Overture (Earth Song)

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Overture (Earth Song) Page 2

by Mark Wandrey


  As she rode the elevator down to the basement parking garage, a smile stole its way onto her face. She was remembering the trip when she found both her first love, and her second love. Her then boyfriend had talked her into joining him for a month during the summer that he spent as student intern at the Mt. Laguna Observatory outside San Diego. She had considered it a foolish waste of time but went along anyway because she was falling in love.

  Students were not supposed to bring animals or girlfriends along on these trips, but she was not the only uninvited guest at the intern’s lodge that summer. Many of the interns did not sleep alone. To her boyfriend’s chagrin he slept alone while she slept in a cot a few feet away. He spent his evenings watching a screen displaying the image captured by the 24” telescope; she sat next to him and kept him company while catching up on her magazine reading. She remembered silently thanking God she’d never taken astronomy.

  Then something startling happened. The telescope focused on the Great Crab Nebula for quick image clarification adjustment. The nebula was nearby and the brightest object available. When Mindy glanced up from her month-old copy of People magazine the large high definition LCD screen showed the distant nebula in all its spectacular detail. Her jaw dropped and her magazine slid to the floor unnoticed. “What is that?!” she asked in awe.

  “A nebula,” he had told her with the indifference of someone who had seen it a hundred times.

  “It’s beautiful,” she said, moving even closer to take in the entire image. He lifted an eyebrow and used the computer to call up some archived images from the observatory’s logs. Her breath came in gasps and her eyes got so wide they hurt. Some of the images she had seen before, but never in this large or sophisticated of a display. The images were breathtaking. She was hooked.

  As the days of her boyfriend’s internship passed, she was inexplicably drawn into the wonders of astronomy. Hours after he left the observatory she was still there, sitting with the next shift of interns, watching what they did and reading their books. Two weeks later she'd learned more about astronomy than her boyfriend had learned in two years. The summer internship ended and he left without her. Mindy was granted her own internship at the observatory. A month later she changed her college to the University of San Diego, and her major to Astronomy. She had finally found her passion. “Wonder what ever happened to that boy,” she thought as she climbed into her aging car and drove from the garage. Being a customs broker wasn’t so bad. It was certainly better than working for a living.

  The streets of Portland were nearly deserted, as would be expected on a late Sunday evening. As she pulled onto I-5 and aimed her car south she heaved a sigh of relief to be heading home. The house they'd shared for a few months was only ten miles south of downtown, but it was far enough to make for comfortable rural living. Knowing Jake was there with her made it even more enjoyable. For the first time in five years she was beginning to enjoy herself again.

  As she left the last mini mall behind she passed a large hill on her left. She did her best not to look, though as usual found her head turning to gaze up at the peak. She saw the same concrete domed observatory every day. With it came the same feelings of loss and resentment. As Mindy continued south she stole a final glimpse of the structure in her rear view mirror before turning a corner and leaving the view behind. There were times that being a customs broker felt like the worst job in the world.

  Victor sat on a bench just out of range of a streetlight, curious about what was going on in the center of the meadow. One of the park’s largest open areas, it was more than two hundred yards across and from where he sat, all Victor could see was a bright glare of light. There didn’t seem to be anyone else watching, but it was hard to tell because of the stark difference between light and dark. With the casual indifference of a person still under the influence, he stood up and strolled across the damp grass.

  The closer he got, the more intense the light became. As he got closer, Victor could hear strange humming and buzzing sounds coming from near the source. The brightness of the lights and the unusual way they seemed to move made him think it was a movie set. There were film crews around Central Park almost every week. He and his friends were experts in mooching snacks and other perks from the Hollywood types. The thought of free food emboldened him, so he moved still closer. The light was now so intense it held him back like a physical wall. It left him even more confused.

  He began walking around the source to see if it was less intense from the other side, but instead found himself back where he started. It was uniform from all sides. “This is strange, man” he said. Victor looked around to be certain no one was watching him, then he closed his eyes and tried to walk toward the light. It was so powerful it hurt right through his eyelids. In a few steps, he fell to his knees and covered his eyes with his hands.

  “It can’t be that bright,” he mumbled, getting up and turning before swiping at the dew clinging to his worn jogging suit. Frustrated, he yelled “Who’s there?” Instantly the lights went out. Plunged into sudden darkness, Victor spun and stumbled backwards, preparing to run.

  There was a whine followed by a bone-chilling reverberation and then all was silent. Emboldened by not having a security guard come running at him, Victor yelled, “What are you doing in there? I’m going to call the po-po!”

  His night vision was slowly returning. Where the lights had been blazing, now appeared one of the many Central Park statues, and a lone figure standing beside it. The figure was not quite as tall as a man, had a body that somewhat resembled a horse, and was using strangely jointed arms ending in three digit fingers to hold a glowing rod. Its head turned toward him and Victor felt a jolt of fear and disgust as he found himself looking at a head with no nose, no mouth, and a pair of lidless almond-shaped eyes.

