Time Warp

by Steven Brockwell

  The decisive moment had finally come, to find out what exactly this spearhead from outer space really does, and why Sonard wants it or why he needs it so badly.

  Jason held the spear in his hand for the first time, and admired its beauty. Nick and Carl forced the steel pipe into the ground as deep as they could, keeping the pipe as vertical as possible to allow a stable secure base for when the spear starts to spin around again.

  “You all ready?” cried nick

  “Well it’s now or never, let her ripe”, replied Carl.

  Nick pulled down on the power lever, allowing the electricity to travel across the wires into the peculiar electronic device. The three pointed spear head, slowly started to spin around again, only this time the steal pole that Carl had driven into the ground, and had fixed the bizarre, looking device too, proved to be a more suited and stable method in which to operate it from. The spearhead gained speed, a whistling sound could be heard as it span around faster and faster. Everyone stood there amassed at the object, waiting for something to happen and it did.

  An electrical charge, started to jump from the outside prongs onto the main centered one; the ark intensified creating an electromagnetic, sphere that engulfed the whole object. Carl and nick stepped backwards afraid from the whole thing collapsing or even exploding for that matter, as they all watch the sphere rapidly enlarge. Jack called over to Jason, “cut the power! Turn that dam generate off.”

  Jason ran to the shed and pressed the stop button, the generator quickly died down, only it was too late. For some unknown reason the spear continued spinning faster and faster, the magnetic sphere continued to enlarge until it ruptured, exploding, sending a shock wave across the island. Everyone dived onto the floor as the shock wave struck.

  Jan looked up towards the spear, that had now stopped spinning; instead a powerful beam of light similar to a laser was being emitted from the spears center prong.

  The light shot high into the night sky, piercing the heavens above and beyond our atmosphere.

  Carl came up to Jan to see if she was all right. “Look Carl it’s just like I told you in the library,” she said.

  “What are you on about,” replied Carl, looking at the powerful orange beam of light.

  “That phrase I found in the book of prophesies, I was reading in the library it said, (a strong light shall pierce the heavens, and the savoir of mankind shall descend upon the earth).”

  Carl looked at Jan thinking maybe she was right, no one had a clue as to what this device could be, but one thing was for sure, if this was some kind of signal. Carl figured Sonard had not yet completed his plans, and they might have sent the signal way too early. Carl also feared they were not the only ones who saw and felt the magnetic pulse, which temporarily disrupted all communications and radio signals half way around Europe. The beam of light only lasted for less than half a minute, and could be seen thousands of miles away, the event was witness by hundreds of people who stared at its magnificence. However, for the military this could only mean one thing. WAR.

  Governing bodies around the globe gave the go ahead, and with in an instant all military bases and strategic points were immediately put a high alert. No one had ever seen or experienced such a shock wave, which could have destroyed every electronic, device all around Europe. Except for some countries, military forces that used non-magnetic, microchips just in case something like this ever did happened, and it just did. The USA and the soviets were the first to respond, and immediately dispatched fighter aircraft, into the air to protect their bases, while ground forces were assembled. Missile silos across the globe opened their concealed hatches waiting for their orders, just in case this was some sort of a nuclear strike. China, Japan, and every other country also responded thinking it was some sort of nuclear device, even though no one knew what the hell was really happening. Except Sonard, who could see the ray of light as it slowly started to fade away?

  Sonard knew he must react at once, the world had never seen anything like this before, and the actions being taken by some countries, could automatically become hostile ones, in fear that they might be under a direct attack from any adjacent country. Which in turn could be the beginning of a third would war, a nuclear war that Sonard had tried so hard to stop man from entering, in fear it would almost certainly destroy planet earth leaving him and his superior race homeless.

  Sonard picked up his phone; communications had been restored since the blast was not meant to destroy communication, equipment, but just too temporally disrupt it.

  Sonard contacted his home base and instructed them to inform the secret, society of half-breeds that held top official positions, that this was some kind of accident, and that he would give them a good explanation later on. Sonard hoped they would stand down from any military strike, that that was now looking immanent. However, for some it was too late, the USA had an aircraft carrier in international waters, deep within the Mediterranean; it was close, just too close.

  The soviets, knowing the carrier’s nuclear capability, saw this as a direct threat and had already dispatched a squadron of six Migs to search and destroy any American military vessels with in the immediate area.

  The admiral in charge of the carrier, was admiral Cory, he knew his job had already dispatch three f 16‘s to Recon the area, to warn off any aircraft that came within harms distance. The admiral was in the control tower hoping that this would eventually come to nothing. Although, Admiral Cory was a war veteran, had always fired upon his enemy from a distance, and had never come under direct attack from any country in the world. Simply because no one in their right mind, would dare to launch a direct air strike against an American carrier of her size.

  The lights flickered around the silent control room, radio control kept in touch with Captain Johnson, who was in charge of the Recon mission. However, the silence within the control tower did not last for long, and was broken when one the radar operators saw three dots appear on his screen. .” We have three bogies inbound, north, north east.” the admiral feared the worst. ” How many aircraft do we have up there?” he asked.

