But no one could invade the circle now. The spinning sand had become an impenetrable tube surrounding Amy and Jim, and they hovered inside. They rose slowly atop the swirl and it began to dissipate as they got higher: five feet, ten…
Jim was looking around and about, and he wasn’t scared; he started smiling big, and then laughing. Ah ha, ah ha, ah ha ha ha! The feeling tingled every inch of his skin. The blond hair around his bald spot blasted upward; a warm blow dryer on maximum speed. It felt like his recently neglected follicles were being electrified back into growth.
The ground was now fifteen feet below, then twenty as they floated above the reaching crowd. The sand stopped making a barrier and the masses filled the area they’d risen from. Amy put her head back and looked up to the sky. Sights and sounds didn’t matter anymore, it felt too wonderful, and Jim looked up as well, closing his eyes.
Below hundreds of people were squeezing close, and flooding every inch of the distance afar. Several ATV’s rode the water’s edge for all dry land had been taken. All just to get a glimpse of the beauty, a new shining star fifty feet in the air gushing rainbows of color in wave-like pulses. Swimmers came to shore. Around them a crowd formed in the sea. Binoculars gazed, packed hotels full of onlookers watched and conversed in amazement. But the talking quickly hushed as thousands dropped cameras, their pointing fingers, and their jaws.
The light was beautiful, the feeling equally so. Inside he could see nothing but its abstract beauty. A rush of euphoria came over Jim forcing his eyes wide open. Ecstasy, bliss, and wonder filled his mind and body as he held his head back and arms out; he let an easy breath fall from his relaxed mouth.
As the light got brighter the people got quieter—until dead silence. Then, the star pulsed sending out an explosion of light. The crowd got the same dose of the bliss Jim and Amy had been experiencing and every smile melted with satisfaction. The second pulse was twice as strong, sending many of the women onlookers to their knees in orgasm, but all fought to continue seeing it, feeling it: reaching, praising, even worshiping. The third pulse shook the ground. With eyes closed and head back, Jim’s muscles clenched tight and stayed that way; complete blissfulness pleasantly invaded his every sense and melted peacefully into his thoughts.
Amy opened one eye and peeked at him. He had the smile of an eight year old under a firework finale; she smiled, which led to a tiny giggle, then returned to her focus. Clenching her fist tightly, and Jim’s hand, she squinted her eyes. This is it! A climactic pulse exploded—this time from within them both. It delivered a shock wave that warped the world. In rapid succession another lighter pulse warped it again, and then again, and again. Jolting spasmodically, Amy, Jim, and everyone within hundreds of miles felt nirvana. Muscles constricted contorting people into various odd positions. Spasms jolted young and old—even the golden retriever.
Then, stillness. Every person had relaxed. All eyes were closed save for those that had spasmed to death. The departed left stretched and frozen full-toothed smiles, tightly squinted skin, and round popping eyes. But most made it, had been knocked out cold—knocked out warm to be precise. Occasionally, hiccupping bodies fluttered like the wave at a baseball game, resounding with a purr.
The light faded, and the two hovered back down to the sand below. With a smile tattooed on his face, Jim turned to Amy but didn’t speak. He couldn’t. Amy felt the same. The good feeling echoed through their bodies and minds as they descended. Jim jerked a little with each succeeding diminuendo of tingles. Their toes dug into the sand amid and between thousands of people, and they fell holding each other.
Amy looked up at Jim as he held her in his arms. She wasn’t tired, just extremely relaxed. He was panting a little but had to see it and stood up. She watched him as he rotated, gazing at the comatose sea of bodies.
“I—” Jim stuttered looking down at her. “I think I need a cigarette.”
Amy just giggled.
53. Incoming
The lenders were performing exemplary like no other time, and everyone came together to make it happen, but it was Amy and Jim getting the attention and their slice took more than half of the HAT.
“Wow,” Devon said flabbergasted.
“Jim was right Devon,” Ted said, “she’s unbelievable. But it’s still going to take a miracle.”
