I did not think it was possible for me to forget the reality of having just escaped an inscrutable alien vessel, but being with Neves made me come close to it, to my own surprise. His charisma thoroughly subdued anyone he ever spoke with without any form of struggle from the listener, and I doubt he was even trying to win over friends, it simply happened. He found moderate success playing professional shockball in his youth, which allowed him to retire earlier than most. I didn’t only have Neves to acknowledge for my being charmed, but Liz’s mother as well. Delphnia, despite being almost a pair of decades younger than her husband and the embodiment of a trophy wife, was a magnetic hostess. She had a knack for sensing what people needed, whether that be an ear to listen or a mouth to fill up a silent void. Outside of her hosting duties, she helped manage a prosperous restaurant in town procured by some of Neves’ earnings. It was there where her son discovered his passion for preparing food. Liz’s brother could have played any professional sport he wanted for as long as his body held up, but not long after college, he pursued his true desire of becoming a professional chef—to the chagrin of his father and making his mother more than pleased. He gave all his time and energy into cooking and it was exhibited in every meal he created, that day included. It made me feel as though I had been stranded on a deserted island for years and had forgotten what the real taste of food was like.
That night, the three testosterone guided beings relaxed at Neves’ pool house, as we were apt to do anytime I came to visit, there being no reason why it would have been any different that evening. It was located near the canal, which I was regularly reminded of while in the sitting room, as it had a perfect view of it. The stars, Tess, and Newt, without any hindrance from the clouds or city lights, revealed themselves plainly through the backdrop of the sky. Their waxing light gravitated toward the river where they were then reflected back into interlacing beams dancing above the slow flowing water. Neves and Orins were talking amongst themselves for some time, not quite sure if they perceived my far mind, but I was soon required to join them when Orins presented a sarcastic question to me.
“So, Roym, you have the biggest brain of all of us, should we surrender now and become their slaves, or should we start sacrificing virgins to them?”
“Don’t talk like that,” said Neves before I had a chance to answer. “A lot of our friends are stuck in Iva right now and they’re scared shitless. Fuck, I’m scared shitless and we’re not even that close to one of those things.”
“Didn’t you say you had a friend near the big one?” Orins asked, spinning on his revolving chair to face me. “What does he say?”
“He’s with some of the smartest people in the world right now and the best they can do is not much more than we’re able to do. Wait and see.”
“But you must have some guesses,” said Neves.
“I’m like everyone else, I only have a lot of questions. What’s been bothering me the most is wondering why it even crashed in the first place. An advanced, self-healing ship doesn’t simply crash without a reason, and I can only think of one.”
“And what’s that?” asked Orins.
“That something as advanced as itself damaged it in an attack. If that’s the case, then it raises even more unanswerable questions. Why was it attacked? And by whom? Those answers will go a long way in determining what we should do.”
“I hoped they wouldn’t care about us,” began Orins, “but that wish is out the door with the other ships visiting all our cities. A friend of mine thought they wouldn’t bother us since he figured they would view us in the same way we would see bugs.”
“Maybe it’s a science ship and they’re studying us?” speculated Neves. “Maybe the crash was to study our reactions and now they’re upping the ante by releasing those other ships. This is what animals in a lab must feel like when they’re being studied.” He pondered over his concluding words, delighted with the concept he had formulated.
“That’s actually not a terrible guess,” I said sincerely. “But the critical question still remains. How far are they willing to go?”
A drowsy tranquility was streaming into my newly acclimated home, but the feeling was not shared throughout most slices of the world. Large populations were growing more and more chaotic at every passing minute. Traveling beyond a city limit was becoming a mythical endeavor for millions. Highways were being challenged to their limit and there were suddenly too few airplanes and not enough airports that existed. It did not matter if the actual manifestations of the otherworldly entities were felt or not in a particular region, countless people began leaving their metropolis for less populous areas. A majority of business transactions stopped all at once, crashing entire financial markets. International trade was disrupted to a degree never before seen as thousands of ship captains and pilots were diverted to ports and airstrips that were free of our visitors. To top it all off, the only jobs being attended to involved government workforces trying to find some kind of order. A world war would have been the only event that could generate the panic now felt mutually across the planet, and all this transpired without a single round being fired.
Chapter Nine
Infection
It was on the second evening after our arrival when I was disturbed by the ringing of my phone. Seeing it was from Lormek changed my demeanor into expectation for a fresh report, as I had not experienced more than a few texts from him since our last conversation. I moved into the study and closed the door, not wanting to be bothered. Disappointment and a foreboding replaced my willingness for an update when I found that it was a woman’s voice on the other end.
“Is this Mr. Rosyth?” she asked me in an almost inaudible, strained voice. It sounded as though she had been crying a great deal and was still struggling to make sure more tears didn’t escape her.
“Yes. Is this Carloma?” I asked, knowing full well it was, for Lormek would not have allowed anyone but his assistant to use his phone.
“Yes, the professor wanted me to call you,” she said, somewhat composing herself.
“Is he all right? What happened?”