  “We have three sir! And two more on stand by sir,” said one of his officers.

  “Dispatch another aircraft and have two more on standby,” instructed the admiral.

  “But sir there is only three of them, do we really need six planes in the air sir! “ Asked his officer

  Cory was an experience man, and knew for a fact that there must be more than just three Migs in the area, and quickly answered to his officers lame response, “ just do it! I want six planes in the air and two on deck standing by, also sound battle station, and inform everyone that this is not a drill.”

  “Yes sir”, replied the officer and did what the admiral commanded. It seemed that Cory was right, it was not long after the radar operator again shouted, “three more bogies east south east, in bound, approaching fast.”

  Cory knew that this was it! Sweat started to drip from his brow, as He wondered how his crew would cope when the shit started flying by; he scratched his head and instructed all craft ready for takeoff to depart immediately. It seemed the Russians had divided their squadron to cause havoc, leaving half of its Migs to intercept the oncoming f 15’s, leaving three more Migs to directly strike the carrier itself. Their plan was a devious one; all the Migs had flown low to avoid radar detection, flying past the Ukraine then across the Black Sea. Later on, they split up into two groups; one group headed south exposing itself to radar, to gain the Americans attention while the other group took a detour, remaining low, only exposing them self’s at the very last minutes.

  Caption Johnson, had imminently picked up three of the Migs on his radar screen, and radioed control for orders, “we have three bogies approaching 12 o’clock, permission to engage!”

  “Permission granted, and good luck, “replied the radio controller.

  “You heard the man boys break formation, and keep your wing man.”

  “Roger that.”

 
The four-f 15’s broke up into pairs, and were ready to take on the incoming Migs. They flew high where it was now twilight, in order to get a better view of their opponents, the Migs flew by at tremendous speed, and Johnson picked his target and perused his enemy.

  The Migs, with a top speed exceeding MACH 3 could easily have out run the f 15’s, only the Russians wanted to engage, and turned around to take on Johnson and his squadron. Their planes dived, turned and twisted through the air, the F 15s 20mm multi barreled cannons, exploded to life, ripping holes in one of the Migs fuselage, the Russian pilot try desperately to break away. However, Johnson was an experienced pilot, and had flown numerous of sorties during the Iraq conflict. Finally Johnson had missile lock on one of the Migs,” I have missile lock taking the shot”, he relayed on radio.

  He selected his weapon and was ready to fire one of the F15s sophisticated, AMRAAM’s, air – air missiles, when the admiral’s voice came over the radio, “Disengage, Disengage, and return to base”.

  “What!” replied Johnson? “You heard me that’s an order!’ replied Cory

  However, for Johnson the order had came too late, the air- air missile dropped from underneath his plane, and almost immediately ignited, the missile soared through the air seeking its target leaving a stream of white fuel residue behind it. The Russian Mig was doomed as the missile exploded, sending fragments through the air, the pilot was wise and had ejected just in time knowing he did not stand a chance with his crippled plane. Later on an American search and rescue helicopter which, had already been dispatched, would pick him up to bring him back on board.

  However, as for Admiral Cory he was glad he had finally received orders from fleet command to stand down, he was well, and truly relieved he knew half of his planes would not return, and was glad to call off the whole thing.

  “You heard the man disengage and return to base,” Johnson instructed the rest of his squadron.

  The Americana f15’s turned around heading for base, The Russian pilots were surprised, seeing the F15’s heading home, and thought the Americans had chickened out, and turned around to peruse them. Although, even they received the same message, the Russian squad leader was outraged, for if he succeeded in striking an American carrier, his name would go down in history, for being the first pilot to strike an American carrier of her size since the Second World War.

  The Russian planes continue to pursue the f 15’s at a distance, hoping one of them would break orders and turn to fight; only it was not happening. The Russian flight commander fired a missile across the Americans path; its target had not been locked; and the missile had neither been armed. Johnson watches as it streamed across the air. “Sir they have just fired upon us, should we engage?” asked his co pilot. “No! That is what they want us to do, “replied Johnson, and safely guided his squadron back to the safety of their aircraft carrier.

  The following morning, Sonard held a press conference; the newspapers were desperate to know what had caused the Electro, magnetic pulse, which nearly started a war between the soviets and the Americans, even though both countries denied that anything took place. His statement was short; allocating that the pulse was due to a small explosion in a secret, scientific unit, which was based on the island, studying the behavior and effects of Electro, magnetic, pulses when a magnetic core erupted sending a magnetic pulse half way across Europe.

  “Was any one hurt in the explosion?” asked one of the journalists.

  “No! Certainly not,” replied Sonard

  “So what exactly where you experimenting on?” asked another journalist. “I am afraid that is confidential,” said Sonard

  Still, the crowd pushed Sonard even though they knew the true reason behind all of this was most probably being covered up, and that any top officials would not give them any straight answers any way.

  Sonard answered question often question, turning and escaping from the real facts when one person asked him a question, which almost left him speechless.

