her father smiled at her. “That’s not the important part of this lesson, daughter,” he said. “The important part to remember is be kind to those in your life today, this moment.”

  She had known her father was aware she wasn’t getting the lesson and Itishree attempted to pacify her father by nodding. The nods didn’t work.

  “You don't know if they will be in your tomorrow, and you don't wish any person, animal, or thing to be vengeful, angry, jealous, or unkind to you in any of your tomorrow's, do you?” he asked.

  Itishree looked toward Suresh in silence. Her gut wanted her to ask why he was there. Putting herself aside, Itishree thought carefully on her words. She knew that emotions, her's or Suresh’s, were beside the point now.

  “Suresh, thank you for coming tonight even though my best efforts were for you and I not to have this conversation,” Itishree said. Suresh inhaled but Itishree held up a finger to stop him. Suresh was in Itishree’s world now, and in her world, Itishree made the rules.

  “I am going to Pittsburgh,” She said. “For years I have been drawn to leaving my home, this place, my family and friends.” Again Itishree paused to think. She saw the look of desire wash across Suresh’s face.

  “I am going to Pittsburgh, and nothing will change my decision.” Instead of yearning, a fixed determination appeared on Itishree’s face. She felt the bittersweet joy seep through her. “I’ve felt, for this past year, the world has fallen into place to let me go,” she continued. “Every part of me wants this, Suresh.”

  She watched as Suresh deflated. His gaze crashed toward the lawn.

  Itishree reached out, touched his shoulder, and smiled. “This isn't about you or me. I’m leaving to do what the universe needs me to do, to a place and time I was meant to be,” she said. “Can you understand and be happy for me?” Itishree held her smile even as it became heavy on her soul.

  “I can,” Suresh replied quietly. With that Itishree let go of Suresh's shoulder and loneliness came to them both. One embraced the independence, the other shunned the emotional darkness.

  Itishree sat on the bench taking in the back yard without noticing it at all, staring into the mystery of her future. Suresh joined her. Itishree acknowledged the voices and music coming from the house. It was Suresh who spoke next.

  “I will miss you,” he said.

  Itishree's smile came back. “Thank you Suresh”. When the sound of those words mixed with her swirl of feelings Itishree realized she liked the sound of his name. She liked saying his name. Doubt came again.

  “Our parents have tried very hard to put us together,” she continued.

  “They’re good at that,” Suresh replied.

  After a short awkward pause, Itishree said, ”Let's go back inside, they'll think we finally ran off together.”

  “That would be fine by me,” Suresh unselfishly replied.

  “Stop that,” she said with another disarming smile as she stood and hoisted Suresh to his feet.

  “After I'm gone the girls will fall from the sky for you, you'll see.” She held onto his arm as they made their way back inside.

  “I’ll still miss you,” Suresh pined.

  “You’ll be fine,” Itishree reassured, with more petting. Doubt gone.

  As they came back into the folds of the party and Itishree let go of Suresh, she was glad he came. Itishree knew he was the one soul she needed to appease before she could put all of this behind her. For a moment, she felt guilt for hurting Suresh. But it had to be done. She wrapped herself within her conviction and pressed on into the celebration.

  Facing Reality

  Gabriel continued to chase the small blue dot ahead. His robotic version searched for the error. The instructions that brought out the scene of the river bank, and the children, from another universe could not have been possible. The instructions clearly indicated another contact with the vessel Griffin DeLuca to reinforce the connection between the himself and the vessel. He read the instructions over and over but found no code for containing the vessel within his mind, and allowing it to dwell within his duties on Banth. Within... HIS... mind. Gabriel's machine self began to look for “self.” Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. But the children, the riverbank, play, laughter, these memories had feeling to them. His feelings. HIS. There was a warmth there, a familiarity Gabriel could embrace. Inside the pure-energy coded mind, Gabriel reached for the bond. Nothing. The “self,” the container of awareness, wasn't available to hold any emotion whatsoever.

  For a while there was only travel. Gabriel's form raced through the solar system, thoughtless. No sound, no thought, only light from a single source. Gabriel let go of the sensation he could not know in this state - frustration. Immediately the code took over and reminded him of a priority task — make contact with the vessel, Griffin DeLuca, once more.

  It was late evening when the phone rang.

  “Doctor Lovas,” Frank said without effort.

  “Frank, Matt Fountain.” Frank stiffened. It was the special liaison to the White House, NASA Space Telescope Institute. And he was late calling in today. Matt’s update should have been in the morning. Frank felt his face flush.

  “Matt, you've left me with my thumb in my ass all afternoon. Why haven't you called me back until now?” Frank barked. He wasn't used to being angry at work.

  “I have military and Presidential advisors swimming around my desk like starving piranha.”

  “Sorry Frank, there has been in interesting development and I had to have this new data confirmed…”, Dr. Matt Fountain said, appearing to be apologetic. But Frank imagined Matt had an important update.

  “And just what is so fucking interesting, Matt?” Frank said.

  “Well, Frank there is good news, and interesting news. Which do you want shoveled first?” Matt shot back.

  “Give me the good news, after all I've waited all fucking day,” Frank said. He could feel himself giving in.