They’d been on pins and needles and the timer haunted them terribly. It had expired, but the lenders were successful in propelling the system straight into high green. The conical ceiling basked in its glow. The status meter at the center of the broadcast room illuminated intensely, still far below the mysterious purple status, yet throbbing as if it wanted to burst through.
The drones had penetrated the bay entrance to the inner facility. Outside the door muffled pounding combined with a low hum terrorized those awake in the broadcast room. The lenders lay sound asleep. Devon verified that lender stability and the dream environment held exceptionally stable, seemingly, the more the merrier.
“After what I’m seeing here—” Ted said exhibiting mental exhaustion. “—my hope is bolstered, but they’re inside the facility Devon. As grand as the attempt was, I don’t think we don’t have much time.”
“Ted.” Rico came over the speaker snapping the two out their trance. They had a mix of astounded elation, shadowed by the despair of unaltered probability. “Ted!”
Ted turned to the panel behind the HAT and answered the call, “We’re here Rico. For as long as we can be.”
“I know Ted, they’re inside but the hall lasers are keeping up, for now, blasting the shit of the bastards—” He thought with introspection, I’m starting to talk like Jim. Damn this fucking shit. “—they’re at our door but we’ve been watching them. Our system is highly intelligent and learns fast. It waits until they’re near the door then takes them out. They have to clean out their own losses in order to maintain the offense so their progress is slowed. And good news, our outer forces are waking up. I don’t know how you did it amigo but they’re on the way. We have sixteen perimeter ships, the one Nelman gave us, number eleven, is down and in the process of auto-repair, fourteen are staying back to hold the perimeter, number five is headed our way to assist.”
“But they’ll be through our door any moment,” Ted replied having had run more calculations. “I hate to be the pessimist, but I’m not seeing it.”
“I know it’s going to be close. We’re seeing numbers we could’ve never imagined, not in our wildest, dreams. Thousands, millions of drones, highly advanced technologically; it’s almost unfathomable. But we’re not giving up hope. Abell is propping supplies against the door—I suggest you do the same. We have to hang on a little while longer. The huge plus is the way our facility was designed, brilliant, a huge bottleneck!”
“The townspeople? And Abell?” Ted asked.
“The safe room door is holding, better than ours I’d say. It’s as if they’re targeting something here in the facility and leaving that door alone, for the most part. And yes, Abell is with us. He never made it to you. When he passed the bay door it was giving in so he propped it up with fifty pound bags of salt buying us some time. It was a close call so he headed back this way.”
“Okay, good luck to us all,” Ted said. We’ll need it, he thought, again pessimistically. He didn’t know where Rico had gotten the sudden blast of hope and optimism but he sure could use some. He noticed a change in Rico since his logout. But could it be? So quickly, he thought. The pounding on the door got louder. “Let’s get that door propped up.”
Rico was glad the automation had returned to 100%. It took over all lasers with cunning efficiency. His screen was littered with blips—like the space debris of the early 2020’s—as if all the fire-flies of the world had been stuffed into one jar. He turned to his HAT in order to better get a grasp on the situation, to see what in the world was going on and if they had any chance in hell.
Relatively small truck-tire-sized drones buzzed around the town like locusts obliterating the once sere
ne space outside while searching for life. Smaller pie-plate-sized pests scanned every crevice. Everything was ablaze. If, by some chance the town could abolish them, there’d be no more kitchens or restaurants, gymnasiums or green walks in the park, and no more homes. But at least most had made it into the facility, forces were coming back strong and auto-repairs were making strides. It was an all out melee, a battle to regain the balance. The scales were tipping, lower and plummeting for the little jewel in the desert, but, hope remained.
“Guys, I got something here, and it’s big, really big,” Rico said, now able to see more detail using the large hologram view of the HAT.
