Invasion: Shadowmark Episode 1

by Alex Bratton

  An unsettled feeling had been forming in her stomach since she’d first turned on the TV. Now, it grew worse, as if worms had filled her stomach and were wriggling around in there trying to escape.

  “It’s interesting you should call it a shard of rock,” the newscaster said over the camera footage, “because we have new estimates that this wall—or tower, as people are calling it—is at least as tall as The Shard, which is the tallest building in London, as I’m sure you know. That’s really massive, ladies and gentlemen, really massive. I hope you’re getting a sense of just how—”

  “Aliens,” Lincoln interrupted. His tone suggested he was joking but underneath it ran a tenor of worry.

  Mina’s stomach clenched in fear, like the worms had done tiny somersaults and then bounced up into her chest cavity. “You mean like all those movies you made me watch as a kid?”

  “Maybe.”

  “So aliens land in all the cities of the world, burning as they go, and the only people who can stop it are a mismatched gang of volunteers, which includes the most powerful man in the world. But it turns out the aliens aren’t planning a hostile takeover, just looking for a little baby alien they lost who’s out making friends with a human boy somewhere in suburbia.”

  “You’re mashing together two different movies.”

  Mina knew that. She only wanted to annoy Lincoln for taking the theory so seriously and for scaring her.

  “I need to see what’s going on at the University,” she said when she couldn’t tolerate sitting and watching any more of it.

  “You’re going back to Oxford?”

  “What else should I do?” Mina had only been in London for the marathon, which she had forgotten to tell Lincoln about after seeing the news. Now, her accomplishment was overshadowed by this new development. “I’ve waited all thirty years of my life to get here, Lincoln. I won’t give up because there’s a bad news story.”

  The answer to her question hung between them. Come home.

  As if to confirm it, the next news segment covered the growing lines at airports and train stations. Governments had set up no-fly zones around the towers, shooing away the news media to make room for the military aircraft. How long before they grounded flights altogether?

  “There’s no reason to fly to Boston,” Mina said as if they’d been discussing it.

  “Right,” Lincoln answered in a forced voice.

  “It would be a waste of money, and my dissertation won’t write itself.” She only had a few months left. The semester in England was the last stop before graduation.

  “Exactly.”

  Mina shifted back and forth on her feet in front of the television. On one hand, the airports were already crowded. Why add one more person to the mix? On the other, what harm would one more person do?

  The thread of anxiety had settled in her stomach, which was no longer doing flip-flops but had clenched into a knot. A sudden sense of urgency took hold of Mina, and the wiser option of staying put moved to a niggling corner of her brain. She didn’t know what good it would do to go home, but it wouldn’t harm her, either.

  With that thought, Mina made a decision.

  Her mind made up, she grabbed the first clothes she could find—already-worn jeans, clean t-shirt, favorite gray sweater, and low-heeled boots. The boots weren’t the best choice for walking through a sprawling airport. Her running shoes would be better, but Mina couldn’t bring herself to put them back onto her feet after yesterday’s race. They would have to go inside the suitcase.

  Mina put her brother on speakerphone while she pulled it all on. “I’ll call you as you soon as I know flight details.”

  “Okay. If you have trouble getting through, call my office.”

  “I won’t have trouble getting through.”

  “I know. But if you do—”

  “Right, yeah, okay.” She didn’t want Lincoln to finish the thought. Everything would be fine. She would be fine.

  Mina glanced in the mirror to make sure she was presentable, no clothes on inside-out or buttons undone. She didn’t bother with make-up. Never wore much anyway. Her curly brown hair got piled on top of her head in a messy bun that screamed thirty-year-old grad student. No time to worry about it now. If she got to the airport soon, maybe she’d get lucky and get a flight out today.

  “Want me to pick you up at the airport?” he asked.

  “Trying to be the dutiful older brother?” she asked while forcing her swollen feet into her boots.

  “I can’t help it, no matter what it does to your feminist sensibilities.”

  Lincoln’s jab at her worldview didn’t bother Mina. She was used to it coming from him.

  “You know I don’t need you to hold my hand through the airport.”

  “I thought if you were—”

  “What?”

  Mina could almost see her brother’s shrug.

  She snorted and finished his sentence. “Afraid?”

  “I know an independent woman such as yourself doesn’t fear anything. I say that with the biggest eye roll I can muster.”

  “You hide your sarcasm well,” Mina shot back. She grew quiet a moment. The whole situation was unnerving, but she didn’t want to admit that to Lincoln. What if there really were aliens? It didn’t seem possible. That only happened in movies. If it even existed, the odds of alien life finding Earth had to be astronomical. Except, those towers hadn’t planted themselves or grown out of the soil. Someone or something had placed them there.

  “Do you want me to get you at the airport or not?” Lincoln asked, interrupting her musing.

  “I’ll call you.”

  “Okay. Hey, and Mina—”

  “Yes?”

  But she didn’t find out what he was about to say. The connection had been dropped.

