The Incubus, Succubus and Son of Perdition Box Set: The Len du Randt Bundle

by Len du Randt

  The interview was over and the camera panned and zoomed in on Connie’s face. ‘Thank you for your time, Mr. Harris,’ she said and greeted the man before turning to face the camera. ‘There you have it: aliens attacking Earth; People with strange gifts appearing out of nowhere. We surely have a strange time ahead of us. This is Connie Jacobs for GMN News. Back to you, Rebecca.’

  ‘Thank you, Connie,’ the anchor behind the news desk said as she prepared to read the headlines. ‘Many of the world leaders are still missing since early this morning. There is no telling if they were victims of the alien attacks, or if they were killed as a result of the ensuing chaos.

  ‘All major airports have been evacuated and ground controls have landed some of their unmanned planes using ‘Global Hawk’ technology. This technology enables a pilot from the ground to take over and control up to as many as four unmanned planes at once. Some of the smaller unmanned planes that were not Global Hawk compliant crashed in various areas around the world. According to rescue workers, the only bodies found on those planes were those of the passengers. All the planes that had crashed were missing the pilot.’

  A sudden knock on the door made Trevor jump. ‘I’m coming,’ he shouted and checked the progress of the steaks before heading for the door. René’s weak smile greeted him as he opened the door, and he welcomed her into his apartment. She struggled to carry all the bags that she had brought with, and he took most of them for her. Other than a few personal items, the bags contained mostly food and clothing.

  ‘I’m glad to see you made it okay,’ he said. ‘Seen any ‘aliens’ on the way?’

  ‘None,’ she said, quite seriously.

  ‘Let me put this in your room,’ he said and heaved the bags toward the spare bedroom. She carried what remained after him, examining his place as they went.

  - - -* * *- - -

  Malcolm jolted awake at a loud knock on the front door. They had fallen asleep. Mary and Timothy also woke as he stumbled through the dark, trying to find the light switch. How long have we been sleeping? He switched on the light.

  Timothy squinted and buried his face in his hands. He moaned about the light and then pulled a blanket over his head.

  Could it be, Angie? Malcolm thought, but knew that his expectations would probably only end in disappointment. He opened the door, but kept the chain on. ‘Can I help you?’ he asked in the direction of a silhouette.

  ‘Please, sir,’ he heard a soft voice plead. ‘My wife, two daughters, and I need shelter and food. Would you mind taking us in?’

  Under normal circumstances, Malcolm’s initial response would have been negative; but these weren’t normal circumstances. He unchained the door and opened it, allowing the man and his family to enter his home. His stomach turned when he realized that the man thanking him with a firm handshake was a Muslim.

  He would never in his life have imagined this scenario taking place under his roof, but with all that had happened today, he actually welcomed his guests. Mary and Timothy also seemed relieved to have the extra company.

  ‘My name is Kassim Patel,’ the man said, then pointed to his wife. ‘And this is my wife, Nasreen, and our daughters, Ameena and Laila.’

  ‘I’m Malcolm,’ he introduced himself. ‘And this is my wife, Mary, and our son, Timothy.’ He wanted to say something about Angie, but couldn’t find the words. Mary knelt down and hugged the two girls who reminded her so much of her own daughter; and for a moment she was hugging Angie. That was all she wanted to do the entire day.

  ‘Let’s prepare dinner, shall we?’ she asked the girls, who shyly agreed with eager nods.

  - - -* * *- - -

  ‘I hope you’re hungry,’ Trevor said as he checked up on his steak-ala-Trev.

  ‘What are you making?’ she asked carefully.

  ‘Just grilling a steak with some potatoes,’ he said modestly.

  She pulled her face. ‘I’m a vegetarian,’ she said, careful not to sound too blunt and hurt his feelings.

  Trevor looked down at the frying meat, and didn’t say anything for a while. ‘Okay then,’ he said before the quietness had a chance to become uncomfortable. ‘You get a double portion of potatoes and I get an extra steak.’ He chuckled and winked. ‘We both win.’ He then started on a vegetarian-friendly sauce for the jacket potatoes and motioned her to the living room.

