In A Universe Without Stars 1: Skyeater (15 page)

A
piece of wing from a jet pierces the wall next to him. The top halves of a
nurse and Isabel’s doctor lie motionless on top of it. Under the wing are their
slumping lower halves, they had no chance.

He
could see into the other rooms as the jet decided to take out all the other
walls. But Isabel lies as if nothing has happened. The wall behind her bed
still stands.

Thank
God. He pauses, he notices that her chest isn’t moving.

“No.”

The
word comes out softly, as if he doesn’t believe it, as if he says it any louder
then what he believes has happened will come true. He takes two steps forward.
She is definitely not moving, no sign of life. He finds courage to reach her
side.

The
tubes and wires are pulled towards the hole in the wall. The machine that was
keeping her alive fell out. She was unplugged. His heart drops, a crushing
feeling hits his lungs.

“No.
NO. NO!!” Wilker screams. He shakes her. Nothing. He’s too late.

He’s
the one who’s supposed to die.

Not
her.

Not
anymore. He pulls out the crystal Jahum gave to him. It sparks to life,
radiating a warm heat. He thrust it against her chest. The bruising doesn’t
matter if she lives.

Jahum
didn’t teach him how to use it but… the thing pulsates in his hand. It has to
work, it can’t happen this way. Something hits him. He knows what to do. He
closes his eyes and calms his heart. He focuses on the blue emerald in his
hand. He feels it heat up, he losses strength in his arms.

He
opens his eyes and looks down. His arms are lit up blue, streaking down his arm
into her body. The light melts away into her like a wave but she still doesn’t
move.

“Come
on!” Wilker yells. He pushes harder, the light illuminating what’s left of the
room. Still nothing. Her skin grows whiter.

“Please!
Don’t die on me! Please!” he begs. He can feel the heat, the power rushing into
her, but it fades into nothing, just the coldness and stillness of death. He
pushes harder and harder until—

Snap!
He hears a crack. He stops and pulls off his hands. The emerald snapped in
half, its light fading into darkness.

“No.”

Isabel.

He
thought he was prepared for this, after her being sick for all these years, but
the hope he was given and quickly taken away was that she would survive. The
hope was his mistake, believing in faith, in miracles, that’s the thing that
hurt him the most.

Wilker
screams at the top of his lungs and burst into tears.

“Isabel!!”
he sobs.

His
large frame collapses, he falls to his knees and sobs on her cold body.

The
battle outside heats up. There are no more screams, no more yells, for the
people who have the ability to are gone, for the snow has melted them away.

The
Eliites lay waste to the buildings of London. Wilker doesn’t care. He just
wants to be alone with Isabel, forever, even if the only way to do that is
death…

An
immediate calmness washes over him. As if suddenly everything in this cruel
world would be okay. He stops crying and wipes away his tears. He accepts her
death now.

This
isn’t right, he glances up. An Eliite right outside the hole, peeking in like a
small child. All of his problems, all of Wilker’s worries seem to evaporate. He
stands. The Eliite just floats there. Wilker stands up and walks around the bed
and looks at Isabel.

Farewell.

Isabel.

He
places a hand on her leg and repeats those very words in his head.

Acceptance.

This
is strange. He walks towards the hole. The Eliite stares back at him. Wilker
walks to the edge. He understands now.

It’s
him, that’s doing this.

A
white line runs up the middle of the Eliite. It slowly splits in half, a bright
white light erupts out of it. Wilker bores into it. It fully opens, straight
down the middle, in the middle of it a small ball of light shines out like a
star.

Wilker
understands what the being is. It’s a Serephin, an Eliite, who was converted
into almost pure energy to control their ships. Their complex ships called
faires. But in return their minds have turned childlike, they have a new born
wonderment to them.

The
two halves float back and away from the star. It shrinks morphing into a
humanoid figure which controls the faire. Wilker puts out his hand. The being
floats towards him, reaching out.

As
the being approaches, Wilker feels a rush of emotion wash through him, hate,
anger, sadness, despair, happiness, loneness, but ultimately understanding. As
the being gets closer, the feelings gets stronger, but so does the
understanding.