  “What are you?” Victor moaned. The thing regarded him briefly with its shiny eyes before turning. It walked fluidly on its four legs to the statue, which resembled a marble column and pointed the glowing rod. The center of the statue pulsed deep purple. Victor was becoming less terrified and more amazed by the moment. He’d seen this kind of special effects in movies, but some part of him knew it took many hours and a powerful computer to make it believable. This was live, here, in Central Park.

  The statue became a dais fifteen feet wide and ten feet deep, and shaped somewhat like the eyes of the strange creature. The sloped sides were smooth and only interrupted by cuts up both long sides for three steps. “What are you?” Victor asked the creature for the second time. The creature took several steps towards the strange glowing apparition. Victor shook his head against the improbability of such a thing walking as its joints worked in directions and ways Victor had never thought possible. It made the glowing rod disappear into a small pouch worn around its waist, and turned back to regard him once more. Though it had no mouth, Victor imagined it was smiling. Its head gave a disturbingly human nod and it turned, walking gracefully up the three steps to the top of the dais.

  Its feet had three knobby toes and no visible nails. Victor was marveling at how they adapted to the steps when the creature was thrown into stark relief. A brilliant white circle of light had sprung into life over the dais. Within that circle floated a myriad of constantly changing symbols. As Victor watched, the creature reached and touched one of the symbols. It changed its shape as the being twisted it and then pulled the design along the surface of the circle like someone dragging an icon on a computer desktop. When it reached another symbol, the big circle flashed purple and there was a new scene. Through the astonishing portal awaited a strange green-tinted sky in daylight. He looked away and the park was still dark as night.

  Victor opened his mouth to say something but the creature had already stepped into the image to arrive on the other side. “Holy fuck,” he said as the being walked down the steps on the opposite side and out of view. Victor moved sideways to try and bring it back into focus, but then the tableau flashed and disappeared leaving only the milky, white d
ais behind.

  With legs that quivered from pent up energy, Victor walked up the ramp. As his foot touched the top, the brilliant white circle jumped into existence again. Only now there was no sign of the strange world on the other side. He examined the circle and its smaller cousins with difficulty. They were glowing brightly and the park was dark. There were pictures like drawings floating around the edge of the big circle, images that reminded him of the symbols the Egyptians had used in their pyramids. From somewhere behind him came the warble of a police car moving in his direction.

  Victor wanted to leave, afraid of being caught at this strange site, but something made him stay. The approaching police car must have seen the unusual statue because its powerful spotlight suddenly illuminated him and the structure. He shielded his eyes from the glare and turned away.

  “Hey, what the hell is this thing? What are you doing out here at this time of night?” Victor turned to see the cop car parked only a few yards away. Both the officers were standing in front of their vehicle and taking in the scene.

  He just shook his head. “There ain’t no way you’re gonna believe me.”

  Lieutenant Billy Harper tried to ignore the sounds of screaming and crashing from the Monday morning battle upstairs as he browsed the Times and waited for his coffee to cool. If it was just a Monday morning thing he wouldn’t mind so much, however the Parkers only fought on days that ended with the letter y. Eight years with the NYPD had taught him the futility of calling anyone to deal with domestics. Twenty million people lived within twenty-five miles of where he drank his coffee. At this moment there were probably a half million loud arguments going on.

  His coffee finished, he folded his paper under his arm and headed for the door of his tiny one bedroom Bronx apartment. “Have a nice day,” he said toward the raging argument upstairs as he locked the deadbolts and trotted down to the bottom floor. Outside his unmarked unit waited where he’d parked it. There were a lot of cops in this city who couldn’t take a unit home. If they did it came back in pieces. Billy had lived in this neighborhood most of his life and knew his neighbors well. They watched out for him and he watched out for them. If anyone messed with his unit, it would be a mistake.

  “Morning, Billy!” called a familiar voice from the brownstone two doors down.

  “Good morning Mr. Nebowitz, how are you today?”

  “Better than yesterday. You be careful out there!”

  “Always, Mr. Nebowitz, always!”

  Once in the car, he signed onto his computer and logged into service. As usual, there were a hundred or more duty assignments available for a Lieutenant in the NYPD Criminal Investigation division. He closed his eyes and stabbed one of the red, or high priority, calls and read the data. Breaking and entering was the complaint. As the computer printed out a hard copy of the case report for his clipboard he started the car and headed uptown.

  Billy had been investigating every manner of robbery and petty larceny for five hours straight and was looking for a bite to eat when he spotted a familiar face. The marked unit was parked next to three others at a midtown intersection so he pulled up to see what was going on.

  “Oh shit, the fuckin’ brass has arrived!” one of the men moaned in mock disgust.

  “Better polish our badges,” another officer said and fished a napkin from his pocket to rub his already spotless shield. These were men that Billy had come up with and they all knew him either personally or by reputation. He was one of them who had just happened to change his shield to gold.

  “What’s going on boys, get tired of beating up school girls?”

  “Yeah, we couldn’t find any around so we started working on pretzels instead.” Billy laughed and accepted a coke with a fresh pretzel. “You been listening to the radio lieutenant?”

