She became silent, but again rose from her place. I followed, positioning myself behind her. I then wrapped my arms around her waist and pressed my chest to her back.
“Many will be afraid, there’s no helping that,” I said as calmly as I could express it.
“It’s just so randomly horrible though, isn’t it?” she asked, pulling away from me. I nodded back to her. She took a quick glance at the television and said, in a voice suppressed with lively antipathy, “I can’t stand some people at the firm. You know, I overheard Alun today, do you remember him? That fat fuck from my boss’s party last year? I heard him complaining about how this would affect his quarterly numbers, and I know he wasn’t the only one thinking it. Working with people like him makes me hate my job sometimes.”
“Don’t I keep telling you? Join me at UKI and you can teach some business classes. You’ll be much happier there.”
She stared at me with her most serious look and said, “But the pay is so shitty.”
I cracked a smile. She followed my lead. We then burst into a fit of contagious laughter.
Lizeth managed to remain home and didn’t return back to work as she would normally have done. In the interim, my hunger returned to me and I realized just how starved I really was. I ate the sandwich that I made earlier, with no heed to how long ago I made it, and immediately lamented leaving my hearty soup in my office. After shoving the miserable sandwich down my throat, I went to go take a quick shower, which took longer than I anticipated when Lizeth joined me. I suppose being reminded how fragile our existence was could make some feel the need to emphatically embrace life’s most precious moments. We remained in this blissful physical and mental state until the moment I had to go pick up Dayce from school. It was time for us to return back to reality.
Chapter Two
Revelations
When I observed Dayce approaching the car, he lacked his laugh and smile. I missed them already, fearing how little I would see those spectacles of joy in the coming future. He entered the backseat without saying a word. I had already come to the conclusion that I would let him confront the news first, so I merely continued to gauge his disposition. He remained in a contemplative state for several minutes into the drive, a sight that was so foreign for me to witness. The muteness seemed to grow between us with every sporadic glance I made to him in the rearview mirror, which happened as much as I was safely able.
Finally, after I thought he might be waiting to speak with his mother instead of me, he asked, “Are we going to get hit, too?”
I couldn’t help but grin a little, mainly because I was relieved to hear his voice, but also due to the manner in which he stated the question. It made me realize how simple the conversation could be. “No, Dayce,” I said with a lighter heart, making sure we locked eyes in the mirror. “Impacts like this are rare. It could be hundreds, maybe thousands of years before this happens again.”
“No one knows when it could happen, then?”
“Sometimes we can see it coming, but we have to learn not to live in fear of what could happen. I definitely wouldn’t be driving right now if that were the case. It wouldn’t be a healthy way to live.”
“So, you’re not afraid, Daddy?” he asked, his mood relaxing.
“Your mother wouldn’t marry a coward, would she? Her men have to be brave for her, Dayce, and then she won’t be afraid. Do you understand?”
“I understand.” He settled with a smile into the plush seats of the car. “I won’t make Mommy worry.”
This was the last conversation we had that day about the calamity. He was a resilient boy, and seemed, from my perspective, to be taking the tragedy rather well; better than I or his mother could have hoped. Taking what I said to heart, Dayce appeared to make his sole purpose to keep his mother distracted. Lizeth enjoyed the unusual amount of attention her son gave her. She listened with great diligence at everything he said, even wearing a wonderstruck expression that I found endearing. She made it seem as though he was disclosing a revolutionary new discovery to her, despite him just talking about his schoolwork or his favorite athletes. Dayce must have learned well from his father, seeing as Lizeth didn’t seem at all anxious after we had arrived. It was a good arrangement for them both. However, it was soon wearing on him. By the end of the day, his feet were dragging and he appeared to be in a constant struggle to keep his eyes open. He went to bed earlier than customary, though not without me hoping for him to have pleasant dreams that night.
None of us were aware of what was happening on the other side of Evon. We had severed any connection with the outside world after Dayce came home, so for some time we could pretend everything was the same as before. But once Dayce was asleep long enough for us to know he would not wake up any time soon, we knew we could not avoid it any longer. There was a subconscious uneasiness growing within me all throughout the day, and my qualms were actualized the moment I revived the television in my bedroom.
The dawn light was just beginning to shine on the blurry city horizon of Dorvale. It was recently confirmed that there was no direct strike on the city. The reputed asteroid impacted the nearby Gears Mountain Range roughly six miles away from the heart of Dorvale, though no one would have guessed it by the hectic scene. Helicopters soaring in the sky revealed the first murky images of the ruined cityscape, as the thick mists of dust and yellowish fumes were beginning to disperse in the strong winds. Most of the weaker buildings had collapsed in the shockwave, malformed into nothing more than piles of unrecognizable fragments. The ones that did manage to remain standing were almost a sadder sight to behold. The former embodiments of sanctuary were dusky and bleak, nothing but thin streaks of flashlights gleamed through their ruptured windows. There was a sense of stirring on the streets, where people were beginning to emerge out of the rubble that were once their grandest constructions. Hundreds of thousands were expected dead, which was the worse vision of all, even if it wasn’t shown in the images.