The
beings powers fatal flaw is for people like Wilker, people who have been given
power by Jahum. They have the power to alter emotions, when they go into battle
they calm their enemies, so either themselves or their comrades can easily
slaughter them. But for a mind like Wilker’s and with the powers of the
Astrons, it has the opposite effect.

It
pushes back inhibitions.

The
being gets closer, hands reaching out as it they were friends, as if they
weren’t trying to hurt him. Wilker amazes the being because he’s different from
the rest. Wilker can see through it. He knows how it work; he can see the veins
of energy pulsing through it and the energy sources that it comes from.

Which
is everywhere.

The
being’s hand is only inches from his. If he can see how the being is assembled.

Then
he can dissemble it. Their hands touch, the being screams a hellish howl. It
explodes in a cloud of light. The rest of the faire explode in a similar light.

Wilker
blinks the residue from his eyes as he lets down his arm. He sees London, or
what’s left of it. The buildings lay in waste. Black smoke replaces the clouds.
There are no more screams, no more yells as London finally sleeps.

London
is lost.

He
looks into the distance, the
Eliite’s
faires spread
out heading beyond the fields of London. He turns and heads toward the door. He
can destroy them.

“Stop,”
Jahum says. Wilker turns to see Jahum standing in the opening.

“Why?”
Wilker asks. Jahum has a confused look on his alien face.

“Why?
You are needed to save Earth,” Jahum says.

“Don’t
bloody fuck with me! You know what I am asking!” Wilker yells. Wilker shakes,
he rubs his arms to calm himself down.

“Why
did you make go through all of this…If you knew she couldn’t be saved?” Wilker
says. “I felt the power seeping out of her, your power didn’t click. Even if she
was alive I know my efforts would’ve met the same fate. You made me believe I
could’ve saved her!”

Jahum
looks down. Contemplating something. “She could have always been saved.”

“What?”

“I
gave you your powers when we first met. I can see the future, the futures of
many possibilities, it’s a curse for the powers I have as a god. Yet here on
Earth there is a man, a simple human being named Cole, whose future is clouded,
unpredictable, who’s affecting everyone around him. You are one of those
people,” Jahum says.

“I
have never met a Cole before, and that doesn’t answer my question,” Wilker
replies.

“You
will. At the beginning of time I was born with this universe. I saw the past, the
present, and the future. I lived in time itself. The closer I got to this
invasion, the less of the future I could see, a dark black cloud shadowing
Earth and the future. All those years ago, I saw the future of Isabel, had I
chosen her and you were left behind.”

…

Isabell
watches from a window as she leaves Earth, the blood-red oceans and cloudless
colorless skies, create an Earth she will never forget. A blood-red crystal
covers most of the Earth’s atmosphere.

“At
first, she was strong, willing and excited at the wonder of a new world. The
curiosity of finally having the answers and peeking into the heavens and
understanding the universe. But-“

Isabel
sits in a different room in a chair. A large window takes up most of the wall,
through it there is nothing. She stares at the blackness, her eyes damn-near
lifeless. In the blackness, three brown humanoids float alone in tandem, only a
speck to her.

“She
couldn’t handle it, your death and the implications of it. The nihilism of the
universe. The emptiness consumed her, she didn’t have the drive to live
anymore. You were her anchor that she clung onto, her drive, her reason to
live. She killed herself before we arrived at our new home world.”

Isabel’s
lifeless body lies on the floor of the ship. Her eyes glow bright white as her
arms are splayed out. A wisp of smoke comes out of her gaped mouth.

…

“Earth
is a very special place,” Jahum says. “So much uncertainty surrounds it. So
when I came here, I chose you, because of Cole and because
your
future and this planets is unclear to me. Maybe in the uncertainty your world
won’t end, maybe in the uncertainty the universe won’t end, in blackness,
emptiness and death with no chance of a new beginning. Isabel’s path was always
set, in the many possibilities of the future, but yours is not. I should have
told you when we first met but I did not create the universe, but I myself
created the stars, the very stars that gave life. And I’ve seen a future where
the universe has come to a premature end without hope of starting anew. Every
path of the future I saw was the same,” Jahum says. A small ship hovers down
over the opening.

