by Marcus Sloss
“Oh shit!” Willow exclaimed.
“See, this is why I like you Willow.” I looked at the afternoon sun. “We need to head home now, mainly because my story is coming to a close, and there will be enough time to talk later. How about we keep walking instead of taking a taxi?”
“Okay,” she agreed. “So, you were one of those left behind … I thought Mrs. Teller was kidding.”
I sighed. A bird gliding against a head wind seemed to hover in place over our heads. The freedom of flight was amazing on so many levels. A frisbee spun through the air a few hundred feet away and the black lab that chased after it was enough to scare the bird off; it dove into a tree. The dog splashed into the pond to get its favorite toy. The joy on that dog’s face caused me to smile. We walked by the cursing owner, who tossed his hands in the air in frustration. I grinned at his choice words, I wouldn’t want to wash a dog who stood there dripping in duck poop water, either.
“We were trapped without rescue for way too long. I wished I was back in my cozy jail cell, only a few days into the nightmare.” I paused. “I am going to shift the conversation, a bit. We can come back to my abandonment in Saudi Arabia later. I want to figure out something that has bugged me since the moment I learned it about you,” I said and Willow blushed.
“No need to ask, I will tell,” she squawked, “I get kinky behind closed doors. Whips and chains excite me!” Willow’s eyes flared wide open, as she covered her mouth with her hands. “Sorry,” she eventually said, “didn’t mean to blurt that out. What I meant to say is that I like to keep things exciting … and even that was way too much information. You never heard a thing.” She blushed awkwardly while fidgeting. Her interest in adventurous bedroom fun was a surprise revelation, but not what had me stumped.
“Ha! You naughty girl.” I smiled, “No, Willow, that’s not what I was going to ask about. While a bonus, your bedroom deviations are awesome and not unreasonable, I was curious about why a girl who is smart enough to do anything she wants picked an anthropology major far away from her home in Kentucky. You could literally be anything with your G-SAT scores.”
“Oh, that one is easy. Ha! Really!?” she smirked, “You dig into my past and the one thing that you question is my choice of studies? Not the time I randomly went skydiving or the time I convinced Mom to take camping in the mountains for two weeks during bear season?” Willow frowned, “What is wrong with anthropology?”
In one minute, she reflected a wide range of emotions with her remarks. The last one sounded like I may have slightly offended her. We left the park as we crossed the street on the way back to campus. I watched her watching me. My goal was to start to learn her tells, but the young woman was good at masking her emotions. There. Her blue eyes darted away and back with a slight slump of her shoulders.
I frowned. “Anthropology has very few careers opportunities after college. I would expect to be asked the same questions, if I were in your shoes. Why Denver and what do you expect to do when you get your degree?”
“Be all that you can be,” Willow said while patting my bare back. “Oh, I mean, I get free schooling because of my father’s sacrifice. DU is doing a veteran come-back and…”
“Oh!” I smiled, “I get it now. Oddly enough, that is the same reason I am here. Funny. Also, be all that you can be! … an oldie but a goodie.” She smiled back at me. “So, you came to Denver to take a degree in a field purely because it interested you with the intent of going into the military after college. But since the Saudi fiasco, they waved degrees for officers. Your G-SAT scores are …”
“Oh, I guess there is some information you are missing that might make things more clear. When my father deployed, he left behind ‘the letter’. A handwritten note on an actual piece of paper. In it, he begged me to go to college if he died overseas. That was his one big wish. He spelled college with one ‘L’ instead of two.” Willow leaned into me and I wrapped an arm around her. “So, I picked anthropology because I wanted to learn more about the development of our societies, our culture. Honestly, though, I find it boring so far.”
“You still set on being a soldier?” I asked with a raised eyebrow. “I know a few great teachers. Jevon gets here tomorrow, and … well there is me. The Pew-Pew Emporium has a good buddy of mine working at it. Torrez, a great soldier, and a good man.”
