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Original Design

Page 24

by William Latoria


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  Days passed, and Blackshade only left the situation room long enough to refresh and change his clothes. The Unification Foundation had an excellent selection of outfits to choose from, and once he made his selection, it was delivered to his domicile inside the Foundation automatically. Today he had chosen to wear a short sleeved, green button up shirt with flared out business casual pants that included extra cargo pockets. He still hadn’t slept yet, nor did he feel tired, but he wasn’t sure if that was still from the effects of the Omegas, or the staggering amount of stress he was under due to the Omegas’ terraforming.

  Over the past few days, the Omegas’ ship hadn’t stopped bulldozing the continent of South America. Colombia, Venezuela, Guyana, Suriname, Guiana, Bolivia, most of Brazil and half of Peru had been literally wiped off the Earth. All that was left were piles of scorched dirt, fine debris, smoldering ash, and humanity-wide heartache. The Amazon Basin was destroyed as well as the Brazilian Highlands. The internet was in a frenzy, the likes of which had never been seen. Calls for military action and the death of the Omegas were commonplace. Many people were proudly touting what they would do if they could get their hands on an Omega. Cartoons and internet memes depicting humanity slaughtering the Omegas received millions of likes, which only created more flamboyant internet warriors who boasted even greater acts of vengeance on the Omegas and more impressive memes. Hundreds of videos depicting the displaced South Americans’ reactions to the videos of their homes being destroyed played constantly on every corner of the internet. Charities were formed and fully funded within hours, heartfelt speeches were given, both Presidents went on record saying this would not stand and that they were passionately working on ways to bring the Omegas to justice for the travesties they had committed on the South American people. Blackshade knew it was all bullshit. He had sat in on those meetings. He had watched as top military officials cried like babies at their utter inability to do anything to stop the Omegas or hold them accountable. Two of the men, and one woman, resigned their positions altogether, saying they wanted nothing more to do with the situation. Blackshade saw them as cowards, and of course they were, but he could also understand their stance. Everything about this was terrifying, and for those who were accustomed to being in positions of unquestionable power and authority, this was something they were ill-equipped to deal with. Every simulation they ran, where Candaerica attacked the Omegas, ended in utter failure. None of the country’s weaponry could so much as theoretically scratch the Omegas’ ship, and when compared to the destructive power Russia had unleashed on the space craft when it first arrived, heavily discouraged a military response. Anti-life technology was discussed, but it was decided that until more was known about the Omegas, they would not use the weapon against them unless absolutely necessary. It was their country’s last hope if the Omegas decided that Candaerica needed to be terraformed next. Blackshade thought that was reasonable, but he thought the real reason they didn’t want to use the technology was because they weren’t confident it would even work on them. Then what hope would anyone have?

  The only positive thing that had come from the situation was that the country had galvanized around the displaced South Americans. Many people invited them to move into their homes and made them part of their families. Apartments and houses were bought for displaced families, and a new apartment complex donated an entire building to the South American people, free of charge. Many of those in the country had already been granted their citizenship and were being offered jobs, even if they weren’t fully qualified for the work. It had become trendy to have a South American family living with you or working at your company. Blackshade just hoped it would last. Candaericans were known for being considerably fickle and having short attention spans.

  The days passed, with Blackshade following the progress of the Omega ship tearing through the South American landscape. The only way they could watch was by using the Hubble II Space Scope which was now feeding its broadcast to the entire world. Everyone with access to the internet could watch as South America was systematically destroyed. Blackshade found the other countries’ responses to what was happening to be very interesting. Russia didn’t seem to care. But in fairness, they had their own situation to deal with. Moscow was still too volatile to search for survivors, not that anyone had any real hopes of finding anyone. But eventually the effort would be made. China was stabilizing and had now fractioned into five separate provinces, where the people had formed new pseudo-governments to replace the government that had committed suicide. None of the new governments seemed to have an opinion on the situation, as the internet was still heavily censored, so it was difficult to know how much information the Chinese actually had. England was as outraged as Candaerica, as was Japan, Spain, and most of Europe. France, of course, let the world know, in no uncertain terms, that they would do whatever it was the Omegas asked them to do, without question. The internet warriors of the world had a field day with that one, but Blackshade thought the French might have the right idea in this situation. What could humanity do about this? Africa was cheering on the Omegas, saying that South America was finally being used for a purpose other than drug and coffee manufacturing, which was only half true. Coffee production in South America had come to a screeching halt once Mexico was converted to an agricultural state. Drugs, on the other hand, had been produced in great quantities in order to try and fuel their limited economy.