  “Sir I do believe that this magnetic pulse was caused by some extraterrestrial device, could you verify that please?”

  Sonard looked at the man, he was scruffy looking, his face was unshaven, and his curly white hair could have done with a haircut some months ago. Sonard had never seen the man before although, he had a strange feeling he knew what he was on about, and was afraid that this man might cause him to lose his cool, smooth line of corresponding with the rest of the journalist.

  The world had never experienced a pulse of this size; not man made any way. Sonard quickly stood up and just shrugged the man off, not wanting to answer his question, afraid of what consequence he might have to face if anyone else pursed this line of questioning. Sonard had already given them quiet a good reason for all that had happened, and no real damaged had been done by the spears, magnetic sphere, That was purposely built and designed to erupted, sending a magnetic pulse to disrupt any other radio waves, or transmissions within a certain radius. As not to distort, or interfere with the signal that the spear itself had sent within the orange light, that traveled through the skies. The signal had to be as pure as ever, so it could travel a vast distance through outer space, and reach its destination as clear as possible. With the help of receptors, which Sonard and his crew had placed on their arrival to our planet, the message would travel towards a deep space probe that hovered silently, waiting for the very signal it needed to activate its complex, computerized systems, sending it into overdrive. Therefore, the probe its self could activate a sophisticated, space-warping device, which will allow it to reach its destination carrying the information it had been programmed with,

  A place far from our own galaxy, a galaxy where Sonard’s people lived,

  Their they waited desperately for an answer, or reply from any of the deep space expedition crews that left on a mission years ago, to seek new distinctive planets for them to colonize. They vainly scanned their own airways, for any type of signal that was now long overdue. However, now what they had been waiting for had finally started its journey across the vast distances through space.

  The signal would go undetected by mans conventional means, of radar and antennas, saturlight that scanned our own airs ways, forever hoping to receive and acknowledge any extraterrestrial transmissions. Our means and technologies were still far more primitive then Sonard’s race, which had mastered space warp and teleportation; their means of communication were far more complex than our own. (That could explain why our astronomers so far, have not managed to identify one simple clear signal, even though thousands have most probable passed through our skies.)

  CHAPTER TEN

  the signal

  After Jeramayas promotion ceremony, he spent the next few days at home with his wife Laya. Their son Luka, had the time of his life telling all his class mates what he had seen, and drew pictures of the tiny insects. All the kids in his classroom were fascinated by the funny shaped creatures, something not even they had ever seen before. It seemed luka had become the school hero just like his father. However, Jeramaya knew that in the next few days all would be forgotten and it would soon be time to go back to work, scanning the airways or moving pre-constructed parts into outer space, Hoping that maybe one day they could all leave their dying planet, and start a new life somewhere else.

  The following morning Jeramaya walked into the control room, which was situated, on the planet’s surface. It was his turn to scan the airways and to intercept any signals or relay messages from one control station to another. His colleges slightly bow their heads to acknowledge his promotion, which was quite obvious due to the color of his new uniform. Depending on the grade that one would achieve, the color of their clothes changed. The lower class jobs, wore darker uniforms compared to the higher-grade jobs, Jeramaya wore a pale, Grey uniform that meant he only needed two more grades before he become one of the leading, governing members, which for his age was a great achievement.

  “Good morning sir, “said Clare.

  “Good mornin
g Clare, it’s nice to hear your voice again.”

  “Thank you sir, I see you have been promoted?” said Clare.

  “Yes that is correct, so you’d better be on your toes from now on”, answered Jeramaya.

  “Sir As one can see, I do not have any toes!” Jeramaya laughs, “It’s ok Clare it is only an expression”.

  Clare was their main computer that controlled their entire city, her tasks involved numerous jobs, and Jeramaya was glad to have her as his college and his companion.

  Jeramaya took up his position in front of the everlasting control panels to begin his shift, “ok Clare tell me what developments have there been since my last shift?” asked Jeramaya.

  “We have a malfunction in receivers four and five,” replied Clare.

  “Evaluate systems and rectify problem”.

  “The problem is coursed by the ice built up around rotary scanners, heaters not operational,” said Clare.

  This was a normal occurrence, due to the extreme weather conditions, sometimes the rotary systems that allowed the scanners to swivel around, would sometimes freeze over. Heating elements were installed along the rails, which once in awhile their terminals tended to become brittle, and would crack due to the sub zero temperature. However, this seemed impossible since they were still in the middle of summer.

  “Clare it is still summer that’s not possible,” asked Jeramaya.

  “Negative sir, Due to my calculations winter is due early this year, sir.”

  Jeramaya stood up and walked over towards one of his colleagues who controlled another section within the control room, it appeared the ambient temperature had drastically dropped over night. Their instruments were showing a freezing minus, seventy-five deg. This means the only way to repair the antenna, was for someone to go outside and manually repair the cracked terminals.

  Jeramaya was just about to go into the changing rooms when one of his colleges spoke up,” sir I can do the repairs!” Jeramaya laughs, “It’s ok just because I have been promoted, it doesn’t mean I am no longer capable of doing my job”.