by Nesly Clerge
Karl went to the secured door at the back of the lab. Hiding his fingers, he keyed in the code and opened the door just wide enough for him to slip inside.
I glanced at the other workers. Two of them gave brief sidelong looks to each other then returned to their work. I occupied myself by organizing my files on the activator’s computer.
By the time I left at five o’clock, Karl still hadn’t come out.
ENTRY 40
The remainder of the week was more active on my part, though, tedious more often than not. After a few stumbles Tuesday morning that caused Karl to grit his teeth, I managed to begin to merge some of my files into the activator’s internal system. It was a required process, and I could tell it wasn’t going to go as quickly as I might have anticipated: I had over a decade’s worth of complex data to integrate with the more advanced technology. Some translation was required, a matter which caused me to doubt the true intelligence of the activator’s creators. It should have been a simple upload, ready to go. But I was determined to succeed.
Karl spent most of his time in the secured room. I hardly saw him.
I returned home every night ready to crawl into bed, but couldn’t, of course. My girls needed my full attention and energy. I did, indeed, sleep like the dead at night, once I stopped going over translations and unfamiliar programming in my mind, and wondering how and when I might discover what was going on in the private room.
No word from Michael; though, I kept watch for any signs, hoping I didn’t miss them, knowing it would be easy to do.
Friday evenings, my girls could stay up until nine thirty, as long as they bathed before we requested a movie. Popcorn popped, the four of us settled in. Halfway through the movie a downpour began. The storm grew worse rapidly. Thunder crashed so loud and incessantly, I had to request the volume be increased. My girls huddled on each side of me on the sofa. About fifteen minutes later, KATE interrupted the viewing for a province-wide bulletin.
“Good evening, Province One citizens,” KATE said. “I’m sorry to intrude on whatever you’re doing at the moment, but as you’ve noticed, the weather is not very pleasant. Order scientists are working diligently to fix this so that the rest of your evening goes well. This isn’t a matter of great concern, but it’s perhaps best that you remain inside, wherever you are, until the storm stops. Taxi service will resume once the storm is over. Enjoy your evening.”
We finished the movie, though our enjoyment was tainted by the storm and the weather announcement—a first, at least in our part of Province One. Considering the province included fourteen of what used to be states, it was a large storm, indeed.
After the movie, I tucked the girls in. Sara read to them then went to her room.
In my bedroom, in the dark, I stood at the window that faced the street. Thick sheets of heavy raindrops made our usually bright street lamps mere pinpricks of light. Lightning flared, and I saw water beginning to accumulate on the street. We’d had heavy rains before, but never a flooding issue. Urban center drains had been designed with pumps to remove rain almost as soon as it fell, and were always efficient.
I rested my hand over my hidden cross and watched the harsh wind push the rain in nearly horizontal streaks along the street.
I hope you’re somewhere safe.
ENTRY 41
Everyone in my house, as well as the province, was awakened by KATE at five the next morning.
“Attention, Province One citizens. I’m sorry to disturb your Saturday morning so early, but we have an unprecedented weather event occurring. Our scientists believe they will have this matter resolved shortly. In the meantime, all citizens are to remain indoors, where they are, until further notice. Although our excellent drains are functioning, there is accumulation on roadways. Taxis are suspended until further notice. In the event of a personal emergency, we will employ our all-terrain vehicles. All shopping fulfillment is suspended until further notice.”
KATE’s transmission faltered for a few seconds.
“Again, remain indoors until further notice. Updates will be provided as needed.”
I bolted from bed to look out the nearest street-side window. Illumination from street lamps was all but obliterated. It took a moment for me to remind myself that it was so dark out because it was still early. Then I heard my girls calling for me. Sara, whose room was closer, was with them when I arrived.
Nellie and Kellie were half asleep and half crying. Sara and I took turns comforting each of them.
I said, “It’s early, not even first light yet. Let’s tuck you back in, snug as cute-as-button bugs, and you go back to sleep.”
“How about I read to you?” Sara asked them.
The girls nodded.
Nellie, younger than Kellie by seven minutes, with her eyes mostly closed, stumbled from her bed to Kellie’s and got in. The girls wrapped their arms around each other, moving closer until their faces were two inches apart on the pillow, something they’d done since infants to comfort themselves or the other.
“Read until they nod off,” I told Sara. “Then get more sleep yourself. I can stay up with you, if you’d like.”
Sara yawned. “No need. This won’t take more than a few minutes. They’re almost out as it is.”
“See you for coffee.”
I returned to my room and hoped the weather situation was remedied by the time we got up for breakfast. I’d wrangled an appointment at the gardens for that afternoon.
ENTRY 42
When my eyes opened again, it was still dark out. I figured I’d slept only a few minutes, and it felt like it. I checked the time on my mother’s watch kept in the nightstand drawer: Eleven thirty. The storm was still going.
“KATE, I’d like an update on the weather situation, please.”
“Good morning, Gayle. Weather updates are forthcoming. Have a nice day.”
KATE switched off, without providing so much as the temperature.
I shuffled toward the kitchen. Sara was seated at the dining table, her hands wrapped around a steaming mug of coffee. I filled my own mug and joined her.
