by Travis Borne
“Amy! I’m so glad you're here,” he said, squeezing her tight. Then he pulled away and beheld her for a moment. “I wasn’t sure if you’d—” He choked up; she looked as beautiful and vibrant as ever.
“Slow logger-inner you are.” She laughed. “I took a little flight, waitin’ for ya.” His eyes popped with relief and contentedness and he shook his head slowly with a gleaming smile that wouldn’t quit.
Amazing, he thought, and didn’t bother to ask or think how. He accepted she was special, and, that he probably ain’t seen nothing yet; what better use of a double-negative! He was paradoxically blown away. And he didn’t want to give her the bad news, but if anyone was resilient and strong, she was. “Amy, we are in a bit of a bind and I think this might be the last time we’re together.”
“Jim, why?” Amy asked, alarmed. “What is it?”
“Amy, do you remember what happened?”
“The fight. It was bad. I do remember. And I heard you when you talked to me in the hospital room—but then I went deeper, and lost you. I had some very special dreams after that.”
“I hope—we can talk after this, and about your dreams. But, the control room was compromised. And now we are under attack and in the red. Drones are everywhere. Many died.”
“Oh, no.”
“Devon says that even with all of the lenders, and everyone is logged in right now, we won’t be able get the feed back up in time. But, we have to try, right?” Jim handed her one of the pistols and she looked down at it in her hand. The beach was beginning to fill with people—fill being an understatement; flood of biblical proportions would be more suited. Amy looked at the arriving crowds then back down at the gun. Like spring break—and the numbers multiplied exponentially. It didn’t take long; the beach was jam-packed.
“Yes, Jim, we do. And try we will.” She tossed the gun into the ocean and slowly walked along the beach, leaving him behind. A moment later she stopped and turned to him, holding out her hand. “Well, ya coming, slowpoke?”
He tossed his pistol and ran over, taking her hand. He didn’t know what to expect so just walked with her; today he would be the student. They walked barefoot through the warm gritty white until reaching a space in the middle of a crowd.
Jim stood with her, anxious yet unconcerned, trustfully waiting. She relaxed herself as if meditating. A soft green glow began to surround them and their hair floated upward as if a pleasant breeze was coming at them from the sand—which also began to rustle. Amy stood with eyes closed and raised both hands, and that of Jim’s.
He mimicked and lifted his other arm. A few surfers noticed and mocked. Then he felt the hairs on his arms standing straight up under mountains of goosebumps.
The glow became brighter, the sand swirled making a gentle white tornado, and people started to take notice in clumps. The neglected volleyball bounced away, rolling toward the sea’s foaming edge, and both volleyball teams came over to see. From afar, Enzo’s replacement came running, along with his golden retriever. And blue and red flashing lights, the police were inbound on their ATVs.
The now bright green glow became a serene flow, strobe-like, and the light was a mellow outpouring of pulsing waves. The green changed to yellow, then warm colors, then all colors in prismatic rotation one after another. It delivered feelings of excitement and wonder to the crowd. People from hotels and streets near and afar took notice.
The lifeguards arrived before the police but neither knew what to do. They ushered people back while rubbernecking in wonder. Many discussed the possibilities: what could be happening? Cameras were held high throughout the crowd, flashing like mirrors reflecting the sun whilst recording the spectacle. As the crowd thickened like the sand at the bottom of an hourglass people climbed the lifeguard tower, swarming it to near collapse just to get a clear line of sight. The beach filled past capacity as more and more, and more people arrived, not only see the bright cascading rainbows of light, but to feel it. In vain, police tried to disperse the crowd. One made it to the center and assisted the lifeguards in keeping people back.
But no one could invade the circle now. The spinning sand had become an impenetrable tube surrounding Amy and Jim, and they hovered inside. They rose slowly atop the swirl and it began to dissipate as they ascended: five feet, ten…
Jim was looking around and about, and he wasn’t scared; he started smiling big, and then laughing. Ah ha, ah ha, ah ha ha ha! The feeling tingled every inch of his skin. The blond hair around his bald spot blasted upward; a warm blow-dryer on maximum speed. It felt like his recently neglected follicles were being electrified back into growth.