“H-he’s sick, I think. He was in a lot of pain when I left him. He couldn’t really talk. He wanted me to tell you to get as far away from the cities as possible. There’s something that’s making people really sick.”
“People are getting sick?”
“In the last couple hours we’ve seen more and more people experiencing a great deal of pain of some sort, but before we could study more, the professor got sick himself and then asked me to leave.” Her voice was overflowing with remorse, the emotion choking her throat for a second, but fought to swiftly regain her self-control. “We saw them,” she continued. “We obtained an air sample shortly after the ship opened and in it we saw thousands of microscopic bug-like things. The professor said they looked artificial. ‘Microbots’ is what he called them. He thinks that the other ships are going to spread these microbots to the other cities and make more people fall ill.”
So Lormek’s assumption was correct. The ship did contain microbots, but I never considered them carrying the capability to detach from the ship and possessing the ability to cause an illness. I then remembered the gray mist I witnessed dissolving into the air. “Do others know about this?” I asked Carloma, who did not seem to mind the short pause I undertook. I was sure she needed it, too.
“Yes, I sent the results to others.”
“Thank you, Carloma. Please, get somewhere safe.”
“Mr. Rosyth,” she began to say, but a silence arose, in which I could only hear her irregular gasps for a long moment. “Mr. Rosyth, I-I think he’s dying.”
The grief-filled words were not unexpected, given her state, but an aching throbbing coursed my body until I was left dazed. I did not want to openly express my wounded emotions and was resolute to remain as self-possessed as possible. I replied, “His message won’t be in vain, and trust me when I say that old bastard has lived more than both of us combined. Goodbye, Carlom
a, and stay safe.”
Not a thing was stirring in the study room. Even the trees I had seen swaying in the wind outside the window were currently motionless with me. “He’s dying.” Carloma’s words kept resonating in an incessant cycle. I had a sudden wish that I had accepted his offer to join him, in what turned out to be our last conversation. It would not matter if he couldn’t speak and it wouldn’t matter if I couldn’t come up with something to say. I knew it would be enough for us to give each other that wholehearted look close friends could give to one another to let them know everything they needed to know. I was left praying to my ancestors that he knew, nonetheless.
After a few deep inhales, accompanied with maybe one more, I became committed enough to reveal all that Lormek gave his remaining strength to bestow to me, including his own approaching passing. Dayce was the only one spared from this recent intelligence. I would tell him in my own way when we were alone. They all knew something was amiss as soon as they saw me, since I could not completely hide how drained and weary I was. Only Liz could grasp what the conceivable loss of my friend truly meant to me. Even my mother had little idea that Lormek had essentially become the premier father figure in my life. I was not able to fathom why I chose to emulate a brutish, blunt, and crass womanizer, but it happened. Everyone else assumed most of my visible stress came from the information I imparted about the artificial infection.
It must have been less than half an hour afterwards when the world at large began to share in our distressing enlightenment. Everything Lormek warned me about was manifesting itself before our eyes. Story after story emerged on television about this newly detected disease sending an increasing amount of the inflicted into hospitals. It first started near the initial strike in Dorvale, but it was quickly spreading to cities all across the globe, each one sharing the alien Tower in their backdrop. It did not take a great deal of time or intellect for the public and governments to comprehend what the cause of this readily dispersed infection was. Their instantaneous solution to this impossibly unforeseen occurrence was to quarantine all twenty-three cities as quickly as possible, despite the fact that millions wanted nothing more than to leave. In Iva, people exploited the old tunnel systems and underground bombing shelters to try and escape from the synthetic contagion, but most cities had no such shelters, and people were becoming frantic. While the day fell in Hornstone, so did their anger grow. Riots in all the affected cities were swelling, being fueled by the infection’s increasingly horrific effects.
Chapter Ten
Update
“I’m Tradie Ata reporting live from the Iva Central Hospital and I’m here talking with Dr. Watlack. Thank you for joining us, Dr. Watlack. What can you tell us about the infection so far?”
“I’m afraid we know very little as of now. Our main mission is simply trying to control the situation. We don’t know if it’s contagious, but we are proceeding like it is.”
“Can you describe the symptoms the patients are experiencing?”
“Increasingly intense pain all over the body, which no painkiller or anesthetic we have is able to ease by any noticeable degree. In fact, the pain in some patients has intensified so greatly that some have started to become… difficult. We’ve had to restrain several to minimize injury to themselves and others. Many patients also experience swelling of their blood vessels, which seems to be the most immediate side effect to present itself. I advise anyone experiencing this symptom to contact emergency services and isolate yourself until emergency personnel arrive.”
“Thank you again for your time, Dr. Watlack”
Fifty-five minutes later: “We are joined once more by Tradie Ata who now has now a new update for us. Tradie?”
“That’s right. I have just spoken with the Iva Central Hospital’s mortician and he said there have been several recent deaths from those infected, all due to the same cause. Excessive internal bleeding has essentially drowned people in their own blood. He described the bodies as being extremely bloated with more blood than the average body is capable of producing.”
“So the infection is producing more blood?”
