by Grant Fausey
"WARNING," spouted the computerized emergency system. "INTER-DIMENSIONAL DISRUPTION IN PROGRESS."
That was the last thing Samuel Nomad heard, before all hell broke loose.
– 29 –
DISRUPTION
• • •
THE THIRD UNIVERSE
THIRD DIMENSION
The center of the tree city was an upheaval of chaos and confusion. Disorder was running rampant throughout the streets. Time and space were warping into a new matrix of interconnected pathways and byways. The air itself had somehow become different. Hot and sticky, filled with sweat producing humidity. Snow began to fall in the rainforest, blizzard winds coursed the mountain peaks of the winter wonderlands to the north, and dust storms raced across the surface of the land locked skies of the southern universes. What was happening in one universe seemed to be happening in all universes. The future course of mankind was only a mere trinket in a chain of cataclysmic events that the universe had unleashed into infinite horizons. Even the Governor Colonel was swinging wildly at the twists of fate. He had taken refuge aboard his Roman shuttle, and was refusing to let anyone leave the city until he had apprehended Samuel Nomad. He was tempting fate. Contact with the Nexus meant instant assimilation. The Netherlands Nexus expanded to nearly three times its size. Its spherical shaped filled the sky from horizon to horizon. Lightning struck the clouds, the surface, the mountains, arched across the thresholds of a dozen universes then stretched out to strike at the heart of the tree city.
The ground rocked from the impact of the bolt. The wooden floors of the main street it had passed through on its journey to the surface of the planet sizzled with burnt embers and twisted metal fragments. The Governor Colonel watched the approaching storms from the cockpit of his shuttle. The thresholds of two opposing universes seemed to blend around the edge of the Nexusphere, co existing in the same space at the same time. "That's impossible," said the Governor Colonel, taking great strides as he looked at the pilot seated in the cockpit next to him, with his finger on the firing trigger. He was ready to punch his way out into space; to put as much distance as possible between the Nexusphere and the shuttle as humanly possible. But the Governor Colonel wouldn't give the order. He watched the instruments as his troopers covered the city, crisscrossing the platforms, searching the shops and gangways in a relentless search for something they would never find Samuel Nomad.
"Maintain your posture, Mr. Krell," said the Governor Colonel. "Keep engines at stand by. We leave on my command, not before!"
"Understood," clamored the pilot; his voice echoing with the slightest amount of fear. Anything more would mean his own death. The Governor Colonel couldn't stand frailty; especially, human frailty.
"Commander," snapped the slimy dignitary. "Have your men sweep the edge of the threshold. If Nomad's here that's where he will emerge. He won't chance being caught up in the Nexus."
The communications link arced with static. "Commander," repeated the Governor Colonel. But still there was no answer, just the relentless static. The commander was gone. Assimilated into the vortex of the advancing sphere of death that approached them. "Take off captain," announced the Romantic leader. "Hover near the threshold to the sphere. I'll locate this Nomad my self." The officer obeyed, but reluctantly. One false move now would mean his death. His feet depressed the pedals and his grip tightened on the throttles. He pushed the levers forward, pushing the exhaust of the hover engines to full power. The ship lifted into the air, and spun around on its axis, bring the nose to bear on the threshold of the Netherlands Nexus.
"Take us in," said the Governor Colonel. "Keep us at zero feet." The pilot nodded. He looked closely at the ground, keeping one eye on his instruments while the other was on the obstructions and obstacles that were before him. "Zero feet!" he repeated. As the Governor Colonel searched the immediate horizon, the pilot shifted his hand down along the side of his seat and released the safety mechanism on his ejection system. If by some reason his ship was caught up in the vortex, he had a means of escape.
"Three degrees to port," said the dignitary. "Keep us level, Mr. Krell." The pilot obeyed. "Now straighten us up. Take us to within twenty feet of the vortex and keep us steady." The order was like a spear being stabbed into his back, but the pilot obeyed. Anything less and he would have been dead already. The Governor Colonel had a low profile on insubordination. Immediate death was his remedy to most situations, especially, insubordination.
