Necropolis: Book 4: Hybrids
Page 3
Language was difficult for the Remnant beyond the portal; little more than an echo; a remembered memory. Her communication was beyond language, beyond words. Emotions, images, identity. Tamara simply knew. She whispered the word. A statement, a question, a confirmation; it was all these things.
“...mama...?”
This message was joyous and by its nature overflowed and spilt out. It reached and entered Veronica and Hiromitsu's minds
“Shantigra?”
“Marie?” They both gasped in one voice.
The Remnant-Marie's visage shimmered and shifted. Her beautiful lips parted to reveal the warmest of smiles. “I love you all...” she whispered in their minds as the shadows embraced her.
Tamara stood with her hand raised and outstretched still. Her eyes were dazzling as a simple smile spread across her face. She turned and walked over to Dante and held his hand.
“We can stop this,” she said.
“I know,” answered Dante. It was the first time Veronica ever heard his voice. Veronica was overwhelmed with emotion as tears rolled down her cheeks. “Stop what?”
“Nyarlathotep.”
Veronica's blood ran cold. Her voice was little more than a whisper, “Mon dieu... where did you hear that name?”
Tamara cocked her head to one side, a bit confused, then smiled. “Mama told me. Nyarlathotep is alive and on a special island -”
“- Tamara and I have to make him go away.” Dante finished the thought for her. The two children minds were linked.
“It,” Veronica corrected the ten-year old children. “It's not human.”
* * *
Perth, Australia,
June 2nd, 2005,
(Now)
As Amber teleported away she became aware. Like a tickle in your throat that preempts a cough. Like the ever so slight telltale hint of the disease before it spreads throughout and became contagious.
Amber was sensitive to Its calling. She felt it. She could see It in her mind's eye. Where It was. Isolated. Distant. Desolate. Cyclopean. A monstrous city that was nothing more than a tomb; a great watery graveyard. Necropolis.
* * *
June 2nd, 2005, Montreal, Canada
Olympic Stadium
International Junior Music Competition
(Now)
By now, the lead edge of the water surge was fortified with tons of debris it collected on its rampant surge through the city. The sound was felt in their bodies, through their feet, and through the floors and concrete of the Olympic Stadium when it struck, its very foundations shaking.
The auditorium burst into action, chaos, and panic.
The Remnant-Marie spoke in their minds, “There are waters coming. You will drown. Your abilities cause this...”
Hiromitsu and Veronica reached the stage, both holding their adopted children in their arms.
Tamara hugged Hiro tightly. “I don't understand. What abilities?”
Without language, pure and near impossible to misunderstand, the shadow-wrapped Marie communicated so Tamara and Dante could see. “Your natural abilities do not affect water – they create gravity wells. The water reacts to that.”
Dante held Veronica's hand. He was frightened. He was worried this could be his nightmare come to reality. Tamara's mind was still linked to his. She did her best to sooth his panic, but she too was getting frightened. She could see his nightmare city! She was frightened their nightmared cities could be a glimpse of the future!
Another booming concussion echoed through the building. Water exploded through several exit doors, gushing in like white water rivers!
“TAMARA!” the Remnant-Marie was frantic, “You have no time! You've seen the pathways! You need to leave. Now! You need to -”
A kind of peace and tranquility passed through Tamara and Dante's minds. Their minds and Remnant-Marie's across the portal's barrier joined briefly. For that one singular second they shared the same thought.
The ghost-Marie finished her statement, “- jump!”
Dante called out in French, “Sortie!” and in unison, Tamara in Japanese, “Tobu!”
The water thundered through the auditorium, sweeping people away like grains of sand. Nothing stood in its way. Roaring water drowned out all other sounds. Dante and Tamara's eyes burst bright with energy. The psychic energy in the room spiked. Each held their adopted parent tightly as they reached for each other's hand. As the raging water blasted through chairs, instruments and tables towards them, the energy intensified and the very fabric of reality bent and warped upon itself, curving to an infinite degree. There was a blinding blink of light... all four disappeared. Teleported away.
Chapter 5: Sentinel
He sat at his desk playing Spider Solitaire. He had nothing else to do. He rarely ever had anything to do. It made for extremely long days. The job paid great, but boring?! They needed to come up with a new word to describe this kind of boring.
He wondered how long it would last. The Centinel Project had consistently been downsized every year for the past ten years. He knew it was only a matter of time before even his job became redundant.