  ‘Is there something I can help you with?’ she asked, eager to earn her keep.

  ‘I’m good,’ he said. ‘You just get comfortable.’

  She humbly agreed and made her way to the living room. ‘Mind if I watch this?’ she asked and pointed at the television.

  ‘Not at all,’ Trevor said. ‘Make yourself at home.’

  She smiled faintly and turned up the volume of the television as she sank deeply into his couch. ‘Mr. Harris,’ the interviewer asked, ‘what do you think was the cause of today’s worldwide chaos of death and destruction?’

  A subtitle introduced the man as the American Deputy Minister of Defence. ‘Well, Miss Jacobs,’ he said. ‘There are three widespread theories going around as to the actual cause behind this morning’s global carnage. The first of these theories are that it was a weapon of mass destruction, capable of eradicating random people around the world.’

  ‘Is there such a weapon, Mister Harris, and if so, who would have used it?’

  ‘There is no known weapon of this calibre, Miss Jacobs,’ the bald man said truthfully. ‘And since every single country was affected by it, it is unreasonable to think that it could have been a manmade device. To my knowledge, there is no government on Earth that would do this to its own people.’

  ‘So it is safe to assume, for the time being, that no weapons of mass destruction had been used?’

  ‘That is correct,’ the man said.

  ‘And the second theory?’

  ‘The second theory is what some over-zealous Christians would call the Rapture.’

  ‘The Rapture?’

  Mr Harris nodded. ‘It is an event where ‘God’ is supposed to remove His chosen people from Earth before the total annihilation of the planet.’

  The speaker had Trevor’s full attention. Norman had mentioned the Rapture a couple of times before, and he even had an ‘in case of the Rapture, this vehicle will be unmanned,’ bumper sticker on his car.

  ‘And your opinion about that, Mister Harris?’

  ‘We very much doubt that this is the case, Miss Jacobs,’ the bespectacled man said. ‘It is difficult to think that a ‘God of love’ would allow such a terrible thing to happen to the people that He had supposedly created. And if this theory did indeed ring true, how would you explain the vast numbers of Christians still left on the planet? Some of the most revered evangelists are still here. There has been almost no change in the Christian community at all.’

  He is right, Trevor thought, feeling stupid for almost believing—even if only for a split second—that it could have indeed been the Rapture. After all, Andrew was a Christian and still here.

  ‘And the third theory?’ Connie asked.

  ‘Ah yes,’ Mister Harris answered excitedly. ‘The alien attacks.’

  ‘This is the theory introduced by Victor Yoshe earlier today, correct?’ Connie asked.

  ‘Indeed,’ Mister Harris confirmed. ‘I am quite sure that everyone alive after the attacks has received his message today; a brilliant display of modern technology interlaced with the psychic power of the mind. Simply powerful stuff.’

  ‘It was extraordinary indeed, Mister Harris,’ Connie said, then asked, ‘But just who is this Victor Yoshe?’

  ‘We don’t have enough information about this man to make a public statement yet, Miss Jacobs, but he sure has the means to get things done and he knows his facts. He is currently assisting the remaining world leaders in the war against the aliens. Also, he has a telepathic gift which makes him a most remarkable person, and quite the leader that we need in a crisis such as this one. In short, I will trust him with my life.’
r />   ‘Were there any warning signs of an alien attack?’ Connie asked as she flipped through her notes. ‘And if so, what were they?’

  ‘The signs have always been there: the Crop Circles, Roswell, the Pyramids...’

  Trevor had seen this part of the interview before René came. It was a rerun, and he would most probably still see it a few more times before the war ended. He shifted his focus to the ready-to-eat steaks in the oven. At least someone was going to enjoy them.

  - - -* * *- - -

  ‘You have to see this,’ René said as Trevor made his way from his bedroom.