  “No, been too busy chasing snatch and grabs in the Korean district. What’s going on?”

  The men showed him the portable TV they had all been watching. He stared at the pictures while ravenously devouring the pretzel. Central park was surrounded with dozens, maybe hundreds of police units including tactical vans, special services, and what looked like an FBI team. “They find a high profile stiff?” he asked the men. None of them had a clue, and that in itself was a major statement. The only phenomenon documented to exceed the speed of light was a rumor in the NYPD field service.

  “Hey lieutenant, you got the gold shield, why don’t you tell us?” He considered getting on the phone to make some inquiries, but decided it was better to be direct. Tossing the remnants of his pretzel into a garbage can he climbed into his unit and checked for duty assignments in Central Park. Sure enough, there was a call for a lieutenant in Criminal Investigation. He waved to the men and drove off toward Central Park.

  By the time he arrived, the single FBI unit he had seen on TV had grown to a dozen. In addition a pair of heavy lift helicopters was dropping in a huge trailer bristling with antennas onto the grass. His fellow NYPD outnumbered the government agents by at least a hundred to one. He only added to the crowd.

  “What are you doing here, Harper?” asked a captain in homicide. “Just looking for whoever is in charge, I answered a call unlike most of the blue shirts here.” The captain chuckled and pointed out an NYPD tactical truck parked a short distance away. “Thanks, captain.”

  “Oh, and Harper? It’s Assistant Chief Niedelmeir.”

  “What? Where is Chief Anderson?”

  “Back in the hospital, had another heart attack.”

  “Crap. I love the old man but I’m beginning to wish he’d either die or retire.” Too late to cancel the call, he steeled himself and headed for the trailer. Inside he found the assistant chief of police in his element, surrounded by sycophants, totally confused and quickly issuing meaningless orders to make himself sound important. Harper surveyed the group of officers and found someone he could deal with. “Captain Panini,” he said to get the woman’s attention.

  The captain of criminal investigation, Central District, looked up from her cellphone and smiled when she saw him, then she looked at the assistant chief and frowned. “It’s not very smart for you to be here, Billy.”

  “Just responding to a call.”

  “I’ve heard that before.”

  He held up his department issue Blackberry so she could see his duty assignment flashing with her name over it. “Just like old times,” he said with his most disarming smile. A shadow of a smile raced across her face. That smile hinted of some past moment of joy. Just as quickly it was replaced with a frown of consternation.

  “The old times weren’t that fun, Billy. Are you here to do a job?”

  “I said I was, didn’t I-“

  “What the hell is he doing here?” demanded a voice from across the trailer. Harper didn’t have to look to know it was the assistant chief.

  “He responded to a call I put out,” Captain Panini told her superior.

  “You called him, of all people?”

  “No sir, I just called for an investigating lieutenant. I had no idea he was in the district.” The assistant chief walked right up to Harper, standing no more than an inch from his nose. Harper looked down at the shorter man and noticed he was going bald. Niedelmeir was giving Harper his best intimidating look, making the veins stand out on the assistant chief’s neck.

  “None of your bullshit, you hear me, Lieutenant? I get at least a recommendation a week from IA to have you investigated.”

  “Then investigate me sir,” he said casually, “I bleed blue and my sheets are clean.” The other man’s veins stuck out a little farther and Harper just couldn’t resist pushing a harder. “When’s the last time you’ve had IA investigate you, Assistant Chief Niedelmeir?”

  “Get him out of my TacCenter!” roared the diminutive man and turned away. A flock of his toadies surrounded him to ask for advice and Harper turned back to Captain Panini.

  “You just can’t leave well enough alone, can you?” she said.

  “Little toad gets on my nerves
. Well, don’t want anyone to think I’m just here to chat with my wife, I better get to work.”

  “Don’t worry about anyone thinking that,” she said and took his Blackberry. She linked it with hers and in a second he had the details of his assignment and she handed it back. “What they will think is you came here to insult your ex-wife’s new husband. Now please leave before I enter a reprimand in your file.”

  Harper slammed the trailer door a little harder than necessary on the way out bringing conversations to an abrupt halt and startling a few people. “Never could figure out why you married that man,” said a nearby female sergeant working on a laptop computer.

  “Well, sometimes we make mistakes,” she said, looking from the door to where her husband was busy trying to control an out of control situation.

  Harper walked the mile to where his suspect was waiting. He took his badge out and flipped it open for display in his breast pocket. The open show of his ID made passing in and out of police lines much easier. He had trouble as he approached the edge of the North Meadow and ran into the perimeter set up by the FBI. “No local law enforcement is needed here,” he was informed by a uniformed, armed and armored federal agent. Harper eyed the fully automatic battle rifle and the bandoleer of magazines with curiosity.

  “You got King Kong in there?” he asked.

  “Just go around, NYPD. If we need any doughnuts, we’ll dial 911.”

  Years of experience working with the feds had taught him the futility of continuing this little game. With a smile and a nod he continued around the cordon the feds had set up. Something big was going on, that was evident. NYPD had been relegated to crowd control, which was becoming typical anytime something big happened.

 

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