“That at least seems to be a syndrome for many of the inflicted. I have actually seen plenty of infected patients with highly pronounced veins all over their bodies, but only a minority have died up to now. Unfortunately, updates will be coming in slower. I have been forced out of the hospital due to overcrowding.”
“You’re doing a wonderful job, Tradie. Please stay safe.”
“Thank you. I’ll try.”
Ten minutes later: “This is a recent video from a Dorvale Hospital. Please be advised, the images we are about to present are disturbing.”
The screen cut to a tall reporter looking straight at the camera. He stood next to the hospital’s entrance, speaking a tongue not many outside Valland were fluent with. He was not alone. He was surrounded by fellow reporters, law enforcement, and ordinary citizens, undoubtedly with loved ones inside. Next, the noise of a window shattering broke the close night air. It was instantly followed by faint shouts coming from inside the building. Closely succeeding the interruption was a loud thud striking the concrete ground, causing some people who had seen what happened to scream. The camera unsteadily panned to the right of the reporter, who, by this time, had turned to the direction no eye was turned away from. Shards of glass were seen shimmering upon the ground, followed momentarily by a prone body completely surrounded and covered by the clear material, signifying its dreadful deed.
A hysterical shriek ascended from the presumed corpse, muting those around him. He then started to move. He clumsily rose to his feet, never using his hands to aid him. He presently stood fully erect, with his body in ongoing convulsions. The skin was an unnatural shade of merging dark blue and red contusions, colors no living being should bear. His wailing persisted, louder than before, with many around him joining his chorus with their own cries as they backed away or fled entirely. He took a few lumbering steps toward the camera, nearly falling several times. His spasms grew greater, but he fought to remain on his feet. Blood trickled down his face from the corners of his eyes and mouth. His nose was unceasingly gushing out more of the gelatinous fluid, and the hospital gown he was wearing was caked with the vital liquid, making it difficult to believe it was white at one point. The camera operator couldn’t endure the provoking being for long. He relented and moved back a number of steps, but as he did so, the infected man fell on his knees and his torso was abruptly sheathed in flames. The flashing inferno only allowed an ethereal view of his burning silhouette. Gurgling squeals continued from within the blaze as his face met the ground. His unnatural cries slowly died away with him as the fire began reducing his corpse to ash.
The anchor’s accustomed face reappeared on the screen. “What we have just witnessed seems to confirm various reports of a few infected individuals showing warping capabilities, in spite of never exhibiting the aptitude of a spirit warrior before they were infected. Those able to warp fire have easily caused the most damage. Reports have also come in about the infected becoming increasingly more hostile and impulsively attacking anyone near them. With hospitals already inundated with patients, there have been accounts of these infected roaming the streets. Officials are now advising everyone in the infected cities to stay indoors. If someone you know is infected, try and isolate them until EMS personnel can reach them.”
One and a half hours later: “Moments ago we just received confirmation that due to the undeniably artificial means that the infection is spreading by, some military forces have agreed to a simultaneous strike against what they now have labeled as ‘hostile invaders.’ Our country is indeed one of those who have agreed to cooperate and assist in the strike, which I’m told should start anytime now.”
They switched to a live feed showing the Iva spawn Tower no more than a mile away, illuminated by city lights and the partial light of both moons. Less than a minute later, explosions started to cover the Tower on all sides, coating the higher
sections with black smoke and pulsating bursts of firestorms. At the end of that instant, all our lights went out.
Chapter Eleven
Unlit
Instinctively grabbing my right arm, Liz launched a short, high-pitched scream right next to my ear, complemented instantaneously by her mother. I searched for Dayce, but quickly recalled that he was sleeping on the second floor. I was glad he slept as heavily as he did and hoped the trend would go unbroken.
After a brief interlude where only sharp breathing resonated in the living room, Liz’s father wondered aloud, “What the fuck just happened?” Without wasting any time waiting for a response, he rose from his seat and looked out the window of the other room behind us. From there, his stifled voice announced, “It looks like our neighbor’s lights are out too.”
“Can’t imagine it’s a coincidence the power went out as soon as we started attacking,” said Orins. He too departed from the room, though in a separate direction from his father.
“Baby, my phone’s out. Can I borrow yours?” Delphnia asked her husband when he returned. “I want to check to see if our friends are okay.”
“Sure,” said Neves, pulling out his phone from his pocket. But as he checked its status, he clearly did not like what he saw. Abrasively fiddling with the communication device, he said, “Shit, my phone isn’t working either. Now how does a blackout make a cellphone stop working?”
I procured my own phone and saw that it also would not awaken with my command.
“EMP?” I whispered to myself.
Liz, who had never released my arm from her grasp, unquietly asked me, “What did you say?”
Everyone in the room stared at me, so I was left with no other option than to speak my mind. I was sure my awkwardness did not fail to emerge alongside the self-doubting manner I could not help but convey. “I’m no expert, but this could very well be the effects of EMP. An electromagnetic pulse would fry any unprotected electronic device in its range. Orins is probably right, our attack must have activated the defense mechanism in that Tower.”
A Depraved Blessing Page 6