“KATE doesn’t seem to be as chatty as usual,” I said.
“I noticed. Maybe the Order’s embarrassed that their brilliant scientists haven’t figured out what to do. Maybe their weather equipment malfunctioned and they don’t want to own up to it.”
“Maybe a protester who’s smarter than they are hacked into it and gave it a virus. That would be embarrassing for them.”
Sara sipped from her mug then said, “Think I should wake the girls?”
“Let’s enjoy our coffee. They’ll wake when they smell breakfast cooking.” We grinned at each other.
***
The weather didn’t clear. KATE’s updates were sporadic and brief, with no real information, only the warning to stay inside.
Nellie and Kellie wanted to remain in their pajamas all day, but I told them to get dressed like any other day. I didn’t add, In case we have to run for our lives.
They tried playing in their room but were soothed more by staying in the living room with Sara and me, watching movie after movie, with occasional distortions in the hologram.
Around three that afternoon, I went to my bedroom to look out the window. I did that so as not to scare the girls. It was still pitch out, and I could hear the usually silent drain pumps working hard. A racket started outside, off to my right. The Doppler effect indicated whatever caused the noise was coming closer. The sign from the ice cream place hit my house a few feet from where I stood then continued to be blown by the violent wind end-over-end down the street.
The girls and Sara rushed in. “Just some loose litter,” I said. “Nothing to worry about.” After about the fifth such racket, I stopped going to the window to check. It seemed smarter to stay away from the windows, and I advised the others to do the same.
Almost as soon as I said that, a crash and the sound of shattering glass had me up and in my bedroom in a flash. The top portion of a street la
mp protruded three feet through the window nearest my bed. The four of us stood in the doorway, stunned. I told my girls it was okay; that they were to go back to the sofa. The street lamp was too heavy for the two of us to move, so Sara got a hammer and nails, and together we covered the window with my comforter.
“I’ll clean up the glass,” Sara said.
“Leave it. It’s not safe to stay in here.”
Sara read to the girls that night then the two of us sat together on the sofa, speaking in low tones.
“KATE’s not talking at all,” I said.
“Probably hasn’t got anything good to say, like when they’re going to shut this storm down.”
“If everyone has to stay confined much longer, it won’t be good.”
“Glad I got the food shopping done and delivered before it started. Anyone who thought they’d get it done today … I feel sorry for them.”
I nodded and thought about Michael’s and Kingsley’s prophecies. I patted Sara’s arm and said, “Go to bed. I’m going to sleep here on the sofa tonight, just in case the girls need me.”
“Not to mention your room’s a hazard zone.”
Sara patted me back and left me alone with my thoughts. I grabbed a pillow and a spare blanket and returned to the living room for a few hours of restless sleep and dreams I could have done without.
It was the groaning that made me sit up. And the creaking. A portion of the roof lifted then slammed back down. I screamed for Sara to get the girls then checked for leaks but found none.
I had the girls move to the sofa to sleep. It took a half hour to settle them down. With the amazing resilience of children, they slept through the continuous racket going on outside that kept Sara and me awake nearly all night. I stayed alert, until exhaustion dragged me into the void.
ENTRY 43
I woke disoriented because I wasn’t in my room, and stiff because I’d slept in one of the living room chairs. Wind howled outside. The rain still pelted. The racket outside continued. I asked KATE for a weather update and got a curt reply that an announcement would be made at noon. So I waited, along with every other anxious person in the province.
At precisely noon, KATE flickered into view as promised. “Please stand by for Order Provinces Overseer Monroe.”
The hologram of Overseer Monroe standing behind her familiar lectern appeared. She looked severe in her red and black ensemble. I also noticed something new: She wore a gold cross on a chain. For a moment I believed she was one of us, or rather, them, as I wasn’t yet certain which side of this confusion I stood on. Then I realized her cross was inverted. Either the jeweler got it wrong, or it had some significance I’d have to ask Michael or Kingsley about.
“Greetings, citizens of Province One. Citizens already at their assigned workplaces are to remain in place until further notice. Return to work for all other citizens is suspended until further notice. Stay indoors wherever you are. This is for your safety. Any citizen caught outside will be arrested. Calls other than emergency requests are suspended until further notice. Have a peaceful day, citizens.”
Then KATE blinked out.
Sara said, “That was anti-climatic.”
I smiled and said, “I think you mean anticlimactic.”
“I said exactly what I meant.” Sara winked. “I’ll start lunch. Soup seems the ticket.”
The girls selected yet another movie and I joined Sara in the kitchen. Keeping my voice low I said, “I wonder what’s really going on.”
Sara blew out a breath. “A body would think it’s the end of the world or something.” She chuckled.
When I didn’t respond in kind, Sara looked at me and said, “That’s the strangest expression I’ve ever seen on your face.”
ENTRY 44
At 3:33 Tuesday afternoon, the storm stopped as suddenly as it had started the prior Friday evening. I can be exact about the time because KATE projected Overseer Monroe before everyone in Province One at 3:33:33.