“There’s
a possibility that we will not win, there’s a possibility that Earth will die
out, and there’s a possibility that you will die a meaningless death and the
universe will spark out. But there is a chance that none of these things will
happen. Because of you and a few choice others. I had to have you make closure,
so you wouldn’t fear these last few weeks and live life to the fullest, for
what to come will not be an easy path. I’m sorry I betrayed your trust.”

Jahum’s
apology seems genuine.

“Come
join us to save your world.” Jahum lifts his hand. Wilker doesn’t take it.

“No,
how can you chose who lives or who dies? Who decided to give you that power!
You don’t have the right to change my fate or any others! You DON’T have that
right!” Wilker screams.

“I
know, I don’t have that right. But I do have the right to preserve my species
and life in the universe.”

Wilker
looks past Jahum and his ship and out into the burning remains of London, his
town, his life. He then looks at his resting wife. The ash from outside coats
her body. A fitting burial, for the end of the world. He clenches his fist.

“I
will join your battle, but I am not one of you, I will do everything in my
power to deny you and I will change the way you and the others think, I will
bring you down for this.”

“I
would expect you too,” Jahum replies. It’s as if he expected Wilker’s answer.
Wilker walks to Jahum, and Jahum turns. They disappear in a flash of light.
Jahum’s ship hovers away from the hospital and shoots off into the sky. A
smoking London is left in its wake.

Goodbye
London.

Noata
sits
in a launch ship, shaking in his seat. It’s the same boy from Six Flags, the
same boy who lost his girlfriend and watched his coworkers die. Serena sits
across from him, Wilker next to her, he has a snarl.

Serena
notices how fidgety Noata is.

“Hey,
what’s your name?”

He
looks at her and looks down. “Noata.”

“If
we stick together everything will be fine.”

“Why
are you introducing yourself? When we are all
going
to
die soon,” Wilker puts in.

Serena
rolls her eyes, this isn’t the first time she heard this.

“God!
Shut the fuck up, Wilker,” Serena says.

“You
cannot deny how bad our odds are. We are the handicaps. We are going to die.”

“Jahum
said we had a chance, you need to shut up.”

“Boy—I
mean, Noata, do you know why we are with the defense team?” Wilker asks.

Noata
looks at him, he doesn’t want to join in. He wants to be left alone. “No.”

“It’s
because you’re like me, you were raised to use your brain. That’s our power,
the power to understand, we are not fighters. That’s why we were relegated to
defend. I don’t know why she is with us,” Wilker says pointing to Serena.

“I
have a masters in psychology.”

“You
have a degree in nothing.”

“I
really don’t want to be a part of whatever argument you guys are having,” Noata
says.

“You
don’t understand why I’m including you, we are not ready for this. We cannot
fight them. Only fifty of the chosen can fight, they have the power too, the
rest of us are useless. If we learn to use our powers we can, but most if not
all of us won’t learn in time. I’m the only one in this group who knows how to
use my powers but even then I don’t think we can win.”

“Nobody
asked you,” Serena says.

“I’m
just trying to add a dose of bloody reality to the situation.”

“So…I’m
like you? How do you know all of this?”

“Yes,
you have the power to understand. It’s hard to describe and damn near
impossible to teach, and I’m sure that bastard Jahum didn’t fully explain it. I
was the first one to be given our powers. Which is the only reason I’m just now
starting to understand them. The others aren’t as lucky.”

Noata
looks at the other two on their squad. They have their head down. Noata looks
at Wilker. He sighs, it seems like he’s taking out his anger on them. They’re
all in the same boat, some people just take it differently.

Wilker
places his hand on the projection in the middle.

“Well,
if you do decide to fight, we should figure out what we are going against.”

The
map changes and displays a grunt.