  ‘You won’t believe it. There’s this guy that can communicate with the dead,’ she said excitedly. ‘Viewers call into the station, and he can tell them about the people that they lost today, as well as relay certain messages from them.’

  ‘And you believe this mumbo jumbo?’ Trevor asked sceptically. René waved the question off while she kept her attention focussed on the television. The man was young, with a tidy haircut and a charismatic face. After a short commercial break, he introduced himself again to the audience that might have just tuned in. His name was Steven Edgar, and he briefly explained how he managed to communicate with the dead. While he spoke, a universal telephone number flashed at the bottom of the screen.

  ‘Should I try?’ Trevor mocked.

  ‘Yeah,’ René encouraged him. ‘What do you have to lose?’

  ‘My dignity?’

  René punched him good-heartedly on his shoulder and he picked up the phone and dialled the number. It was engaged. He tried it again and found it engaged still.

  ‘It’s not working,’ he said and hung up. ‘The network must still be busted.’

  ‘Keep trying.’

  ‘Hello caller from Maine,’ Steven said, looking right at the camera. A faint voice could be heard over the speakers. It wasn’t Trevor’s. He would try again once more after this guy.

  ‘Hello?’ answered the voice. ‘Is this Steven?’

  ‘Yes, it is,’ Steven confirmed. ‘And you are?’

  ‘Hi. I’m Alfred, and I was wondering if you could tell me anything about my wife? She...she disappeared today...’

  ‘All right, Alfred,’ Steven said. ‘I cannot guarantee that it would indeed be your wife coming through. It might be some long time deceased relative or someone that has a link to her, do you understand?’

  ‘Uh-huh,’

  ‘I sense a female coming through. Her name is either Eileen or sounds similar to it, but it is definitely a name that has the ‘Ei’ sound in it.’

  ‘My wife’s name was Eileen!’ the man exclaimed with mounting excitement. ‘This is incredible!’

  ‘She’s saying something about a pocket knife. Does that mean anything to you?’

  ‘Yes, she bought me one for my birthday last year.’

  ‘Also, the number six is coming through strongly. It’s either the sixth of a month, or the sixth month—’

  ‘Yes, that’s my birthday. The sixth of August.’

  ‘Okay,’ Steven said, ‘that’s her way of confirming that we have the right connection here.’

  ‘Is...is she okay?’ the caller asked, unable to hide the emotion in his voice.

  ‘She is fine, Alfred,’ Steven said with a soothing voice. ‘She wants you to know that she is on a higher level of understanding now. She also wants you to know that she will be looking out for you and will be guiding you in the years to come, until you are both reunited again.’

  ‘So...she’s dead?’

  ‘Only in body,’ Steven said sympathetically. ‘But her spirit will continue to be with you until you are both united again.’

  ‘Thank you so much, Steven,’ the man said and hung up.

  Trevor used the redial to try the number again. It was still engaged. ‘One more time,’ he told René as he pressed the key one last time. He was just about to hang up when the phone on the other end of the line started ringing. ‘It’s ringing!’ he shouted, his heart pounding wildly in his chest.

  - - -* * *- - -

  Both families in Malcolm Freedman’s house were glued in front of the television. Now and then, an explosion somewhere outside would divert their attention, and it appeared that the war was raging full scale outside in the city’s streets. Timothy and the adults were watching a show called ‘The Other Side,’ as the two girls lay sleeping on a duvet in front of the television.

  According to the host, Steven Edgar, he could reunite the living with their deceased loved ones telepathically through a gift that he received as a child.

  ‘All right,’ Steven said, ‘our next caller is from South Africa,’

  A fuzzy voice came over the speakers, followed by an ear-piercing screech. ‘You have to turn down the volume on your television set,’ Steven said.

  Shuffling.

  The sound faded, and a man’s voice came over the speakers. ‘Oh, thanks, Steven. Sorry about that.’

  ‘It happens,’ Steven said with a warm smile.