“Abell, keep propping this up,” Ron said and headed to join Rico. He’d been helping Abell who was doing great job propping up the door with supplies. He made a solid wall using the heaviest of items from the supply room. Boxes of cheese turned molding green blocks of steel, bricks upon bricks of diamond-hard bread, and bounce-a-bullet gelled syrup would be their final hope.
“My—what in the world… It’s huge!” Ron said arriving directly across from him. “Is it one of ours?” The large grey entity appearing in the hologram was headed straight for them.
“I don’t know but it’ll be within visible range in just a few minutes. It’s moving fast and—look here.” Rico noticed that the same drones that were attacking the town had also begun to attack the ship. And it had no signature like the other drones so they couldn’t tell if it was friendly but the red blips around it were disappearing at a fast rate. “Our outer ships must of decided to let it pass. I think, it must be—it’s working for us! It’s taking these drones out and not slowing down one bit.” Rico pointed to the drones surrounding it that faded from view. It appeared the large ship was taking them out, effortlessly, clearing a hell of a path. Ron sighed. The three experienced a tidal-wave of relief, Abell’s being the least outbursting. Rico officially declared it a friendly to the system so the wall lasers would assist upon its arrival. After setting the exception it appeared as green on the display.
Abell finished reinforcing the door. He did all he could do. He topped it off by putting the now squirming David on top of the pile. David was messed up, bad, and his face was swelling like a knobby balloon, but had caught his breath and was still plastered enough to put the pain aside, somewhat. He snickered to himself crazily atop the massive pile, mumbling barely coherent words, “Jessie, oh, I’m gonna, ah just like that. Oh, Jessie. I love you Jessie.” The team glanced up to him momentarily with little regard. He was quiet and seemed to be entertaining himself, and they had more important issues at hand.
After a few minutes the large ship was close enough for a vague visual.
“On screen,” Rico said. Ron manually directed the wall camera nearest the strange object to display it in visual light. He tapped a few more controls and the small hologram table fully generated its 3D vector image. It was huge, at least two hundred feet long, a floating building shaped like a large sausage. The bottom of the sausage had been sliced flat but it still had an overall rounded appearance—as well as could be seen from such a distance. There appeared to be large markings on the side of its metallic hull. And drones were attacking it, furiously. It seemed to be taking very little damage and easily destroyed anything it encountered along the way. It had dozens of lasers firing and left a trail of obliterated drones in its wake. As if paving its own road—marking the crusty rain-soaked desert, the remaining detritus was a black scar of ash and smoke.
“The outer ships must’ve communicated with it somehow,” Rico said. “The support ship that was en route to assist changed course, it’s headed back to seal the outer perimeter.”
Ron pulled a fist at his side. “We are gonna make it.” Abell was towering aside him, half smiling at the news like he was juggling thoughts.
“Well, we have a chance,” Rico said, “it’s coming fast, and by the size of it, I’m glad it’s on our side. I’ll let Ted and his team in on the good news.”
Nobody in the broadcast room noticed the flashing red call light. Focus was on stopping the machines from getting inside. The pounding continued to get louder—faster.
Old doc stayed near Amy’s side as she lay on the lending bed. She was stable and looked peaceful in her sleep, and surprisingly her color had returned to a small degree. More than the blue lights at her temples, and what she could possibly be doing there, he wondered about his findings yesterday. He’d planned on informing Jim first during his usual visit, but the day had other plans. Things took a sudden turn for the worse, that nobody would have predicted. His old self didn’t have the strength to fight or move furniture so he decided to stay with Amy, and tended to her as best he could. If time allowed he would disclose to Ted and the others his discovery.
Ted, the twins, Young Doc, and especially Bertha, were sweating heavily. They’d moved the refrigerator across the room to the door. Then with Bertha’s indispensable help they propped three heavy stretching machines behind it. It was astonishing to witness her strength and how she lifted many of the larger items with ease. Almost single-handedly she did most of the work. Boxes of can goods and other items from the supply room were stuffed between one of the room’s solid steel wall support beams. Luckily it had been built ten feet behind the entrance and substantially helped to brace the door. Hopefully they’d bought themselves some time.
