Ascension: Invocation (3 page)

He emerged a few moments later, this time accompanied by a familiar face. "Milan! Welcome to the war zone," he said. It was Dr. Charles Trumboldt, an astrophysicist. He and Milan had attended several conferences together in the past. Both were in-demand speakers. Milan smiled and shook his hand.

"Let's hope it's not a war zone," he joked.

"Yeah, I suppose that's debatable. You have to admit, though, it does feel like something out of H.G. Wells. Are you in town with the network?"

"Yes. I just arrived this morning."

"I'm surprised they let you in. No one here wants to leak anything to the press until we have a better understanding of what's happening."

"I understand, but I'm not here as a reporter. I want to assist in any way that I can."

Charles knew that Milan would bring a unique perspective to the assembled group. He was, after all, an accomplished physicist. His theories were sound and, truth be told, he might be useful as a trusted spokesperson should the need arise. Still, Charles had been given strict orders to avoid leaking information. That said he felt he could trust Milan.

"You'll have to quit the network. Effective immediately. No more reports."

Milan didn't hesitate. This was the chance of a lifetime. "Consider it done."

Charles shook his hand again. "Welcome aboard. Come on back."

Milan followed Charles to the conference room. Along the way, he removed his press credentials and tossed them in a nearby trash can. He simply wouldn't return in an hour as he had promised. This probably wouldn't come as a shock to the network as they had employees abandoning their jobs by the hour. What were they going to do? Sue him? Milan was pretty sure he would win whatever court battle he'd be facing given the circumstances. In fact, it was strange, he thought, that this concern even crossed his mind.

Almost immediately, Charles and Milan were stopped. A stern-looking woman with piercing eyes halted them as soon as she caught sight of them. "Where's this man's clearance?" she demanded.

"He's only just arrived. This is Dr. Milan Janáček. He's a respected theoretical physicist. His input will be very helpful. We're fortunate to have him," Charles pitched.

She paused and seemed to quickly size up Milan. She didn't appear to sense a threat. "I'll need to run him through," she concluded.

"I'm sure that will be fine. Milan can you please follow Ms. Hendrix? She needs to run a background and security check on you."

"Certainly. That will be fine," Milan smiled. Ms. Hendrix didn't smile back but waved him into an adjacent office.

She instructed Milan to have a seat and he sat on a couch amidst boxes of what appeared to be radio station business. Commercial orders and spreadsheets were messily stacked in white cardboard, labeled with black marker. His OCD kicked in. He felt a compelling urge to begin organizing the files but that would be clearly inappropriate. Instead, he folded his hands in his lap as Ms. Hendricks sat in front of a laptop computer and began asking him questions: full name, social security number, address, etc.

"Where were you born, Doctor?"

"Chicago, Illinois."

She began to read from her computer screen. "Your parents were Czech immigrants; your father a pianist, your mother a home-maker. You received your B.S. in physics from Columbia College in 1976 and your doctorate in theoretical physics from The Rockefeller University in 1981 under Professor Spalding Ianthe. You later worked with Professor Yashmir Andropov of Tel Aviv University. You've since authored ten books, numerous articles on quantum mechanics. Your books are equally praised and criticized for their informal style, and you are routinely credited by both fans and critics as having a talent for communicating highly abstract scientific concepts in ways that are accessible to everyday readers. This talent led to your being hired as an on-air science consultant for the Triton Broadcasting Network. You currently hold the Ivan Acker Chair and Professorship in theoretical physics at City College of New York, where you have lectured for more than 20 years."

"Wow," Milan laughed. "All of that from a few keystrokes. Are you in some sort of government database? At least it's all good, right?"

"It's Wikipedia. You were arrested in 1982 for driving under the influence, you have five outstanding parking tickets in three cities, you have three active memberships to online adult websites including..."

"I get it. Wait. That's on Wikipedia?"

Hendricks shook her head 'no' and just then Charles ducked his head into the room. "We're ready to begin. Are you finished, Ms. Hendricks?"

Hendricks continued typing on the laptop and spoke as her eyes darted around the screen. "He looks okay. No major criminal history. I'll give him a pass."

"May I go?" Milan asked.

She nodded, and he got up to follow Charles. The conference room was now especially crowded. Milan vaguely recognized a few faces in the crowd, but this didn't seem to be the right time for introductions. The shaking air was beginning to irritate Milan. It was as if he were surrounded by sub-woofers, all rattling out the same silent, steady bass note. The curious thing to him was that this nonstop vibration did not appear to influence sound waves. He would assume that this should somehow affect the way he heard noise; the rate at which the voices in the room would travel. Also, the hum appeared to create an illusion that the oxygen in the room was heavier than it had been prior to the rip. The vibe was just an irritant, albeit one that had appeared to increase its velocity in recent moments.

The general that had escorted Milan to the house stepped to the front of the conference table. "Ladies and gentlemen, we're ready to begin. I believe a recap of sorts is in order." The lights in the room dimmed, and a power-point presentation began with the general narrating each slide.