"Twenty feet," echoed the pilot's voice. The shuttle pivoted toward the main platform, following the edge of the Netherlands Nexus vortex threshold. "Keep an eye peeled, Captain. We'll only have a moment." Then he saw them: Three men and a woman; two of them injured. "Nomad," snapped the Governor Colonel. "Two degrees to port bring our guns to bare."
The pilot acknowledged. The safety on the weapons went from red to green and flashed on stand by. The Nexusphere expanded again. Erupting with electrical arcs that raced across the threshold in a hundred directions. The surface of the Nexus turned cloudy, pulsated and began a metamorphosis, expanding across the thresholds to the universe of the tree city. Samuel Nomad ran had, pulling and pushing at Trinod Rex at the same time. Jake and Jennifer were right behind him, making tracks across the crumbling platform. The floorboards were literally vaporizing in a mishmash of spiraling, blizzard ridden collapsing of the barriers between the universes. The vortex threshold expanded again, thrusting outward in a pulsating breath that nearly covered the tiny group of escaping individuals. Jennifer tripped, falling flat on her face. She watched behind her as Jake stern pulled her from the ground.
The crumbling edge of the threshold advanced on her position, leaping across the platform with a vengeance that disrupted the very structure of reality. Jake could see the trees, the platforms even the screaming remnant of humanity being swept up in the assimilation.
"Come on," Jake screamed at Jennifer. She hurried, despite her injuries.
"Stand by," snapped the Governor Colonel. "Steady..." He wasn't going to let the Nexus take his revenge. Not after all he had gone through to find Nomad. He wasn't going to lose his change now. The vortex expanded again, engulfing everything. "Fire" shouted the Governor Colonel. But the pilot never had a chance. The levers below his thumb never had the opportunity to close the gunnery circuit. The guns never had the change to wail with the explosive rattling that signified discharge. The pilot reached for his ejection lever, but his fingers never reached the handle. The sound of thunder echoed in his ears. The smell of burning rubble clouded his nostrils. But the screams of the Governor Colonel never reached his ears. The surface in front of Samuel Nomad turned to grains of sand, being flung out into infinity in a wind of sheer terror. The essence of everything he knew was being swept away like dirt on the streets of some unseen universal plaza. Life itself couldn't escape the Nexus.
Jennifer screamed.
Trinod Rex screamed, but nether voice reached the ears of Samuel Nomad. No touch reached out to grab at him as they vanished into the swirling vortex of the threshold. Samuel screamed as his own body, elongated into the swirling mass, being stretched out into infinity. His eyes bulged, his hair pulled even his fingers ached. Then he saw it: The brilliance within the vortex, the essence of life beyond the threshold. The brilliance illuminated everything. Covered every wall, every curve with the essence of brilliance so brilliant that it was beyond illumination, beyond the glow of life itself. The Nexus was the Source. The soul of souls: The central sun of infinite universes. It's life-giving essence stretched out like pillars of light into the vastness of time and space.
In a multitude of angles and directions that encircled the sphere in a concave luster of brilliance stretched out into infinity. Samuel felt his own being expanded: His own life pass before his eyes. He was more than man, more than mortal being. He was somehow connected to the Source. Worlds dropped away, planets and universes. The Nexus was the universe––The center of everything that existed.
Samuel turned to face
a new direction and saw the green earth below his feet, the glow of the sun's warmth on his future, the past, even the present represented in time and space. Yet, no time existed here. He was in the essence of the Source. His lives passed before him, like in a chorus of review. The cloudless sky darkened to nothing more than overcast grey, but that didn't matter. Matthew Johnson was beside him again, following the trail from the main concourse to the outer rim's land based shuttle terminal. Rain or shine, Samuel knew they would make the run together. Samuel was depending upon him.
"Ready," said the strong, vibrant voice of the slender, reddish skinned dignitary. Samuel was talking to himself. Matthew Johnson looked up. Samuel remembered seeing silhouetted individuals against the round, cone shaped entrance to the shuttle's main compartment. Matthew smiled, gave a gesture of welcome. He had just taken a seat in the center of the cabin.