“Wait?” she stopped, “Are you building a team?”
“Yes.” I smiled. “Are you interested?”
“Yes!” she blushed, “I mean, I can shoot, camp, and hunt, but I am not a soldier, though. Why me? Just … I think I know, but want to hear you say it.”
“Willow, I have to admit something … in Saudi, I lost my ability to feel. That is one reason I have been so slow to take advantage of our budding relationship.” I frowned. “I even shut out old friends I should not have.”
Her pink hair flipped back over her shoulder as she gave me an odd look. I saw her brows furl and her head tilted in confusion, “That is not what I was expecting you to say.”
“You are going to be more than just a member of our team. Hmm… I am a usually a confident, decisive man Willow.” I said as I frowned down at her. “My exit evaluations said I have emotional detachment syndrome, PTSD, and anxiety.”
“I am not following.”
“I want to save you, Willow. You are a strong, intelligent woman when you focus,” I said and then tapped her forehead. “I want to be your boyfriend. I know you can protect yourself, but I can do that too. Ugh…” I threw my hands up in the air, “See, I am bad at this. I struggle with feelings, Willow.” I blew out a quick breath and closed my eyes. “In Saudi, I became a calculating death-dealing machine. I have struggled to become ‘normal’ again, if there even is such a thing as normal anymore. I want to be a good man. I want to settle down, find a wife, bounce a few kids on my knee and live the good life. I cannot be that person right now and it haunts me.”
Willow slipped her fingers into mine and returned us to the sidewalk with a slight tug. I could already see a difference in her attitude. The shine in her eyes and warmth of her smile was infectious. I’d had a hard time even smiling and found faking the emotion of joy my best distractor. When Willow looked me in the eyes, it was almost like the spark of our connection jump started my heart, as that shriveled organ turned on again, just in that moment.
“Let me summarize a bit here,” she paused, and bit her lip. “You have not been around women in a long time. Jail, the military, and then the loss of emotions left you in an emotionally quiet life.”
“Well, yes.” I responded, “While all of that is true, I-”
“Let me finish, Eric,” Willow said with a teasing wink. “You intended to fill your emotional void at some point, though probably without disaster hovering on the horizon. You wanted to fix things with me—slowly building up our relationship, until you felt confident enough about us to risk feeling again?” I nodded, and she continued, “A nod for yes… Good. So, you want to become better. However, you don’t feel you can until you weather this new storm. I think it’s time you told me what is going to happen that has shoved you beyond your comfort zone. I think I see in your eyes how difficult it was, telling me some of your past. You still lust though; I can read your body language. You want to devour me,” she grinned.
“Try as hard as I can, I am only but a man,” I grinned back.
“Did you just sublime me…?”
“What!? I love that song!” I shook my head. “Actually, that song was stuck in my head before the group therapy session… And it’s back, now.”
“You are adorable at times, Eric Yang. Tell me about this impending disaster and then … No, wait. First, hand me my necklace please, Sir!” Willow said and wiggled her eyebrows at me playfully.
We shifted off the sidewalk while I rummaged in my pockets and delivered the item as requested. The clasp locked around her graceful neck with the softest of clicks. Willow softly kissed my cheek. My proffered palm was accepted and I pulled her back ag
ainst my chest. As she relaxed into my embrace, my left forearm fell down beside hers and I paired our Gpads. Before she could ask what was happening, I sent her the file Dr. Gepstein sent me. Pulling up her arm to see what the file contained, she blurted out a gasped obscenity at the holographic image it depicted. Her horrified initial reaction was exactly what I had expected.
CHAPTER 3
“This can’t be real,” Willow said in a soft whisper. “I have to watch it again. My mind refuses to accept what my eyes have witnessed.”
The image hovered over her Gpad. In the three-inch-long by two-inch-wide wrist device generated holographic rendering, a large asteroid hurtled through space, with a trail of small debris streaming behind it in a long tail. At first glance, it seemed completely rational to view a large rock hurtling through the void of space.