The Centinel Project. It was a misnomer. Its name was derived from centi, or centum,from the Latin meaning 100. Its initial concept involved one-hundred satellites in various orbits to monitor potential GEOP-events (Global Elliptical Ocean Phenomena), and report phenomena back to a central control.
However, due to the exponential growth of technology, it never reached this number, finding its current count of 24 satellites. Eighteen High Elliptical Orbiting satellites following three axial orbits and accompanied by 5 Geosynchronous orbiting satellites positioned to monitor previous GEOP-Event locations. The final satellite, in a high geosynchronous orbit, acting as a platform and central controlling unit.
Interest was high with the initial discovery by Dr. Genevieve Cadeaux, and the two events of the Oct. 17th, 1994 Tokyo-Brazil-Event and the Nov. 3rd, 1994 Montreal-Perth-Event.
He had studied Dr. Cadeaux's work and research adamantly. It was new, exciting, full of potential, and a rare unsolved mystery of the world! He had built his entire career around this Project. He now wondered if this might have been a mistake. With no Events recorded in the following decade, the initiative came into question and its funding dwindled.
This Centinel Project was initiated on Jan. 17th, 1995 by the UNCGSC under the Synchronicity Mandate (03/16/93). Although still waiting and observing the planet for this elusive, theoretical and ghostlike GEOP-Event, ultimately, it became relegated to assisting with GPS, weather and meteorological observations.
To the few technicians and personnel assigned to this project, this central orbiting A.I. became affectionately referred to as Sentinel.
Some of the more imaginative IT staff had created a cute cartoon character of a tiny robot with a single camera lens for an eye. This image stuck and became an unofficial mascot and icon for Sentinel.
A bobble-head rendition of Sentinel stood still and silently on his desk. He struck the bobble-head with his finger. Dust motes floated in the air as it danced silly for him.
However, this picture couldn't have been further from the truth. As far as satellites go, it was an ugly piece of technology. More of an orbiting CPU than a proper satellite, it did little more than coordinate its 23 subordinates' information, interpreting the data for its earth-bound masters.
Sentinel appeared as an awkward conglomerate of boxed equipment and tech as it passed over the curved horizon. One GPS satellite had brought Sentinel's attention to Montreal, Canada.
Sentinel's protocols allowed it to abandon its less important and mundane activities. Sentinel called five High Elliptical Orbiting satellites and one Geosynchronous satellite over Montreal on-task. Numerous media, meteorological, social media, news, and military data streams began feeding into Sentinel.
Back on earth in the IT technician's office, he was about to quit his game of Spider Solitaire when he noticed a small alert window open on his screen.
He knew what the words meant. He knew what the alert window meant, although he had only ever seen them in his training ten years ago. He nervously clicked on the window.
Sentinel: “Satellites designate HEOX-6, HEOX-3, HEOY-2, HEOZ-3, GSO-MC convergent information. We have confirmation of severe flooding in Montreal, Canada. Emergency Canada has issued orders to evacuate.”
“Severe? Please define, Sentinel,” asked the technician.
Sentinel: “Estimated to be 302% of the Nov. 3rd 1994 Event.”
“...oh shit...”
A second small alert window opened on his screen.
Sentinel: “Satellites designate HEOX-6, HEOY-2, HEOZ-3, HEOZ-4, GSO-PA confirm, oceanic swell at antipodes. Severe coastal flooding, epicentre estimated south-west of continental Australia. Nearest large populace affected: Perth.
“We have confirmation of massive GEOP-Event. Centinel Protocol activated.”
The technician's mind raced trying to remember his training. What was he supposed to do next? Yes, diagnostic first to confirm full functionality. Sentinel was droning on in the background:
Dr.N_Ramakrishna...unavailable
T_Cherninski...contacted
H_Neilson... contacted
E_Lefebvre... unavailable
Dr.G_Cadeaux... contacted
“Sentinel! I need you to perform a self-diagnostic. Secondly, I need you to perform...”
“Self-diagnostic complete. All systems operating within specified parameters.”
“I need you to perform diagnostics on all HEO satellites and all GSO platform satellites.”
“Dr.J_Belanger... unavailable
“Dr.B_Kazakevich... unavailable
“P_Lestlie -
“Diagnostics complete. All satellites systems operating within specified parameters. Anomaly within HEOY-6.”
“Was HEOY-6 involved in these confirmations?”
“Negative.”
“Bring it offline. Shut it down, Sentinel. We'll deal with it later. Continue with Centinel Protocol.” The technician pulled out his cell phone. He now needed to contact his supervisor at the United Nations Covalent Global Security Concave. He had never used this number before, and as he thumbed through his contact list trying to find the number he mumbled under his breath to himself,
“Shit, meet fan. Fan, shit.”