There was a spark of hope in all the despair and anguish. Countries from all parts of the world were responding to the disaster and sending in their support. Even acknowledged enemies of Valland were promising their assistance and expressing their condolences. Emergency services were already well underway, exposing themselves in every corner of the city in what was conceivably the biggest relief effort in all of history. It was inspiring to witness. It made Lizeth shed tears and nearly made me do the same. Well, maybe one eye may have accidentally leaked out a miniscule droplet of moisture.
We recognized we had to stop watching with the night creeping ever deeper. Whereas sleep was the furthest thing from our minds, Dayce was not, and we each foresaw we couldn’t face the day in general after a sleepless night, even if that appeared unavoidable. As we mutually came to this decision, the manner of the newscaster’s voice, who had accompanied us for most of the broadcast, abruptly changed from somber to ambiguity.
“I’m sorry to interrupt you,” he said to the crisis expert he was interviewing, “but I just received word that the first visual of the impact site on the Gears Mountain Range itself is about to be revealed to us. The clearing of the dust has finally allowed our helicopter to fly through.”
The scene then shown was difficult to make out at first. There was nothing but haze and distortion from the dust as it continued to fill the entire screen. It was like that for such a long stretch of time that I almost assumed the monitor had went to static. Even so, with neither my wife nor I taking more than two breaths between us, we could begin to see the vague outline of the mountain range.
“This is a live shot,” said the news anchor, his voice lingering in the background. A tremble of anticipation quivered his vocal folds, which I’m sure was felt by all watching. “I’m being told they will shortly exit the dust cloud and, if I’m correctly hearing this, we will then be able to see a live shot of… Is that right? Of the asteroid itself? Let’s give them a moment.”
In the course of that short period, my mind was completely
controlled by the screen in front of me. In essence, anyone watching became a puppet to the impending future. I was able to see the uneven terrain ascending and the soil becoming more ridged as the video climbed the mountain peaks. Sharply, before it could reach the sky, the image stirred and focused on one particularly battered mountain. As the picture adjusted, my eyes roamed closer to the bottom of the jagged landscape and I was able to see something that was completely different from anything I had ever seen before. First off, at the base of this mountain, there was an immense crater reaching the neighboring mountains nearby, although that was not what caused me to suddenly struggle for breath. Within the crater laid the apparent asteroid, but it wasn’t what I expected to see in my naïve mind of mine. This object appeared intensely dark and oblong shaped. The video was not yet completely distinct, with billows of dust still haunting the screen, so I kept blinking my eyes thinking the image would transform into something more ordinary, but at every release, all remained the same.
The object was far larger than I had first supposed, and that was granting some of it was buried deep within the mountain’s foundation, with the exhibited portion being a third as long as the mountain was high, making it at least a mile in length. Questions were beginning to run through my mind like grains of sand in a sandstorm. How could that much of the asteroid survive such an energetic impact? And why, then, wasn’t the impact even greater? An object that massive should have released enough energy to level a continent, not just a nearby city. Before I could begin to say these questions out loud, I noticed that the asteroid I had been studying all this time was molded in an unnervingly consistent, rectangular shape.
I heard a voice say, “That’s a strange looking rock.”
It sounded so much like an echo that I originally thought I was hearing it from my own head, but a quick recalculation told me it had arisen from Lizeth. I had forgotten all about her in my trepidation. I wanted to look at her, but a magnetic glue forced my eyes to glare at the screen in front of me, hoping the image was all in my feral imagination. I needed it to be my imagination.
“Roym?” Lizeth uttered, with some concern in her voice.
Still I did not turn to her. I felt her eyes piercing me like a cold dagger, and while I could feel the grim puncture on my face, I continued to look onward. The rest of my body was absent, and everything around me was void and vacant.
“What’s wrong?” she asked me, with more nervousness than before, for she must have felt my anxiety by that point.
The sound of her acutely troubled voice must have revived me at last, because it was then that I finally turned to her. Her cocked head, pursed lips, and watery eyes revealed her distress, and it escalated when she saw my own face. I knew she was scared, I don’t think she had ever seen me like this before. I stared back at her, but nothing came out of my gaping mouth. I knew any word from me would have comforted her, but I could not form one. Nonetheless, I soon didn’t have to, since the broadcaster spoke for me, which I was grateful for, knowing I would have remained senselessly silent all night.
“That appears to be the… the object that generated the blast,” said the unconfident newscaster, saying every word with great carefulness. “Perhaps we can try to get the astronomer, Dr. Lynn, back on? She might be able shed some light on the image we are seeing.”
It was official. It wasn’t my imagination. The anchor struggled with every syllable he pronounced because he and I were thinking the same damn thing. He knew, just as I did, that the asteroid we were witnessing was actually not an asteroid at all. It was alien.