"On May 22nd, the radio station which we now occupy began experiencing signal interference. This began as minor static charges inhibiting their broadcast. A local radio DJ reported the discrepancy to the station's engineer. Upon investigation, no equipment failure was found nor did there appear to be any local interference from other licensed stations. As the engineer continued to search for the issue, the interference became stronger until finally a voice appeared on air. Here is a recording of the voice that most of you are already familiar with."

The sound clip played from the laptop computer. It simply sounded like a long distance radio broadcast bleeding into the station's frequency, but what the voice was saying was clear: "The Dark Age is nearly complete. Stand by."

The general continued. "This occurred on May 24th. The following day, the local DJ was engaged in conversation by the voice on-air. The voice was much clearer now. Again, many of you will recognize this recording."

"Graham, we can hear you."

"Hello?"

"Hello, Graham."

"Look, I don't know what's going on, but you're interfering with our station. This is an FCC violation."

“We look forward to your return.”

A new slide appeared on the screen. It was a photo of Graham on the cover of a radio industry trade magazine, ten years old. The general explained that Graham Barry was once a successful major market radio disc jockey, popular in Detroit and Dallas. At the height of his fame, he developed issues with alcohol which eventually led to him losing his job, etc. It was a typical fall from grace story. At 35, Graham eventually landed in Tuscumbia, Alabama five years ago, settling for a much lower paying job as the afternoon drive talent and Program Director for a Rock station.

"These brief conversations continued in much the same way for several days," the general said. "The community began to take note, and it was assumed that this was some sort of radio stunt being executed by Mr. Barry. He assured the radio station owner that this was not the case. It was the following exchange that began to alarm citizens and began the official FCC investigation at the request of the radio station owner."

The general played the recording as a transcript appeared on the screen:

Graham Barry: Where are you located?

Voice: Just as you are located in your universe, we are located in ours.

Graham Barry: So, I'm speaking with a voice from outer space?

Voice: This is inaccurate.

Graham Barry: Well, if you're a space alien how do you know our language?

Voice: You know our language.

Graham Barry: We speak your language?

Voice: This is correct.

Graham Barry: Mind blowing. Dude, seriously, I hope you understand that there are huge fines and even jail time associated with this kind of...

Playback was interrupted, and the General advanced to the next transcript slide. "The next exchange brought the communication to the attention of Dr. Trumboldt as the assumed pirate broadcaster revealed an equation considered to be of great scientific value. During this broadcast, it should be noted, the local DJ took a call from an audience member who asked the voice how one might travel at light speed...”

Voice: Travel at light speed is not possible. Your theory of relativity is correct.

Graham Barry: Well, thank you. Score one for Einstein!

Voice: Universal law dictates that if one were to travel at light speed, the mass of your traveling vessel would increase exponentially over time. It would cease to exist prior to reaching your destination. This is not practical.

Graham Barry: I would agree. Ceasing to exist prior to arrival would take all of the fun out of traveling.

Voice: Interstellar travel is best facilitated by bending space. This is perhaps better known to you as warp speed.

Graham Barry: Okay. So, how do we do that?

Voice: You are not prepared to utilize this information.

  Graham Barry: Spill it. What's the harm in passing it along? You said we're evolving. Give it up, man.

Voice: It is predetermined. Consider this:

Graham Barry: Okay. That meant nothing to me. Next caller.

The General began speaking again, “Of course, it should be noted that Mr. Barry, at this point, still assumed that he was speaking with a pirate broadcaster. As stated previously, the FCC began an investigation and could not determine the origin of the broadcast. Over the course of two days, the incident was picked up by a popular national late night radio talk show, Graham Barry was interviewed, and worldwide interest in the story spread, leading to coverage on a number of news outlets and widespread chatter on the internet. At this point, however, it was still assumed that this was a hoax executed by Mr. Barry."

Milan had thought this as well. Why would an extra-terrestrial being choose to make contact via one radio station in one town? Why radio at all? Wouldn't it make more sense to take control of one of our communications satellites or, for that matter, the Internet? A colleague had sent Milan an email about the events in Tuscumbia, Alabama, and the two had scoffed about it, making jokes. The aliens must have made an unfortunate, wrong turn to end up in Alabama, they laughed.

"Contact was lost until May 31st," the General stated. "On that day, Mr. Barry was once again briefly engaged in conversation."

Voice: Do not fear this. The Dark Age is nearly complete.

The recording ended, and the next slide occurred. It was a photo of the tear.

"Thereafter, what we assume to be an inter-dimensional tear appeared in the north-east sky above Tuscumbia, Alabama," the General explained. "Clearly, this is related to the transmissions, but we're not entirely sure how. The voice was heard once more prior to today simply indicating that it would address the world at noon on June 2nd. The tear is only visible here. So, if this is an inter-dimensional rip, it is, for some reason, centered here. Again, we don't know why. The tremors in the air that seem to be associated with the tear can be felt worldwide. You're all here today to hopefully assist us in answering some of these questions. So, let's begin the conversation."

The lights came up, and immediately hands were raised. The General began taking questions from the assembled group. "Am I correct in understanding that we cannot make contact?"

"That's right. Our efforts to contact the voice have been unsuccessful. We seem to be at their mercy for contact."