  Lincoln Surrey sat in his Boston apartment in his pajama bottoms, phone still in his hand. Well, it was inevitable that the call would be disconnected. With the networks overloaded and the potential for global panic, they were lucky they’d been able to talk as long as they had.

  Probably just as well. He had briefly considered telling Mina about ARCHIE.

  Lincoln laughed at himself. He hadn’t taken the project seriously then. He hadn’t done a crap job, just hadn’t taken it seriously at the time. Why would he now?

  Because now hundreds of strange towers have just appeared out of thin air.

  It didn’t mean they had anything to do with the government program Lincoln had worked on awhile back, did it? And then there was the nondisclosure agreement and the Top Secret security. He better wait until he had more information before alarming Mina with knowledge of the vague project.

  The TV still blared in the living room, its constant chatter and breaking news jingles grating on his nerves, but Lincoln couldn’t stop watching. If the towers were proven to be extraterrestrial, he would tell his sister about the project, top secret status or no. For now, he didn’t see the point in worrying her.

  At the airport, Mina glanced up at the television mounted on a post directly above her. The volume was turned down low, the closed captions scrolling across the bottom of the screen.

  A man shoved past, jostling Mina’s bags on his way to another line. She paid him no attention.

  Heathrow airport teemed with travelers. The tension in the air was palpable. An undercurrent of fear ran through the crowds as if it were being fed by the air they were breathing. Right now, people were putting on a show of being calm, of feeling safe, but their glances showed the truth by their darting eyes with hints of terror in their irises. Mina soon gave up making eye contact with anyone because it did nothing but remind her of the brick in her stomach.

  So far, they didn’t have any news. What was the saying? No news was good news. That was crap. No news was terrifying. The unsettled streets of London had proven it. Mina wasn’t the panicking type. Other people could lose their heads but not Mina. The taxi ride from her hotel to the airport had cost her a small fortune, the result of ev
eryone wanting to go somewhere even if they had nowhere to be.

  Mina looked at the line now winding ahead like a twisty string of dominoes. The woman at the front leaned on the check-in desk as she tried to peek at the customer service computer screen. A bearded man behind her sat on his suitcase, tapping his foot in annoyance and checking his phone. The twenty people behind him all stood in varying states of agitation and boredom. Seeing she had plenty of time to kill, Mina tucked a stray curl behind her ear and turned back to the TV program and more “experts” on alien life.

  She had fun for a moment wondering if the towers were all a beautifully executed, highly offensive prank. Maybe they were just giant balloons, waiting for someone to jump out and yell “surprise!” at an unsuspecting world. Then, the police could pop them, and the world could go back to normal.

  Mina sighed. Giant balloons made less sense than aliens.

  Her phone dinged with a new message. A text from Lincoln displayed on-screen: Tried calling 5 times. Can’t get thru.

  Mina replied as the queue moved forward one space. Networks busy. Will get first flight home.

  Ten minutes passed before she received a reply. What about classes?

  College closed indefinitely, she answered.

  Now that Mina had decided to fly home, the thought of going back to her small flat near the school sounded hollow. Most students would have taken the train or found rides home. She had no classes to attend, no students to mentor. Mina imagined sitting at her desk working quietly on her dissertation while the University, and the world outside it, crumbled around her.

  She smiled at herself and her vision of doomsday. It somehow didn’t include her apartment being destroyed or explain why her dissertation on the literary portrayal of women in the Romantic era would still be important if the world were falling apart. Likely nothing would happen, or the governments would be evacuating the cities. Still, Mina wasn’t ashamed of her sudden desire to go home. It would do her good, and she had plenty of notes to keep her busy in Boston.

  Her phone dinged one more time. Lincoln again. Find a way to watch US news. President is making an announcement.

  Mina looked up and down the line. Travelers remained as they were before, only everyone had shuffled forward a few feet. Now, the bearded man with the nervous foot stood at the front, trying to hurry the customer service rep by beating his hand on the counter.

  Deciding she would not be required to move anytime soon, Mina took a chance and dumped her tote bag and coat on the tile floor at her feet. She sat on her carry-on and pulled out her laptop, browsing through to the first news site streaming live coverage of the president’s briefing.

  The American President stood tight-faced and rigid in front of a podium with the presidential seal displayed behind her. Mina doubted the president was even in Washington, DC. Towers had landed there, too, as well as New York City, Boston, Chicago, and twenty other cities across the United States.

  The video loaded slowly, the spinning circle in the middle of the screen the only indication that Mina’s computer was even attempting a connection. She glanced up at the television screens around the airport. None of them had picked up the coverage.

  Suddenly, the laptop’s audio then video cut in. A few of Mina’s neighbors looked over her shoulder. She shifted so they could see and turned up the volume.

  “…and we demand that the extremists responsible step forward. The United States and its allies will not negotiate with terrorists. This has always been our policy, and it has not changed in the last twenty-four hours…”

  Someone behind Mina snorted at the mention of terrorists.

  The video paused, distorted and pixelated, the spinning circle returning. She resisted the urge to refresh the page.