Lance
looks out of one of the slots in the launch ship, staring out at nothing. Julio
messes with the display in the middle,
projecting
all the enemy types the Eliite have in their army. He switches through the
views. 

“Alright,
let me see if I’ve memorized them, so there are grunts, which I fought in LA.
Angels, which you encountered in NYC. Damons, which are generals of a sort.
Alphas, which just look like smaller grunts. Faires, their battleships, and
then Peons, those fly looking motherfuckers. Is that all?” Julio asks, counting
on his fingers.

“Great,
my friend but you forgot the Cell, it’s—“

Jahum
comes on an overhead speaker.

“We
hope you have had time to look over the information we’ve provided for you, if
not we’re sorry, but we must now brief you on your individual objectives.”

The
display in the middle changes into a map of Washington, D.C. A circle appears
in the middle of it, encasing a couple miles on the map.

“The
main battle will take place in the center of the city, the extreme north,
south, east and west points of the city are safe zones for the civilians.”

The
extreme points of the map glow green.

“The
safe zones won’t be their main targets but that won’t stop them from being
attacked.”

The
map zooms out and shows the outer city limits. A red line outlines the city.

“The
outskirts of the city are off limits, if you attempt to leave you will die. The
Eliite wants to and will keep this battle as contained as possible.” 

Julio
knew this battle was coming, he’s tried to
steel
his
mind for this and for a second there he did, but hearing the intricate details
is taking him back. He can fight, he can do this, hell, he thinks he wants to
do this, and he’s not alone this time. He has Lance, who seems like he can hold
his own. The others he figures will die as soon as they step off the ship
seeing how silent and reserved they are right now.

“We
split the chosen into two groups, the first group is going to protect the safe
zones and the others are the attack groups, an active unit to suppress and
subdue the enemy during the ever changing currents of the battle.”

The
sides of their seats pop open. Guns slide out.

“You’re
an attack group. This is your long range weapon. For short range you can use
the abilities we showed you.”

Julio
grabs his gun. It looks like a gun straight from a video game. It’s twice as
big as a standard army issued M4 and has two triggers.

“It
has two attack modes, a regular round that can pierce the Serephins skin and
destroy a human-made tank.”

Julio
looks over the gun, it’s been a while since he held one. “And a special round
which can incapacitate and destroy a Faire frigate ship and smaller vehicles.”

Julio
looks at the second trigger.

“Damn,”
he says. Lance next to him awkwardly holds his.

Julio
tries to steel himself again, he fears nothing,
he
will win. He’s done it once before in LA and has seen Cole do even more. Who
cares if there will be ten times as many more enemies in an area so small it
can fit into Los Angeles eight times over?

He
doesn’t and he can’t.

It’s
now or never.

“Your
objective is simple, to protect your world and annihilate anyone who will get
in your way. This isn’t a time for hiding or intricate strategy, this is a
total war. The only way this will end is by total eradication of humanity or
the Eliite.” The speaker turns off. The chosen are left in silence to their
thoughts.

…

Thora
throws her bag on a pile of bags on a dinky hotel bed. Thora and Arnold pack up
the small hotel room. Arnold has Neil in a baby holder on his chest. Jahum was
able to save them both, the marvel of their technology.

But
this is how far he was able to go.

This
hotel room.

“Is
that everything? We’re going to be late,” Thora asks. Arnold looks around, the
liveliness he once had in his face is gone.

“Seems
like it,” Arnold says in a monotone voice.

Arnold
and Thora walk out of the hotel, carrying their things. It’s a dark cloudy day
over D.C. 

A
school bus awaits for them. A line builds from its door with soldiers guarding them.
They walk up to the line. They’re last.

Just
a few minutes later they’re on the bus. It’s filled with other civilians:
little kids sitting on parents’ laps, over-stuffed bags shoved under the seats.
They are all going to their new home, a safe house in the north part of the
city.

The
military assured them they would be safe but from the atmosphere in the bus,
the people don’t believe them. Thora looks to the back, the only seats
remaining are there.