The ground was now fifteen feet below, then twenty as they floated above the reaching crowd. The sand stopped making its barrier and the masses filled the area they’d risen from. Amy put her head back and looked up to the sky. Sights and sounds didn’t matter anymore, it felt too wonderful, and Jim looked up as well, closing his eyes.
Below, hundreds of people were squeezing close, and flooding every inch of the distance afar. Several ATVs rode the water’s edge for all dry land had been taken; all just to get a glimpse of the beauty, a new shining star fifty feet in the air, gushing rainbows of color in wavelike pulses. Swimmers came to shore. Around them a crowd formed in the sea. Binoculars gazed, packed hotels full of onlookers watched and conversed in amazement. But the talking quickly hushed as thousands dropped cameras, their pointing fingers, and their jaws.
The light was beautiful, the feeling equally so. Inside he could see nothing but its abstract beauty. A rush of euphoria came over Jim, forcing his eyes wide open. Ecstasy, bliss, and wonder filled his mind and body as he held his head back and arms out; he let an easy breath fall from his relaxed mouth.
As the light grew brighter the people hushed—until dead silence. Then, the star pulsed. It sent out an astronomical explosion of light! The crowd received the same dose of bliss Jim and Amy had been experiencing and every smile melted into satisfaction. The second pulse was twice as strong, sending many of the women onlookers to their knees in orgasm, but all fought to continue seeing it, feeling it: reaching, praising, even worshiping. The third pulse shook the ground. With eyes closed and head back, Jim’s muscles clenched tight and stayed that way; complete blissfulness pleasantly invaded his every sense and melted peacefully into his thoughts.
Amy opened one eye and peeked over at him. He had the smile of an eight-year-old under a firework finale; she smiled, which led to a tiny giggle, then returned to her focus. Clenching her fist tightly, and Jim’s hand, she squinted her eyes. This is it! A climactic pulse exploded—this time from within them both. It delivered a shockwave that warped the world. In rapid succession another lighter pulse warped it again, and then again, and again. Jolting spasmodically, Amy, Jim, and everyone within hundreds of miles felt nirvana. Muscles constricted, contorting people into various odd positions. Spasms jolted young and old—even the golden retriever.
Then, stillness. Every person had relaxed. All eyes were closed save for those who had spasmed to death. The departed left stretched and frozen full-toothed smiles, tightly squinted skin, and round popping eyes. But most made it, had been knocked out cold—knocked out warm to be precise. Occasionally, hiccupping bodies fluttered like the wave at a baseball game, resounding with a purr.
The light faded, and the two hovered back down to the sand. With a smile tattooed on his face, Jim turned to Amy but didn’t speak. He couldn’t. Amy felt the same. The good feeling echoed through their bodies and minds as they descended. Jim jerked a little with each succeeding diminuendo of tingles. Their toes dug into the sand amid and between thousands of people, and they fell holding each other.
Amy looked up at Jim as he held her in his arms. She wasn’t tired, just extremely relaxed. He was panting a little but had to see it and stood up. She watched him as he rotated, gazing at the comatose sea of bodies.
“I—” Jim stuttered, looking down at her. “I think, I need a cigarette.”
Amy just g
iggled.
81. Incoming
“Wow,” Devon said. He was flabbergasted. The lenders were performing exemplary like no other time, and everyone came together to make it happen, but it was Amy and Jim getting the attention and their slice took more than half of the HAT.
“Jim was right, Devon,” Ted said, “she’s unbelievable. But it’s still going to take a miracle.”
They’d been on pins and needles and the timer haunted them terribly, and although it had expired, the lenders were successful in propelling the system straight into high green. The conical ceiling basked in the radiance as the status meter at the center of the broadcast room radiated the welcome glow, still far below the mysterious purple status, yet throbbing as if it wanted to burst through.