  Matt nearly walked on top of Frank's last with, "It's too small to survive the atmosphere. The JPL boys have had time to make precise measurements and whatever is inside the core of that comet is less than 10 meters across. Honestly, I don't see how it's made the journey this far without exhausting itself. It is theorized to be made out of metal or diamond.”

  Frank thought how interesting life would get if Pittsburgh had a fall rain of pure diamonds. There would be murders by the hundreds.

  “And the interesting news?” Frank asked.

  “It wobbles and changes speed,” Matt blurted out.

  Frank found himself standing again. "It fucking does what?" Frank heard Matt clear his throat.

  "We believe it has an irregular core shape which is causing it to wobble, change course slightly now and then, in no perceived pattern,” Matt continued. "The change in speed, actually slowing down, we can't seem to explain to my satisfaction. Some of my colleagues belie
ve it is because of the irregular shape. I'm not sold.”

  Frank pinched the bridge of his nose and asked, “Matt, what the fuck does that mean, exactly?”

  On the other end of the line, Matt paused. “Well, it could be from an irregular shape trapping solar wind, or small particle debris causing course and speed anomalies, the universe's smallest alien spacecraft, or I don't know. My money is on C for now, Frank,” Matt said with a teaspoon of sarcasm.

  “Okay, Matt... I must tell the stiffer collars around here the news, so what’s your official blurb du jour?”

  “Give them this, Frank,” Matt said. Frank heard him clear his throat a second time. “Very small asteroid with a solid core that will not survive the atmosphere. Should make a pretty light show over Kentucky and West Virginia, and a nice sonic boom over western Pennsylvania border, if it makes it that far. I would inform the Generals to avoid high altitude air sorties over the northern mid Atlantic unless they want pilots coming back with their suits skid marked.”

  Frank nodded and looked at the notes on his desk pad. “Matt, what are you telling the public?” He needed to relay this to the Presidential advisers too.

  “I’m going to let the FAA know to delay traffic to Cleveland, Pittsburgh, maybe Harrisburg in a specific time window. Have the commercial flights carry more fuel and do a couple of laps. That sort of thing. Flights between Chicago and New York will fly over the Great Lakes. Those going to St. Louis will get a good look at Tennessee,” Matt said with practiced ease, Frank noticed. "I'll make sure the news is leaked through our usual busybodies so the national TV news folks have something interesting to tell."

  Frank knew Matt liked being important on the national news. Matt would probably ensure he would be interviewed on at least two of the major networks. That NASA fathead, Frank mused. He needed to end this call and do the communication walk before he could leave for the night. “Matt, thanks for the call. Glad I don't have to tell the President a crater story.”

  “Get some sleep, Frank.” Matt had been around long enough to take the hint.

  Both hung up. Frank tightened his tie and left his office, dismissing the assistant on the way out. It was late. Frank ran through what he wrote down, now committed to memory. He rehearsed what he was going to report to the White House as he found a staircase. He wondered if he could make it home before dinner got cold.

  Earth filled Gabriel's view. God's messenger and weapon had been mindfully following a specific course. All had been given him on Heaven. Without conscious thought Gabriel merely had to fly in a straight line now, and the Earth would bring his target to him. Once near ground Gabriel would make contact with his vessel for a final location, dispel his energy, reform as a corporeal shape, and take a body for his work.

  Local Eastern Standard Time was 1:13 am.

  The Pan-STARRS array, Panoramic Survey Telescope and Rapid Response System, had been tasked to look for the small rogue comet, Green X2018d, at midnight EDT. Extra duty officers had stayed awake just as precaution. They were to report up the management chain incase Green X2018d was more than just another “non-event”. Showing the world America had everything under control.

  Gabriel had been at sub-light speed since inside Saturn's orbit and would be easy to track optically just above the stratosphere. As predicted an east coast array picked up Green X2018d, Gabriel, and began digitally tracking him. Computers slaved to telescopes reported information directly to NASA JPL, which was simultaneously shared to DARPA and a select few college campuses. This information was filtered, then leaked to local news outlets, and passed onto their master affiliate networks. By 1:31 am EST, networks began showing the video footage to over-caffeinated Americans.

  Three Minds in One

  At first, Itishree found flying exciting. This was going to be a new experience. She had traveled many times on trains in India but this was to be her first flight. Itishree found it impossible to break the smile from her face. The fuss in preparation before boarding lead up to an anxiety she had never felt before. At the security checkpoint, with her mother and brother looking on, Itishree had trouble finding her boarding pass. It was embarrassing. She had focused so much on having her identification readily available that she had forgotten where she had stored the boarding pass. Her smile fell away. She saw mother wanting to come to her aide, but Itishree held up a hand. She could do this. The fear of doing something, anything wrong was overwhelming. Itishree found the boarding pass and handed it to security official. After a sharp exhale, her smile returned.

  She found her way to the correct gate only having to ask for directions once. The uniformed gentlemen was kind and gave her excellent instruction. Itishree had regretted not being able to linger and ask the man about his uniform and how long had he worked at this airport. She wanted to ask, “What is flying like?” But she imagined how childish she would appear and walked away. Arriving with forty minutes to spare brought out a rewarding feeling. Itishree plopped herself down in a chair and relaxed, thinking on the last few hours.