Overseer Monroe, once again, stood at her lectern. “As you’re aware, the weather matter is resolved. However, you are advised to remain indoors until 7:00 a.m. At that time, you can then return to your usual work schedules. Those of you who remained at your workplaces are required to do so until that same time tomorrow. This is to facilitate debris removal resulting from sustained high winds. Taxi services cannot resume until all streets are cleared. There is to be no pedestrian or wheeled traffic until all sidewalks are cleared. We’ve tripled the number of our workers to accomplish these tasks by tomorrow morning. Calls are no longer restricted. Have a peaceful day, citizens.”
The four of us leaped from the sofa, jumping and cheering that our confinement was almost over.
KATE re-engaged, and Overseer Monroe’s image stood before us. “Shopping orders will be fulfilled as quickly as possible. We’ve retrieved ten thousand additional drones from storage to—”
The sound literally heard around the world stopped Overseer Monroe from completing her message.
It stopped everyone.
ENTRY 45
“Stay here,” I said. I rushed to the front door and opened it. A few people stood in the street amid a copious amount of debris that included downed street lamps, store signs, glass shards, roof shingles, unidentifiable bits of wood and metal, and other trash; others exited with hesitation from their houses and apartments. Several blocks away, smoke curled into the sky over a wide swath of flames. The fire seemed to rage across an entire urban block. I ran my gaze over rooftops and up and down the street, and realized numerous fires were blazing in the urban center. I felt grateful my block wasn’t one of them, and guilty about my relief.
A woman screamed and pointed toward the sky. More people did the same. I looked back at Sara and my girls. “Stay inside and away from the windows.”
I closed the door, made my way carefully through the mess to the middle of the street, and turned my eyes skyward. The sky was a blanket of static deep pewter cloud cover. Except for one area directly overhead where jet black clouds roiled in place, as though bubbling atop a cauldron. An orange aurora slowly began to intersperse and grew brighter, like flames burning through the black. Something was moving forward through the frothing glow.
Kingsley had spoken of an armada on its way. You might understand why I expected some alien craft to appear, but it wasn’t a craft. A hand, massive in scale, emerged, stopping at the wrist. Leaving who or what it belonged to obscured. The fingers curled slightly, until the hand was claw-like. As though ready to grab or crush something or someone. Or the world.
I wondered several things at once: Was this hand alien in nature, coming through a portal from another dimension, attempting and failing to open fully? A false-flag hologram? God getting our attention? KATE interrupted my contemplation.
“All citizens are to return indoors and remain inside until further notice.”
There was something I found particularly odd about KATE’s message: she didn’t limit indoor confinement to Province One.
ENTRY 46
The Order would have to provide an explanation. But it didn’t come until fourteen hours later.
The Order’s Global Spiritual Advisor spoke, rather than Overseer Monroe. He patted his comb-over, cleared his throat then began his message.
“Greetings, citizens of Earth.” (That confirmed my suspicion about how far-reaching the strangeness had been.) “Our world has witnessed an extraordinary event unlike any in recorded history. It is understandable that each of you wants to know what this is about. We are unable to confirm precisely what it was at this time, but as many of you have probably noticed, it has disappeared and the skies have cleared. Our scientists are working diligently on the matter.”
I’d avoided looking out the window so as not to frighten my children more than they already were, so zoomed to the front door and outside. The Advisor was right. I went back inside.
“We are not as yet ready to confirm,” he continued, “that the event was a communication from
a cosmic being, but we do ask you to consider and acclimate to the possibility. Should it turn out to be that way, our church leaders are prepared to minister to and baptize our cosmic brothers and sisters, if needed. But not before we hear what their own beliefs are, of course. We don’t wish to be so arrogant that we ignore the possibility that they are more spiritually advanced than we are. Be that as it may, the Order feels it is now safe for all of you to return to your normal routines and—”
The projection flickered. The Advisor’s hologram was replaced with one of a hand pointing accusingly at us. A voice began to speak.
“According to the Gospels of Matthew and Luke, ‘Just as it was in the days of Noah, so also will it be in the days of the Son of Man. It was the same in the days of Lot. People were eating and drinking, buying and selling, planting and building. But the day Lot left Sodom, fire and sulfur rained down from heaven and destroyed them all.’
“People of Earth, your Creator cleansed the world once before, so that we could have a fresh start, free from the wickedness of violence and perversion that oppressed the generations that came before us. The wickedness resumed not long after the flood. Wishing to save us yet again, the Creator—the one true God—sent his son, Jesus, to cleanse our souls and redeem us. But even after that selfless sacrifice, we allowed wickedness to cover the earth yet again. The end-times are at hand.
ENTRY 47
“You’ve allowed,” the voice continued, “others to convince you there is no Hell or accounting for your sins before your Father in Heaven. You’ve allowed them to convince you that all religions or spiritual practices lead to the same God. What you don’t realize is those others are engaged in a great deception: It’s their god—spelled with a small ‘g’—they want to you be led to, like sheep to slaughter. They don’t mention Jesus as your path to redemption. No, they tell you all is well. To keep doing whatever you want to, including depraved acts. Just as in Lot’s day. That there’s nothing to be forgiven for.