  Millions of theories flooded the internet on how to attack and defeat the Omegas. Most of the theories were the worst kind of science fiction nonsense. Big lasers, water, poison, nuclear weapons, Anti-life technology, and things that didn’t exist, like a space modulator and something called an anti-matter fusion array, which the author of the article claimed could be made with general hardware supplies and common dish soap. It was typical deluded internet warrioring. The people writing this nonsense would be the first ones to piss in their pants and run away should an actual fight occur near them. He had spent the last few years of his military career dealing with people like that all over the country. Once they were introduced to real life violence that wasn’t filtered through their display screens, they almost always broke like the cowards they truly were. Posturing on the internet had become Candaerica’s new way to be a bad ass, and it disgusted him now more than ever.

  Blackshade watched as the Omega ship tore through another shanty town somewhere in the southern tip of what was once Brazil. Apparently, there had been some sort of massive stock pile of explosives, or highly volatile material, because as the ship struck the outskirts of the town, a massive explosion filled the display. A large mushroom cloud formed over what little was left of the town, as the Omega ship continued to erase it from the map.

  “Probably a methamphetamine production facility. There are many in that region of the world. Or, I suppose the correct way to phrase that statement is that there were many facilities like that in that part of the world.” Soearth explained from behind him. Blackshade nodded distractedly to him as he watched the destruction. It had been days, and he still couldn’t stop watching the Omegas’ work. He felt Soearth nudge him with something, “Fruit pod?” he offered politely.

  Blackshade took a few of the pods off the proffered plate and absently began chewing on one. Mango flavored, it was somehow fitting. “When you step away from the atrociousness of it all, it’s really quite amazing what the Omegas are capable of.” Blackshade said quietly to his friend. Once he had gotten over his initial shock over what was happening, he was able to see the situation with a more clinical view and began to appreciate the efficiency and precision of what the Omegas were accomplishing. “In less than a week, they’ve leveled half of South America!” he continued, not trying to hide his awe.

  Soearth nodded, “Have you noticed that when the Omega ship has finished with a sector of the continent, that the land is perfectly flat
and even?” he asked, “Not across the continent, but in the areas they’re clearing, they seem to be very precisely leveling the land to very specific levels. I theorize that has something to do with the structures they plan to build in those locations.”

  Blackshade had not noticed this, but now that Soearth pointed it out, it was all he could see, “So, you think this is more than them just clearing out the human garbage? You think there is a method to their madness?” he asked, interested.

  Soearth nodded vigorously, “Oh, absolutely! A race as advanced as the Omegas surely don’t do much, if anything, without precision, planning and reasoning. They knew exactly how much land they would require in order to build their base. That is probably what they were planning out after they teleported all of the people away. They were drawing up blueprints on how they were going to terraform the continent. And now they’re in phase two of that plan: Destruction.”

  Blackshade raised an eyebrow, “Destruction? To build?”

  Soearth nodded again, “Of course! When a human builds a structure, the first thing we do is clear all of the surrounding clutter away. Trees, habitats, animals, even other humans if the situation requires it!” Soearth said, using a half-eaten pod to point with, “Then, once the land is cleared, which is phase one, and what the Omegas did when they removed all the people from South America, they moved to phase two, which is destruction. They are now terraforming the land to suit their needs. In human construction, that means digging foundations, setting concrete, and building steel frames. For the Omegas, it must mean this… erasing… that they’re doing. As their ship passes over the land, I believe it’s sending pulses into the ground, hardening or softening it as they require, much like the land was hardened when they landed in Roswell.”

  Blackshade thought he understood, “So, their next phase will be construction?”

  Soearth shrugged, non-committal, “I don’t know for sure, but that seems to be the next logical step. If they follow human construction methods, I would think so, but I don’t have enough information on their architectural practices to fully commit to an answer.”

  Blackshade thought over Soearth’s theory and couldn’t find any holes in it. “So, what do we do until then?” he asked, at a loss.

  Soearth smiled and offered him more of the pods from his plate, “We do what every great person has done when they find themselves in a situation where they can do nothing. We sit, we watch, and we learn. There is nothing else for us to do, until there is...”

  Blackshade took a few more of the pods from Soearth’s plate and sat back down in his chair. He turned his attention back to the display and watched as the Omega ship began removing Uruguay from the face of the planet.

  Chapter 10

  Two weeks passed, as Blackshade, Soearth, and the other Unification Foundation members watched the Omegas finish their annihilation of South America. Their first pass was completed in nine days. Their second pass was much faster, but followed the exact same path as the first. It took only five days for the ship to complete its second route. Viewed from the Hubble II, there was no doubt that the destruction was catastrophic and total. Not even Moscow had been as utterly destroyed by their own weaponry as South America had been by the Omegas. Nothing was recognizable anymore. The entire continent now resembled farmers’ fields as seen from an airplane, only instead of crops, the fields consisted of precise, flat geometric shapes, made up of dirt and rubble. Cities, towns, homes, offices, parks, monuments, forests, lakes, rivers, and everything else, both man-made and natural, had been turned into nothing more than fine debris.