Chapter 6: Leaman's Island
The smell of birch trees reminded her of autumn. That dry musty scent she always associated with the brisk chill of fall. But it wasn't chill here at this most peculiar of islands.
Veronica sat on the beach with the two children by a small makeshift fire. This is where they had arrived after Dante and Tamara teleported them to safety – escaping the flooding in Montreal. They knew they were on an island, but that was the extent of their knowledge. The sky was still dark. The forest behind them was far too dark to explore yet. They'd wait for daybreak. The sun appeared to be rising in the east, the sky hinting towards pink.
The starlight and moonlight bathed the beach and night ocean in their silvery light, the ocean tides singing its gentle hushing song as it lapped at the sandy beach. Hiromitsu stood further up the beach trying to find a signal for his cell phone.
Veronica watched the moon. It wasn't like anything she had ever seen before. It wasn't round. It was stretched, elongated, elliptical. It appeared ever so slightly bent; like a souvenir penny squished and elongated in those machines.
Hiromitsu returned to the fire. “There are no signals here,” he said, defeated.
“Otouchan Hiro,” Tamara began while looking up at the night-sky. “Why is the moon funny?”
“I believe because of some sort of lensing effect, but I don't know what could cause that,” Hiromitsu answered her. “Do not worry, my baby girl, it is only an optical illusion.”
“This is a strange place,” Veronica added.
There was something strange about this island. Both children noticed in their silence. Although Tamara didn't have the words and couldn't name it, she innately knew. There were gravity fluctuations; tiny time-space curvatures. Like a tickle on the outer edge of her perception, they were everywhere.
Dante was sensitive to the island's outré energy as well. He could feel it in his bones, flowing through his blood, and within the very fiber of his being. It was easier to feel then describe for him. Tiny pieces of time that curled up upon themselves. Tiny nanoseconds coiled up like a spring and uncoiling before they could cause any sort of event. Like a constant potential awaiting, a dormant yet perpetually charged energy field, simply humming with potential energy. The entire area was just poised at the edge of some unknown event. Both children felt the island's anticipation.
As Tamara cleared her mind to better absorb and understand what she was sensing around her, she picked up another energy field. It was different. It was significantly more powerful and influential than the other. It was subtle and passive but permeated everything on the island, including themselves. Where the other fields were connected and related to one another, this was totally unrelated and alien. It was somehow artificial and created; built. It wasn't like the blanket the others were. It was specific. A pin point. It had a location.
“I feel it too,” Dante stated, reading the thought out of Tamara's mind. “It's that way,” he pointed towards the middle of the island. “Or,” he pulled a confused face, “down?”
Tamara nodded in agreement with him. “Yes. It's somehow beneath us, beneath the island. I can sense it... but it doesn't make any sense.”
She closed her eyes and reached her mind out in all directions around her. All she could pick up were the tiny microscopic gravity curvatures around her.
Maybe they blanket everything else out? She thought. Maybe they effectively blinded her and Dante?
Then she remembered that mesmerizing web of doorways and gateways; inter-dimensional pathways and windows. She reached her mind out in another direction; a non-direction; a non-compassed direction. Neither up nor down, nor right nor left, nor forward nor backwards – that way!
There was a brief flash of light as that same flat, circular window-like portal came into existence. Dark shadows billowed on its other side.
Veronica instinctively pulled Dante closer to herself, a look of concern on her face. “Did you open that?” she asked the young Japanese girl.
Tamara nodded yes.
“How did you do that?” Veronica asked, more to herself. “I mean, you didn't play any music. There is no Gatesphere -”
“Gatesphere?” both Tamara and her uncle Hiromitsu asked.
“Every single time I've seen a Gateway opened, it is surrounded by a black Gatesphere. It's like a pocket or a boundary or a barrier between our world and the other.”
Hiromitsu sat up straighter, his concern piqued. “You have seen these Portals before?”
The billowing shadows on the other side of the portal parted, revealing the Asian ghost of Shantigra/Marie. The Remnant-Marie spoke in answer to their question. “This isn't a doorway. It is a window into another universe. It is like a naked singularity – there is no surrounding horizon; no Gatesphere.”
Dante, sitting on Veronica's lap, looked into her eyes and gently spoke, “It isn't a Gateway, mama Ver.”
“Mama,” Tamara turned to face the Remnant-Marie, but before she could continue Veronica cut her off.