  After a moment, it continued, “And now I would like to address the American people and indeed all of our friends around the world. I urge you to remain calm until this crisis has passed. It is human nature to worry, and I am not making light of your concerns. However, this is a time when our mettle is tested. A time when, years from now, we can look back and say our strength of character was proven steadfast and unwavering. Treat one another with respect, with kindness, and with dignity…”

  The video split in two. The President continued speaking on the left, while on the right, cameras broadcast a live view of the Brooklyn Bridge. A line of tanks and armored trucks, overshadowed by helicopter escorts, passed by and headed into the city. Then the cameras cut away to Washington, DC, where a similar scene was playing out down Pennsylvania Avenue. Both were dire contradiction to the president’s speech.

  “…and we will emerge from this test stronger and more united than ever.”

  When Mina reached the front of the line, she was disappointed. All flights to the United States were booked for the next month. After putting herself on every possible wait list, Mina found a blank space of wall near a coffee stand and sat down with her legs stretched out, prepared to spend the night. More people crammed into the building. The line for coffee stretched all the way to the lines for tickets, the queues becoming entangled with each other as wait-listers argued with newcomers about which line to get in.

  In the meantime, television programming switched to coverage of British troops helping police curb the swell of looting in the streets. A network or two picked up the US news, replaying the President’s brief urge for calm as well as the UK Prime Minister’s similar urge for peace and the message that everyone should “just go home.”

  No organization had yet to claim responsibility for the towers, as everyone was calling them now. As to what they actually were, no theory was too wild for consideration. Some people said the towers were giant bombs. Others claimed they were receiving psychic messages directly from the rock. Around midnight, the alien invasion theories cropped up again on the mainstream media, this time with more authentic-looking science to back them up.

  And Mina waited. Everyone else in London Heathrow airport waited. The whole world waited.

  Chapter Three

  AFTER A FEW HOURS OF fitful dozing, Mina finally gave up trying to sleep. She abandoned her spot against the wall to stand in the long coffee line. She had just taken a first sip of coffee when her phone rang. Mina almost dropped the cup as she juggled her things to get to it out of her pocket.

  “Hello?”

  “Mina! Finally!” Lincoln’s voice on the other end sounded like Christmas.

  “This is the first time I’ve had service. Where are you?”

  “At work. I was hoping you hadn’t answered because you had found a flight home.”

  “Couldn’t get anything yet. I was just about to get back in line and try again. Why are you at work?”

  “Couldn’t sleep, couldn’t watch more news, couldn’t waste more time. Take your pick.”

  Mina decided not to comment on her brother’s priorities. He had always been a workaholic, but then, so had she. And what else was he supposed to do? Sit in front of the TV, watching the news until his eyes rotted out?

  “So, what do you think?” she asked.

  “It’s a mess here. People are looting, and it’s only been twenty-four hours. They burned the pawnshop and grocery store down the street from my apartment. Will you go back to your studio?”

  “Can’t.” Mina sipped her coffee and grimaced. It was bitter and left a metallic taste in her mouth. “I sublet it through June. Thought I’d stay with you awhile.”

  “Scared, huh?” Lincoln’s tone didn’t carry the usual humor he reserved for her.

  Mina hesitated, ignoring his teasing. She didn’t want to voice what had been nagging at her since the towers appeared, but she had to ask. “Any news on the airports?”

  “Just that they’re packed. No mention of closing them yet.”

  “Yet.”

  The tingle of unease returned, working its way up Mina’s spine and causing her to shiver. Ever since she had made up her mind to go home, she feared she wouldn’t be allowed to. She didn’t want to
tell Lincoln how she felt. He would only try to reassure her, to tell her that things were going to be okay when he didn’t know if they would. Mina didn’t want to think about anything else just yet. Nothing had happened that warranted panic.

  Except possible alien towers.

  “What do you think they are?” she asked.

  “Listen, Mina, there’s something I need to tell you, but don’t freak out, okay?”

  Mina scoffed, annoyed. “When have I ever freaked out?”

  “Fair point, but what I’m about to tell you can’t be repeated, okay?”

  “Okay,” she said, wondering if he were still teasing her.

  Lincoln went silent a moment. Then he said, “Never mind. Just… get home. Make it happen. Max out your card, or my card, whatever you need to do. I’ll send you an email with my info.”

  “That’s what you didn’t want repeated?”

  “Yes. Well, no, but I shouldn’t tell you anything over the phone. I’ll tell you when you get home.”

  “Tell me what?”

  “Be careful?”

  Mina snorted. “Yes.”

  Lincoln stayed silent.

  “Hey,” she said. “Everything’s going to be fine.” Mina cringed at her own words. She’d promised herself not to say that. Better her than him, though.

  “Sure, yeah. I know.”

  When they hung up, Mina got back in line, but when she reached the counter, she received the same disappointing response as the day before. Begrudgingly, she positioned herself near a row of packed chairs. Finding an empty seat in the crowded airport was like looking for a parking space in a full parking lot. Every time a spot opened up, twenty people maneuvered around to it. Mina watched attentively, ready to slide into one as soon as someone moved to use the restroom.