"Good morning, General," he said cheerfully. Samuel nodded a casual acknowledgement. Matthew always called him the general. But it was a nickname, not a title. Samuel remembered the teachings. The small rooms cluttered with books, boards and the irritating smell of sweaty men, training in combat. They were the best. He had studied under the best military minds in the business. He knew Matthew considered him to be his intellectual superior. But he never knew why. The pride had come from watching him in a match. But Samuel had never been in the match were the pride had originated, the art of classic Hydarean combat, four Presidential awards, a Hydare Trophy and three Industries tours to his credit. Fate had made him desirable, the company popular, but to Samuel, it seemed to be just good showmanship, which had propelled him to the top. Nevertheless, Samuel realized, this wasn't his accomplishment, but rather that of another Samuel Nomad: His doppelganger in another universe.
Matthew dashed around the interior of the ship with a relative ease that made Samuel uncomfortable. "We'll be ready for egress in just a few minutes, Mr. Nomad," he said calmly. "Just take a seat and have a transcendental moment. I'll be right with you."
Samuel observed, his attendant’s long fingers course over the instrument panels, making minor adjustment to a bank of colored lights. The ship instantly lit up, ready for departure. "Sorry for the delay," Matthew whispered.
"No problem," Samuel answered calmly. "We're a few minutes ahead of scheduled departure." Matthew breathed easy. It wasn't the end of life, as he knew it. The shuttle formed around him like some three dimensional hologram of his creation. The ship was quaint a relatively shallow craft with room for the flight officer and two passengers. The apex of the compartment slung low into the cabin, suspended a half-meter above Samuel's head. The ceiling dropped sharply into the seating area at a blunt angle in front of him. Samuel gazed over at the twin, highly cushioned seats with familiarity. He had endured this journey numerous times before, but never in his own universe. However, after careful examination, he concurred that everything was the same. Nothing had changed since his last trip. At least, it appeared that nothing had. Samuel kept his eyes open, he wasn't completely sure of what he was experiencing. It seemed his world hadn't changed, but something was different in minor ways that appeared correct, but affected his daily life. He just couldn't put his finger on it. His fate was undetermined. Something was causing the feelings of deja vu.
There had always been ample room for his relatively normal sized body. He stood six foot six on new Earth, but here in space, on this coffin-sized starship, destined into the unknown he was considered a giant. The ship started to whine. The twin electro magnetic compensators kicked in, powering up by the thrust of unseen machinery.
"All right, Sir," said the shorter, white skinned hybrid pilot. Samuel stared at him. It wasn't Matthew Johnson who piloted the ship, but some alien figure he was unfamiliar with. "We've begun our departure, General," said the creature. The universes again transposed. Time and space were again gone. The FASTEN SEAT BELTS sign clicked on in the back of the panel right in front of Samuel followed by the traditional clanging bell. Samuel nodded. He was back with Matthew. It was a positive acknowledgement. The compartment door sealed at the rear of the ship with a hissing noise. Samuel looked up and a window appeared, forming a translucent opening in the slanted panel before him.
"Raising shields," announced the odd little pilot, his voice echoing in well-worn overtures of pre-departure rituals: "D. Com," he commanded. "This is S. C. T., departing. Glide path locked in. Ready for acceleration. It's over to you." S. C. T.
Samuel had never heard this command, or had he? It was uncanny. A computerized voice barking orders across the communications device into the craft in answer to his stated query, speaking loudly in an alien dialect he didn't recognize! Samuel Nomad's ears perked up. Again, there was an alteration to what he considered normal.
Matthew adjusted a switch marked MATTER/FEED GAIN. He smiled at the individual on the holo-grid in front of him, acknowledging his repetitive conversation. An electrical field arched over the shuttle, radiating from the bottom panels of the pear shaped vehicle. The machine lifted into the air on a cushion of electromagnetism and pivoted sharply, taking on an electrical field, which gave it the appearance of transformation: That of a distinct disk. A moment later, the vehicle shot straight up, disappearing into the heavens.
"Departure nominal," said the pilot, looking over the holo image of another passenger as it formed in the seat next to Samuel Nomad.
"Okay," he said smiling. "We're clear." The image looked at Samuel seeing his shocked appearance. "Sorry for the intrusion, General Nomad," he said calmly, trying not to incite a heart attack. "But there is a matter of the utmost importance I believe you should be made aware of."