Chapter Three
Reaction
Today rotated to tomorrow. The world’s fascination and focus was now directed to the object in the crater. The struggle in Dorvale became a distant concern in everyone’s minds. All spellbound eyes were watching the flood of new pictures and video coming in as the dust continued to vacate the region by order of the strengthening daylight and winds. Helicopters were swarming the mountain that was now integrated into my memory to every last perceptible pebble. Its visitor, which seemed to have turned darker each time I looked at it, never left the screen, allowing for more extensive analysis. The base of the structure was about a quarter wider than its ceiling and was raised from the crater’s floor at a slight angle, but the deceptively small ascent was enough to create a space of about six hundred feet between the body and the ground at its presumed stern. Its walls inclined upward from the base and formed a flattened plateau on top to make the roof. The mysterious vessel reached about one-fifth up the mountain, giving me a good idea of the structure’s true stature. Most mountains in the Gears Range were known to touch the clouds, and this one in particular reigned over them all, indicating that the object’s height would dwarf all but the tallest buildings in the world.
Despite fragments of the mountain masking a good portion of the foreign craft, unveiling themselves were a few shallow cracks flowing across the otherwise sleek, uniform surface. How it was left with only those few scars, or how it could have survived a collision that intense at all, no one could fathom. Most agreed that the energy expended from the impact—which experts had equated to several times the detonation of several nuclear weapons of the largest yield—should have vaporized any known material, or at least have destroyed it to the extent that there would be little to salvage. Even with the scarring, the interior remained a secret to everyone. There were no windows of any kind or cavities to speak of to disclose any hint of the inside. Another detail I could not disregard was the lack of a visible engine. There was nothing giving the impression of a propulsion mechanism, or any trace of how it could have drifted through space, if that’s allegedly what it was designed to do. The engine, or engines, I hypothesized, could have been concealed where it was buried, hidden inside of it, or may have not needed one at all.
None of these speculative observations helped to release my thoughts from the unrelenting questions: Why did it crash? Where was it going? Was anyone alive inside? What would they do if they were? I naturally became frustrated by it. I was beginning to think that none of it was fair. Today was supposed to be the world’s first day for healing.
Another inquest breached my mind, however, this one came via Lizeth, who asked, “What’s going to happen?”
I subconsciously thanked her for taking me out of my stupor. “I’m sure everyone is thinking the same thing,” I mechanically replied to her, for I was still only half myself. I felt her devoted hand over my arm and she gently squeezed it, but even so, I could hardly feel her slim fingers on my skin. My entire body felt numb. I felt a need for her to crush my arm somehow, so then maybe I could feel something.
This was not something that was supposed to happen to me. As a biologist I thought I was prepared for an occurrence like this. Out of the billions of planets in our galaxy alone and the innumerable galaxies beyond that, it had always made sense for me to envision that some type of life existed outside our solar neighborhood. There would therefore be some type of life that would, in due course, become articulate and practical enough to develop technology that might be more advanced than our own. But seeing the spacecraft from another existence resting within the crater somewhere on my world made my blood run cold until it felt as though my entire body was experiencing brain freeze. The last time I must have felt this unsure of myself was when I exited the womb. Everything was reintroduced to me; reset. All facts were now buried in a previous age.
This was not me. It never was. I remembered the time when, just weeks before receiving my driver’s license, my mother and I were involved in a vicious car accident. The clouds had uncharacteristically lost control of the rain that evening, making my mother lose hers. The car flipped over anywhere between one to a hundred times; feeling more like the latter. It sent each of us to the hospital and she had to remain there for over a month. Three weeks after her release, I received my driver’s license with avid expectations. It was as though the accident had never happened. My youthful spirit had wholly po
ssessed me, freeing the terrible event from my mind. I had seized the freedom given to me instead of fearing what it could bring.
Currently, it was the complete opposite. The feeling of dismay conquered all of me, and each of the possibilities and opportunities I thought my scientific mind would grasp were entirely deficient. I could now sympathize with an animal that had watched a fellow creature get shot down by a peculiar hunter with an otherworldly weapon. In any case, notwithstanding my building anxiety and tension, I knew I must do my utmost to not express it. Not in front of Lizeth or Dayce. I forced myself to keep sane for them. Their safety was all that mattered to me now. For the first time in my life, I understood that my higher thinking must be set aside and allow pure instinct to lead me through.
Somewhat less than an hour after the world first set eyes on the craft that violently skidded from the sky, the military imposed a two mile quarantine zone and no-fly sector around the mountain it now called home. Once the military attained control, so ended the flow of new images. All the same, I didn’t feel there was a need for anymore, for there was no escaping those already circulating throughout the globe in every possible media form. Every television channel, active website, all radio stations, and messages on my phone from friends and colleagues gave testimonies of its overriding presence. Sleep escaped us. The hours went on and we continued to watch unceasingly, even if we both knew nothing new was going to be waiting for us. No professional could enlighten us and no specialist alive or dead could clarify what we were all seeing and experiencing.
What sign it symbolized or what omen was approaching depended on who was speaking. Some saw it as a religious test or even as a gift from any number of higher forces, divine or otherwise. Others foretold that the end of the world was imminent, but the general consensus did not differ from my own; watch and wait. Despite the fact a shadow was now cast above all nations, panic did not become the mutual sentiment. The occasional law did have to be reinforced across the lands, but the small upheavals were mere opportunists taking advantage of the frightened.
A Depraved Blessing Page 2