Drones had penetrated the bay entrance to the inner facility. Outside the door muffled pounding combined with a low hum terrorized those awake in the broadcast room. The lenders lay sound asleep. Devon verified that lender stability and the dream environment held exceptionally stable, seemingly, the more the merrier.
“After what I’m seeing here—” Ted said, exhibiting mental exhaustion. “—my hope is bolstered, but they’re inside the facility, Devon. As grand as the attempt was, I don’t think we have much time.”
“Ted.” Rico came over the speaker, snapping the two out their trance. They had a mix of astounded elation, shadowed by the despair of unaltered probability. “Ted!”
Ted turned to the panel behind the HAT and answered the call, “We’re here, Rico. For as long as we can be.”
“I know, Ted, they’re inside but the hall lasers are keeping up, for now, blasting the shit out of the bastards—” He thought with introspection, I’m starting to curse like Jim. “—they’re at our door but we’ve been watching them. Our system is highly intelligent and learns fast. It waits until they’re near the door then takes them out. They have to clean out their own losses in order to maintain the offense, so their progress is slowed. And good news, our outer forces are waking up. I don’t know how you did it amigo but they’re on the way. We have sixteen perimeter ships, the one Nelman gave us, number eleven, is down and in the process of auto-repair, fourteen are staying back to hold the perimeter, number five is headed our way to assist.”
“But they’ll be through our door any moment,” Ted replied, having had run more calculations. “I hate to be the pessimist, but I’m not seeing it.”
“I know, it is going to be close. We’re seeing numbers we could’ve never imagined, not in our wildest, dreams. Thousands, millions of drones, highly advanced technologically—it’s almost unfathomable. But we’re not giving up hope. Abell is propping supplies against our door—I suggest you do the same. We have to hang on a little while longer. The huge plus is the way our facility was designed, brilliant, a huge bottleneck!”
“The townspeople? And Abell?” Ted asked.
“The safe-room door is holding, better than ours I’d say. It’s as if they’re targeting something here in the facility and leaving that door alone for the most part. And yes, Abell is with us. He never made it to you. When he passed the bay door it was giving in so he propped it up with fifty-pound bags of salt. That bought us some time. It was a close call so he headed back this way.”
“Okay, good luck to us all,” Ted said. We’ll need it, he thought. He didn’t know where Rico had gotten the sudden blast of hope and optimism but he sure could use some. He noticed a change in Rico since his logout. But could it be? So quickly, he thought. The pounding on the door intensified. “Let’s get that door propped up.”
Rico was glad the automation had returned to 100%. It took over all lasers with cunning efficiency. His screen was littered with blips—like space debris of the early 2020s—as if all the fireflies of the world had been stuffed into one jar. He turned to the HAT in order to better get a grasp on the situation.
Relatively small truck-tire-sized drones buzzed around the town like locusts, obliterating the once serene space outside while searching for life. Smaller pie-plate-sized pests scanned every crevice. And everything was ablaze. If, by some chance the town could abolish them, there’d be no more kitchens or restaurants, gymnasiums or green walks in the park, and no more homes. But at least most had made it into the facility, forces were coming back strong, and auto-repairs were making strides. It was an all-out melee, a battle to regain the balance. The scales were tipping, less in favor of the little jewel in the desert, but hope remained.
“Guys, I got something here, and it’s big, really big,” Rico said, now able to see more detail; he fully exploited the large hologram view of the control-room HAT.
“Abell, keep propping this up,” Ron said, and then headed to join Rico. He’d been helping Abell, who was doing a great job propping up the door with supplies. He made a solid wall using the heaviest of items from the supply room. Boxes of cheese turned moldy green blocks of steel, bricks upon bricks of diamond-hard bread, and bounce-a-bullet gelled syrup would be their final hope.
“My—what in the world. It’s—it’s huge!” Ron said, arriving directly across from him. “Is it one of ours?” The large grey entity appearing in the hologram was headed straight for Jewel City.