Samuel hesitated, figuring his response. His broad shoulders twitched. He had the same air about him that most of the Alpha Renetta had. He was a hybrid ... a new breed of human. One destined to recolonize the Earth.
Samuel reviewed the image long forgotten early in the Atlantean age, the Earth had undergone a series of changes. Alterations to its tectonic plates: The land/water ratios changed, leaving forty percent less mass above the surface. But now it was a different time. The image of the late twenty-first century came to mind. Mankind again found itself at the brink of disaster. Devastating earth movements had again reclaimed land and continental configurations. Earth history had changed mankind, giving birth to the Alpha Elite.
Groups of inter-dimensional travelers had been selected to be the testing ground for a new race. One destined to settle the surface of a new Earth. This was a grand plan ... one orchestrated by the higher powers of the universe. Man was about to evolve, and Samuel Nomad knew it. But with the wide spread knowledge of the infractions and splits in the universal future, no one was sure of the impact another manufactured race would have on the temperateness of the known universe. Not even the Source itself. Legend of the company was strong in some of the coexisting futures. Variations had become as random as life itself. Samuel remembered visiting several individual paths to ascertain the damages done by the Industries' corporate hierarchy.
"What sort of news do you have for me, Michael Tyler?" Samuel asked himself, hearing the answer in his head. "We've lost another future to the Industries. Vex Redford made the discovery."
The image of Matthew Johnson went silent.
"I'd better not say," he whispered, after a long pause. "Open channels." He was pointing out the obvious. "I'm sure he will tell you himself when he has enough information," he continued. "For now, let's suffice it to say... All men were not created equal. At least, not in the eyes of the Alpha Renetta."
"I understand," said Samuel Nomad, remembering the conversation with Trinod Rex. He smiled. "Just a change of plans that's all, Samuel. You're father asked me to relay his disappointment. But he will be delayed. It seems Rooka had returned to haven at request. He's scheduled for arrival tonight."
Who or what was a Rooka? Thought Samuel aloud. What would change his father's plans?
“Keeping tabs on the temporal waves," said the image. "I'll join you as s
oon as possible. Keep me informed."
Samuel realized the importance of the message. It had been a dream. All his life had been a dream. He had experienced infinite wisdom. It wasn't his natural father that had given him the feeling of deja vu, or the messages, but rather his ethereal father, the Source that had bestowed upon him the vision of the future. But now that he had the answers, what was expected of him. Samuel pondered the thought and so did the universe. Samuel awoke on the shore of a beautiful sea. The Nexus had returned him, but to where?
He had no way of knowing.
NEW AMERICA
HUNA: When desperation and desire created in the image of delusion spring forth the to answer the need for retribution, then and only then, can the light of the Source reenter life and set the stage for evolution to take place.
From the Journals of Maccon
– 30 –
RESTORATION
• • •
THE THIRD UNIVERSE
THIRD DIMENSION
Samuel Nomad sat on the beach, thinking from morning until dusk. The warm California sun had pressed its heat upon him, leaving telltale signs of both sunburn and windburn. The afternoon sunlight had taken a toll on his reddish skin. The glow of the Los Angeles islands had just begun to "pop on" here and there, giving the illusion of cities on the sea. The waves crashed higher on the beach, rushing up along where he sat, his legs and feet stretched out into the surf. New America was a wondrous place, he thought. Filled with the remnant of the old and the prosperity of the new. He knew finally were he was. But the why still frazzled him. This wasn't a world under siege, except perhaps by its own inhabitance. He'd studied the fine young bodies on the beach, admiring the finely honed physiques. The soft, tender sun tans of glittering golden brown Barbie Doll shaped woman, with nothing to hide except maybe their pride. They were indeed beautiful. Yet, he wondered. Was this New Haven? Had he been lucky enough to be deposited on the top of everyone else's hit parade. He didn't know for sure. But he was thankful for being alive. Or was he? Had he died in the threshold of the Nexus? Again he wondered. There wasn't a sign of the sphere anywhere in the sky. It was as if the presence of the universe had stopped and let him off as if he didn't have the fare to ride the ride any longer. Nevertheless, he was here, wherever here was.