The
bus drives through the streets of Washington. The streets look odd, they’re
filled with military personal, American and foreign. SAM sites are set on
rooftops, sandbags and bases are being set in plazas and apartments. American
and foreign soldiers working together in their own uniforms. A mix of greens,
greys, tans, navies and blues. The world is finally united.

Thora
looks out the window of the bus and up into the gray dreary sky. A squad of
jets and helicopters pass overhead. It’s eerily quiet, the thumps of the
propellers and the blast of the engines only marginally breaks the calm.

…

The
president sits at his desk, staring out the window. There is something in the
background, yelling and screaming.

Something
important, but as he stares into the sky, almost nothing can break the
quietness.

The
calm.

 It’s
almost scary how calm he is when his world is at war. The quietness of a
thoughtful leader, the calmness of a powerful speaker.

This
is what he wants.

He
is lucky though that he doesn’t have a wife nor kids. He was elected despite
that fact, just based on how good of a politician he was. His opponents fought
him over it though, saying how could he be a good president if he didn’t have a
wife to go back home to, to ground him? He’s the first bachelor president since
Buchanan. He thought about settling down with a wife and kids after his term
but he thinks it’s too late for that.

The
window flickers. His calm is broken. He turns around, he’s in the emergency
underground operations center, standing in a fake oval office. The window is a
fake projection of the sky. A desk is in front of him and the national security
advisor and secretary of defense talk. Behind them is the command room, filled
with generals and officials of varying statuses bustling around preparing for
battle.

The
fake oval office gives an illusion of stability, if the president is safe in
his office giving a speech to the world then the United States government still
has some kind of control.

The
vice president walks up. “Our generals now have full control of the world’s
military sir,” the vice president says.

“Good.
I still can’t believe they gave us full control. The world’s nations are
willing to do anything in a time of need,” the president replies.

“There
are no more nations, all our allies are wiped out and the soldiers we got are
only sailors with nowhere else to go,” the secretary of defense says.

“We’re
the only country left with a standing government. Once the Eliite hit we didn’t
even have time to come up with a strategy or issue the orders to move soldiers
around. We lost contact with every single one of our allies.” the secretary
pulls out a handkerchief and wipes his forehead of sweat.

“With
Russia and China gone and the UN forcibly disbanded, the only forces we have
left are the ones who were far enough away from major cities to survive,” the
secretary of defense finishes.

“Those
who moved their forces fast enough anyway, they wouldn’t have made it in time
if blood wasn’t already spilt on our shores with the six flags incident,
reports
say that most of their soldiers were in ships on the
border of their seas waiting on the orders. May I remind you that we lost
contact with the rest of our nation as well,” the National Security advisor
reminds.

“It
still might not be enough. Any updates on our nuclear situation?” the vice
president asks. The president just watches them. He’s thinking of what to say,
he has to be the one to lead the world out of this. Until then he’ll watch them
squabble.

“Our
nukes and most of our satellites are disabled, the few we have left are being
used for military communication,” the secretary of defense says.

“We
still have those so called weapons or soldiers or whatever from the Astrons,”
the vice president replies.

“I
still can’t believe you’re considering siding with them after we got attacked
and are still getting attacked by their kind,” the secretary of defense says.

 “We
have no choice,” The President says, he finally had some input.

“Of
course we have a damned choice, we can take them out right here and right now!”
the secretary of defense yells. The president has said his piece, now to see
how the others will respond.

“We
have to side with one of them and I’d rather chose the one who aren’t trying to
fuck us,” the national security adviser says.

“We
already accepted their altered munitions, it’s too late to bring up your point
now, secretary,” the vice president says.

The
president turns toward the secretary of defense. “Alert our forces of our new
allies, give every
chosen
the rank of lieutenant colonel with the power
to command our units and tell them to not get in their way.”

The
secretary looks shocked.

“Ever
since yesterday this world has become a very different place, different for the
worse or maybe even for the better. Don’t let your prejudices hold you back,
for our neighbors aren’t just the ones who are closest to us now, secretary,
but are the ones in the stars above us. This is a new frontier,” the president
says.