  In total, just under two hundred million South Americans had lost their lives. The grand total ended up being around one hundred, ninety-eight million and change. The internet referred to them as the “198” and used that number as a rallying cry to voice their outrage. Demands for justice, for vengeance, and for accountability were the only subjects being discussed online. Those few that tried to give voice, supporting the Omegas’ actions were quickly put down in a swarm of angry comments. Death threats were common, protests the norm, and people running off at the keyboard about how to take their righteous revenge were now the most subscribed to on the internet. It was all white noise to Blackshade. He had been summoned to the meetings with the Presidents, and the joint chiefs. He knew, as well as they did, that nothing in humanity’s arsenal could touch the Omegas. The Secretary of Defense had said so himself, barely holding back his tears of frustration. Blackshade understood. He had never reached the Secretary’s level of authority, but he could understand why his impotency to do anything about this situation frustrated the man beyond all bearing. President Novatrix had wanted to go public with the information that it had been she who had foolishly struck the deal with the Omegas, and to inform the public why she had done so. It took President Silvia, and multiple senators, to talk her out of this course of action. Giving the people a human target for their fury would only complicate an already volatile situation. Not to mention cause their society, which was already reeling, to lose even more faith in their governing body. It took some time, but at last she saw reason and agreed to keep her part in the razing of South America a secret. Blackshade wasn’t sure if she would keep her promise though. The guilt he saw in her eyes was heartbreaking. He didn’t blame her for what happened to South America, even though he knew the world would if they ever found out. Her heart had been in the right place, and she couldn’t help that she saw the world through a human’s eyes, and the Omegas didn’t.

  The top scientists in the country worked day and night, trying to force communication with the Omegas. They had no idea if any of their efforts were effective or not because none of their technology could so much as detect the Omega ship. They shot messages toward the Omega ship at every frequency they knew, and when none of those garnered a response, they began guessing and trying new methods. At one point, a series of low powered lasers were shot in the Omegas’ direction. First at the ship in South America, and then at the mother ship still orbiting the planet. The hope was the energy pattern would catch the Omegas’ attention, and they would communicate with us once again. It had not worked, or at least, there had been no reaction from the Omegas if they had noticed. Attempts to update humanity’s technology to detect the Omega ships were equally as futile. Billions of credits had been poured into this research, and they were still no closer to detecting the ship than they had been before the aliens had first arrived. Basically, they were no better off now than they were two weeks ago, and they all knew it. A fugue now permeated the Foundation, and no one was immune to its effects. Small, but heated arguments had started occurring between members of the staff and were becoming more frequent. Aides were becoming short with one another, and a few even became disrespectful toward their superiors. A shouting match between two women had to be broken up by the Secret Service, and at some point, someone had kicked in a stall door in one of the public refresher rooms. Mandatory breaks were now in effect for all members, and police counselors were being brought in to help people talk through their issues. These new strategies were having a minimal effect, however.

  Blackshade still hadn’t slept. It had been almost a month now, and he still wasn’t so much as tired. He began to wonder if he would ever need to sleep again, and decided he wouldn’t mind it if he didn’t. He was able to accomplish a lot more than before, and in the current crisis situation, he found not needing to sleep to be an invaluable boon. Now though, with all the displaced South Americans accounted for, and the Omega ship hovering over the continent once again, he found he had nothing to do. Being idle made him feel restless, but he didn’t know what to do. Since his conversation with Soearth, it seemed all they could do now was wait and see what was going to happen next. So he had sat, and watched the displays, hoping that whatever the Omegas were going to do, that it would be something that would help make all of this make sense.

  He needed a break. He hated taking them, but if the signals he was receiving from his bladder
were accurate, he had only a few more minutes to sit and ogle the displays before he would need to change his pants, and possibly relocate somewhere no one knew him. He got up from his chair and made his way to the refresher room in his assigned quarters. Getting to his room gave him some anxiety. The only way to get anywhere in the Unification Foundation required the use of the transference cubes, and while everyone he had asked told him they were completely safe, he still felt disoriented whenever he used them. Taking them anywhere made his head spin and his stomach do little flips… and he did not enjoy the sensation. It never lasted longer than a minute or two, but just knowing it was going to happen made him apprehensive.

  The door to the transference cube slid open as he approached, and he entered it uneasily. He punched in his access code, allowed the machine to scan him, and then punched in his desired location. The door slid closed, and as he had expected, a small wave of disorientation and nausea hit him. It only took a few moments for the cube to get him to his destination, but it still made him feel miserable. Groaning, he made his way into his billet, shaking his head to clear it and cursing whatever mad scientists came up with the Chaos Algorithm. He knew it was for security, and that it was incredibly effective, but the disorientation he felt after being conveyed by the transference cubes no longer seemed worth it. He knew that his irritation had nothing to do with the cubes, or the algorithm, or anything in the Unification Foundation at all, but he felt like lashing out at something, and one inanimate object was as good as the next.

 

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