“I don’t know but it’ll be within visible range in just a few minutes. It’s moving fast and—look here.” Rico noticed the same drones that were attacking the town had also begun to attack the ship. And it had no signature like the other drones so they couldn’t tell if it was friendly but the red blips around it were disappearing at a fast rate. “Our outer ships must have decided to let it pass. I think, it must be—it’s working for us! It’s taking these drones out and not slowing down one bit.” Rico pointed to the drones surrounding it. Like cookie crumbs falling from a thin-lipped glutton’s piehole, the drones faded from view. It appeared the large ship was taking them out, effortlessly, clearing one hell of a path. Ron sighed. The three experienced a tidal wave of relief, Abell’s being the least outbursting. Rico officially declared it a friendly to the system, so the wall lasers would assist upon its arrival. After setting the exception, it appeared as green on the display.
Abell finished reinforcing the door. He did all he could do. And, as a cherry on his cake, he topped it off by putting the now squirming David on top of the pile. David was messed up, bad, and his face was swollen like a knobby balloon, but he had caught his breath and was still plastered enough to put the pain aside, somewhat. He snickered to himself atop the massive pile, mumbling barely coherent words: “Jessie, oh, I’m gonna, ah, just like that. Oh, Jessie, why, why, why wouldn’t you touch me?” The team glanced up to him momentarily with little regard. He was quiet and seemed to be entertaining himself, and they had more important issues at hand.
After a few minutes the large ship was close enough for a vague visual.
“On screen,” Rico said. To display it in visual light, Ron manually directed the wall camera nearest the strange object. He tapped a few more controls and the small hologram table fully generated its 3D vector image. It was huge, at least two hundred feet long, a floating building shaped like a large sausage. The bottom of the sausage had been sliced flat but it still had an overall rounded appearance—as well as could be seen from such a distance. There appeared to be large markings on the side of its metallic hull. And drones were attacking it, furiously. But it seemed to be taking very little damage and easily destroyed anything it encountered along the way. Dozens of lasers made it a traveling starburst. The behemoth left a trail of obliterated drones in its wake as if paving its own road; marking the crusty rain-soaked desert, the remaining detritus was a black scar of ash and smoke.
“The outer ships must’ve communicated with it somehow,” Rico said. “The support ship that was en route to assist changed course, it’s headed back to seal the outer perimeter.”
Ron pulled a fist at his side. “We are gonna make it.” Abell towered beside him, half smiling at the news as though he was juggling his thoughts.
“Well, we have a chance
,” Rico said. “It’s coming fast, and by the size of it, I’m glad it’s on our side. I’ll let Ted and his team in on the good news.”
Nobody in the broadcast room noticed the flashing red call light. Focus was on stopping the machines from getting inside. The pounding continued to get louder, faster.
Old Doc stood by Amy’s side as she lay on the lending bed. She was stable and looked peaceful in her sleep, and surprisingly, her color had returned to a small degree. More than the blue lights at her temples, and what she could possibly be doing there, he wondered about his findings yesterday. He’d planned on informing Jim first, during his usual visit, but the day had other plans, undoubtedly. Nobody would have predicted this. But it could wait. And his old self didn’t have the strength to fight or move furniture so he decided to stay with Amy. He tended to her as best he could. Later, if time allowed, he would disclose to Ted and the others his discovery.
Non-lenders, and lenders who hadn’t logged in, Ted, the twins, Young Doc, and especially Bertha, were sweating heavily. They’d moved the refrigerator across the room. With Bertha’s indispensable help they also propped three heavy stretching machines behind the door. Almost single-handedly she did most of the work. Boxes of can goods and other items from the supply room were stuffed between one of the room’s solid steel support beams. Luckily it had been built ten feet behind the entrance and substantially helped to brace the door. Hopefully they’d bought themselves some time.
Ted finally noticed the flashing light and rushed over. “It’s a call from Rico,” he declared quietly, using sign language. The others ran over, even the unauthorized. Everyone hoped for some good news.