  ‘My name is Trevor,’ the caller introduced himself. ‘Erm...so what can you tell me?’ Trevor asked. His voice sounded sceptical, even challenging.

  ‘Hi, Trevor,’ Steven said. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. ‘I have a female coming through. She’s standing to the front of me which tells me that she has to be close family, like a mother or a sister—’

  ‘I don’t have a sister.’

  Steven opened his eyes. ‘Is your mother alive?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Your mother, then. She is coming through as an older figure. Tell me, does the name Patrick mean anything to you?’

  Silence.

  ‘Hello, sir?’

  ‘Patrick was my father...’

  ‘He is coming through with her. I can sense that her name is either Eliza, or has a ‘z’ sound in it.’

  ‘My mother’s name was Elizabeth,’

  ‘I’m sorry to ask you this, but did they die when you were young?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And was it a violent death? I’m asking this because I’m getting images that their deaths might have been violent.’

  ‘It was.’

  Malcolm could hear the emotion laced in the man’s voice and he could only share in the man’s loss.

  ‘They’re telling me that they’re fine,’ Steven told the caller. ‘They’re also letting me know that they have been watching over you and your brother through all the years.’

  ‘Norman,’

  ‘Is Norman still with us?’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ the caller said, this time less sceptical. ‘You tell me.’

  ‘I’m sensing a male figure coming through. He is also standing to my front, which indicates immediate family. He is telling me about a book on war and dragons, or something like that.’

  Silence again, and then deep breathing. ‘Norman...’

  ‘Was he a tall person?’

  An emotional chuckle confirmed the answer. ‘Yes, he was tall. Is he...?’

  ‘He has stepped over to the other side,’ Steven confirmed.

  More silence.

  Steven closed his eyes for a moment, and then frowned. ‘Did you two have some sort of...disagreement...the last time you spoke?’

  ‘We did, yes.’

  ‘He is asking me to tell you that it’s okay, that it was a silly matter, and that he wants you to know that you were right; something about his religion that wasn’t true, or at least doesn’t matter to him anymore.’

  ‘He was a Christian.’

  Steven frowned. ‘He is letting me know that he is on a higher plane of understanding now, and that there is no Heaven or Hell, but that there is only energy, understanding, and love.’

  ‘Thank...you,’ Trevor said and hung up.

  Malcolm was engulfed with emotion for Angie again and was glad that everyone else was fixated on the television. He didn’t want them to see the tears streaming down his face.

  - - -* * *- - -

  Trevor wept bitterly, an
d René took him in her arms to try and comfort him.

  ‘It’s okay, Trev,’ she said, biting her lip to stop herself from crying too. ‘Let it out,’ she whispered. ‘Let it all out.’

  .IV.

  Aftermath: Federation Earth

  ‘I believe that it would also be true that the recognition has grown that, indeed, the world has grown into a Global Village. The survival of everyone in this village demands that we develop a universal consensus to act together to ensure that there is no longer any river that divides our common habitat into poor and wealthy parts.’

  - South African President, Thabo Mbeki, August 26, 2002

  Despite a few scattered burning buildings, the industrial district was devoid of life. A dog howled somewhere in the distance, then thought better of it, or was silenced by someone. The wind passed through the empty streets, but didn’t dare make a sound.

  Only an empty soda can made a soft cling-cling-cling sound as it rolled down a deserted street, did a little twirl, and then rolled on. A dim light seeped through the covered window of an old abandoned warehouse. Inside the warehouse, the gathering of seven hooded figures commenced. In the background, soft chanting echoed through the abandoned building, and it was difficult to determine whether it was actual people chanting, or if it was a recording.

  ‘I believe that we have all received the message today?’ one of the hooded figures addressed the remaining six.

  They all nodded their agreement in unison.

  ‘Is it then safe to presume that he is the one?’

  The question was followed by long moment of thoughtful silence and soft chanting in the background. Finally a hollow voice lacking any form of emotion cut through the silence. ‘He is the one.’