Ted finally noticed the flashing light and rushed over. “It’s a call from Rico,” he declared quietly and using sign language. The others ran over, even the unauthorized. Everyone hoped for some good news.
“Ted,” the voice came over the speaker as he pushed the button. “Good news guys. There’s a ship coming and it’s taking out everything in its wake. We determined it is coming to help and it’ll be here in about ten minutes.”
Anticipating, Ted caught Bertha before a cheerful outburst, and pointed to the sleeping lenders. They all hugged and cheered, quietly, with the news. Old Doc stood somber and silent next to Amy. Ted noticed and waved him over to the BROCC. The exciting news should lift his spirits. But he didn’t come, so Ted went to him.
Ted told him the great news but Old Doc had some of his own. Whispering quietly he said, “That’s great Ted.” His words were melancholy with far less than the predicted amount of excitement.
“Is everything okay Doc?” Ted whispered in reply. Old Doc looked down to Amy. “Is she alright?”
Old Doc didn’t know much about what she did there, but he knew enough not to wake her, so he went around her bed and put an arm around Ted.
“We can’t wake her correct?” Doc asked quietly walking away from her with Ted.
“That is correct. It would be bad for the system if she woke up unexpectedly,” Ted explained.
Old Doc gestured with his head, pointing to the break room. They walked over. It was a mess but a few stools remained. He and Ted took a seat at the counter.
“Ted. I wanted to let someone in on what I found. We managed to get the old scanner functioning. It didn’t have any film but with the help of a very smart individual that volunteers at the hospital—well you know, we’re used to doing a lot with very little. I wanted to get it working after Amy was brought in—because of her dire condition. And we did. We managed to get a few scans before it crapped out for good. Anyway, Ted, I wanted to let you know that we found something her head, and it doesn’t look good.” Ted looked down, as if the news couldn’t be worse. “We know she hadn’t been modified during the cleansing, and that leaves her highly susceptible too—”
“I know,” Ted said, after his reluctance to say the word. “How clear are the pictures, can you identify exactly—” Ted felt a lump in his throat making it difficult to speak. He thought what he couldn’t force his mouth to say: Cancer. He correlated the thought with their recent endeavors. The place they called home, Earth, what it had been through, increased solar radiation, aerial contaminants, what the war had done to pollute the…everything. And he realized, he should have known, what that would mean t
o any normal person, an unmodified person. Like he’d become glass, a bead of sweat made its way down his face. The radiation level was still rather high, even after decades. And he had been overseeing the reverts—the one responsible for the decision; his mind started to panic. Did he, in the name of science and his interminable calculations blatantly overlook the fact, that, now all lenders will become susceptible to cancer?
“I can’t confirm that it is cancer Ted. The equipment we have is—well it’s shit Ted. All I can say—there’s something there. The photos are poor, too fuzzy to confirm anything. And if it is—there’s nothing we can do about it. Not here, not in our technologically deprived town. And especially not after what’s likely happened out there.” Doc consoled Ted as best he could. And surely it looked like he needed consoling. Ted’s mind had gone off in a tangent, and his normally dark black skin looked clammy and grey. Old Doc had always been a doctor, but it never got easier revealing bad news—in fact with the closeness of the community, where everyone knew just about everyone, they were a large family—it was downright painful. But Ted, the scientist, was taking it hard, unusually he thought. In truth Ted was not thinking only of Amy, but everyone that had been reverted, almost every lender.
Ted kept the conversation between them for now. In the midst of the looming crisis nobody needed any more bad news. But they did have a few good things going for them. The broadcast feed status remained in high green and the control room marked all operational forces online. The flood of incoming drones had finally stopped. Perimeter ship #11 was on the verge of completing its repairs, and #5 successfully reinserted itself into the high velocity rotational wave effectively sealing the distant outer perimeter, ending the breach.
Lenders Page 44