‘Communication received’, however, was stenciled over the bottom half of the hologram.
This next portion I had watched over a hundred times. A fraction of a second later, the asteroid shimmered. The appearance of the massive rock suddenly pixelated, revealing an oddly shaped spacecraft. The trailing debris behind the asteroid pixelated to reveal an exhaust plume. The hull of the ship was sleek with smooth contours. Clear viewports were illuminated by interior lighting that contrasted against the reflective hull. Two covers slid back on each side of the craft to reveal balls of energy charging inside what appeared to be weapon ports. Twin eruptions of power shot out from the ship. As the projectiles sped away, the ship returned to its asteroid appearance in less than a second. The video went blank shortly after.
‘Satellites Hoskin and Lana destroyed. 4:31 Zulu on 1-19-32’
“This was months ago.”
“Keep watching.”
‘Dr. Gepstein has had his clearance removed. He spammed out this message to six thousand contacts. Your name has been removed from the list. Best wishes, a helping friend.’
I smashed some buttons on her Gpad. A news story of Gepstein hanging himself last night popped up. He committed suicide, reportedly, due to overwhelming grief from leaking false data regarding a hoax. At least that is what the article said. When Willow wrinkled her nose in a questioning look, I nodded in agreement at her disbelief. The news story was a cover-up.
My conversation this morning before the ‘struggles’ counseling session had been with my battle-buddy, Jevon. We were going to treat this as one hundred percent real. The two of us had no doubt Dr. Gepstein was trying to help, or that the brilliant man would never kill himself.
“Oh my. Do you think you are under surveillance?” Willow wondered and I sighed.
“Doubtful, but better safe than sorry. Specialist Torrez would have gotten this message as well. Pew-Pew Emporium was going to be my very next stop,” I said as I stepped back onto the sidewalk. Willow trotted to catch up. “The RV stores are mostly closed for the weekend. Well, the one I want to buy from is anyway. Today I planned on buying guns. Tomorrow, I wanted to go real estate shopping, the agents work weekends, thankfully.”
“So, Eric. That is a single ship. Surely you cannot be worried about one ship…” Willow chewed on her lip, “Right?”
“I will get into that in a moment. That video was from two months ago. Have you noticed anything in the news or in your life that is different?” I asked with my left brow arched.
“No,” she returned my look, “should I have?”
“Yes and no. I have. Where are all our fleets?” I asked and she tapped in a query on her Gpad, but the information was unavailable—an error on her Gpad came back as if the Gnet was broken. I frowned, watching her arm. I gave a loud disgruntled hmm… “That is new. They must know that others know. I bet this information is leaking big time as the knowledge spreads. Fleet locations was the first thing I looked at when the good doctor sent me a heads up. His warning simply told me to check the posturing of my arm.”
“You extrapolated from a coded message about your arm to check our military readiness?” she tapped her chin in thought, “Did Dr. Gepstein install your cybernetic arm?”
“Yes, and before you think I am some wizard, his first message was part code. Dr. Gepstein and I happened to debate one time during an early fitting of my arm how long the good ole USA had known about the coming Saudi war. The Dr. believed that in 2028 the first signals were sent. Fleet posturing was the basis for his guess, and some odd fleet movements that made no sense at the time had started then. He argued that repositioning hundreds of ships was always a precursor to hidden conflict.” I smirked, “And you are correct, Dr. Gepstein was the lead scientist who built my arm.”
“What else did you find when you searched?” she asked.
“There were a few stories about soldiers recalled from leave. Some naval ships being spotted in fishing waters off North Carolina that should have stayed in the Middle East. And finally, extra training everywhere, as a sudden budget increase filled the coffers of the Department of Defense.” I frowned, “There was a single article about unlimited funds diverting -”
“Fuck me!” Willow blurted out and her hands shot up to cover her mouth. We were waiting for a walk signal beside a mom carrying her toddler on her hip. Willow received an angry scowl from the woman. “I am so sorry ma’am.” She waved apologetically at the woman before turning to me. “That must be why my UBI was short this month. I got eight hundred instead of twelve hundred, but the missing amount was sent a few days later, so I didn’t think anything about it.”