  “So much crying,” Itishree said. Her mother, aunt, and sister had been human flood waters before leaving the house. To Itishree there was no unhappiness, only excitement. No, there was real joy! Part of her felt free for the first time since father died. Father. Father would be proud. After settling into the airport terminal Itishree was again overwhelmed not from the new experience, but from the varied rush of emotions. They had caught up to her at last. She looked around afraid some other traveler heard her sob. Her lower lip quivered once and she wiped her eyes.

  When the plane pulled up to the gate, Itishree felt the rush of excitement return. She was able to fixate on the comings and goings of the busy technicians servicing the plane, loading luggage, and refueling. She imagined their conversations as though they were speaking the American English of Pittsburgh. “Hi Ted, how are the kids?” “Fine, Bob, how's the wife?” “Do you think the river will flood this fall?” “Oops,” thought Itishree, maybe American rivers didn't flood regularly? Her imaginings carried her away for a time. Then, Itishree found herself thinking about herself as an experienced world traveler even though she had yet to step inside the aircraft she was smiling down on through the terminal window.

  Now, after flying non-stop for twelve hours to Heathrow and nearly missing her connecting flight to Pittsburgh, Itishree just wanted to put her feet on solid ground and walk for a week. Her legs were cramping from sitting. Her stomach seemed up-side-down from the rapidly changing food the flight was serving. The further from Pune Itishree was, the stranger the food and the less she ate.

  Thankfully, everyone she met had been kind. Genuinely kind. The staff of Jet Airways and British Airways were beyond accommodating, making efforts to ensure she and other passengers were as comfortable as flying around the world in a can could be.

  However, now aboard USAir flight 729, Itishree felt like a foreign sack of grain on a ship sailing for nowhere. When itishree started out on this journey, which seemed like a week ago, she felt she was a native in a native land. Now, looking around the cabin, she felt strange, small, afraid.

  To make everything worse the crew of the American plane didn’t seem to share Itishree’s need to get to Pittsburgh. Instead of fending off offers of more pillows, blankets, food, drink, and idle conversation as on the India flight, Itishree felt she had to interrupt staff from important meetings going on out of sight. Itishree could not determine from where the crew was making busy time. They would appear on a set schedule to offer refreshments and then seemed to leave the plane.

  At least she had a window seat. The first window seat over her new country. When leaving London, the window was everything. Itishree was engrossed by the world zooming by below her. She imagined conversations of the people she saw from the distance. Casual salutations over a park, to conversations between loved ones filled her head. As the altitude grew her mind expanded away from the individuals. Itishree imagined meetings within buildings, to city planners hundreds of years ago, t
o farmers comforting herds, and the land fell away. And there was only water. Hours and hours of blue-green emptiness. Never had she taken in so much in such a short time. And all had come through this tiny window. Her tiny window.

  "Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your Captain,” began the announcement. “We are twenty minutes out from Philadelphia International Airport and will begin our descent.” Itishree was trying to think of which god to thank. “I ask that you return to your seats and fasten your seat belts. Thank you for flying with USAir.”

  “We could have walked around casually?” Itishree thought as she elevated herself in her seat, feeling the bite of the restraints. She glowered at the nearest steward.

  Itishree was happy to be in the terminal. Her entire body ached from the hours sitting and sleeping. She saw from her ticket she had a ninety minute layover before the flight to Pittsburgh. Itishree checked her papers and made sure she had the documents required to pass through customs and get back to her next gate. Customs turned out to be a minor obstacle given the late hour local time. Only two agents had been on duty sharing a single line that had formed by the few passengers changing flights.

  Itishree was greeted and welcomed to America by a Mr. Phelps. He was a charming older man with wild eyebrows and an animated smile. Their chat was brief and then Itishree found herself within the terminal plaza. “America,” Itishree mused. From what she could see from the customs exit, all the shops were closed. Looking around she saw a clock indicating 12:37. From the last few hours of flight she knew it was early morning, just past midnight. The darkened windows in the distance helped her ground herself. How many days had she been flying? What day was this? Itishree realized she was lost in time within the present. She was in a strange land in the middle of the night. The traveling would be over soon, Itishree thought. What was it they say in Texas? “Cowgirl up?”

  Within the mind-fog, beneath the tired soreness, under the boredom, was Itishree's raging sense of adventure. She pulled herself down from her mental cloud, threw back her shoulders, and looked around the terminal. The huge expanse was filled with quiet, unmoving air. Between the whispers of her fellow passengers Itishree could make out nothing. No sound coming from anywhere. Again, she looked to remember the surroundings and her way back to customs. With unchecked curiosity and a pang of loneliness, Itishree followed the small crowd of freed flyers. Within a few meters Itishree took in delightful smells. “Food, real food,” a small voice inside her was singing and dancing. After rounding a corner there was an open coffee shop selling, breakfast pastries, giant pretzels, and small pies. A queue already formed. Itishree let out a squeal, and joined the others.