“Our government probably borrowed money from idiot governments not in the know. Bulgaria is loaning out at twelve percent and emptying their coffers, not having a clue about what is coming. Speaking of finances suddenly appearing,” I said and screened my Gpad to show Willow my bank account balance. Her face was perplexed by what she saw and I realized the large figure was scrambled to prevent others from viewing. I closed it and leaned in close to tell her. “I was sent money. From whom or where I do not know. I had seventeen grand in my account last night when I went to bed,” I breathed quietly into her ear, “I woke up with eleven million and change.”
“Shut the front door!” Willow exclaimed and the mom who was now ahead of us glared back at us with squinted beady eyes. “Oh, come on,” Willow pouted, “that one is okay!”
I pulled Willow into a quick hug. “We will laugh about this someday, I fear.”
“What do you mean?” She wriggled out of my grasp, “There is nothing comical about a self-righteous mom with her toddler.”
“Willow, there is going to probably be a lot of chaos, mayhem, and death. In a couple of weeks, when we think about a mom being offended by ‘shut the front door’ … Yeah, we will find it silly. Let me get back to the point you made about it only being a single ship. Don’t make the mistake of assuming their technology isn’t light-years ahead of us.” I squeezed her hand again and smiled to take away the sting of my words. “Look, last year, we discovered laser fusion that allowed gun manufacturers to produce the las-rifle. Ugh. I hate that name. Anyways, imagine me with the laser rifle in the middle ages. I could perch outside a city and snipe an army until my finger fell off. There would be no competition. A charge of heavy cavalry—the best that could be fielded militarily at the time—could be massacred with enough battery packs. My point is, we do not have a ship that can do anything close to what that ship can likely do. Its weapons are probably vastly superior to what we have … and they are not talking, Willow, not a word.”
“How do you know?” Willow said as she showed fear for the first time.
“Logical conclusion.” I wish I could better explain the way this all seemed so incredibly wrong to me. “I bet President Hansen is desperate to spread the message that we are being visited by a friendly alien species. I know I would. Instead, there has been absolutely nothing about this asteroid being an alien craft. Which, to me, means the enemy is coming and they will crash through the gates.”
“What is your plan?” she looked at me with those huge blue eyes.
“Do y
ou mean, what is our plan?” I asked hesitantly. Willow spun the necklace around her neck while thinking. I raised an eyebrow. “You in?”
“Oh, I was in when I accepted this lovely gift. It has been a long time since a boy… man in your case, wanted to learn more about me than what I look like naked. I will happily be your apocalypse girlfriend.” She hugged my arm. “Sorry, I hesitated there for a moment—I am coming up with my own ‘to do list’ to prepare,” Willow said and then proceeded to tap furiously on her Gpad.
The whine of an electric car sounded as a vehicle came to a stop a few feet in front of us. The door facing the sidewalk popped open and a chime sounded both inside the car and on her Gpad.
“Eric Yang, you get to make my kitty purr. Take me gun shopping!” Willow said as she dove into the auto-taxi. “These stupid things are recorded and monitored on a big screen. So how about we enjoy the ride? I always wanted to splurge and get first-class seats with massaging options.”
“Oh, I was wondering why you were getting in the front … thank you for thinking about that. Here is your sweater. I’ll need my shirt back before I get in,” I said, tossing Willow’s furry blue sweater into the auto-taxi. My shirt came flying out a moment later. “Thanks,” I said and leaned in to look at the displayed map to the Pew-Pew Emporium, “Eighteen minutes of silence. I can say this though. I am happy you are coming.”
“This is the one adventure I think I have always dreamed about, in an odd way.” She giggled, “More on that later. The second that door closes, the recording starts.”
