Skyfire (32 page)

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Authors: Doug Vossen

BOOK: Skyfire
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              “What makes you so sure this has anything to do with my work?” Mahesh asked.

              “It has nothing to do with you specifically.  The appearance of this phenomenon is quite similar to the realm of perception one enters when traveling through The Veil.”

              “What is this veil?” asked Mahesh.

              “The Veil is what we call the underlying field you have postulated in your mathematical endeavors.  For generations, quantum physicists such as you have tried to reconcile the submicroscopic world with the enormity of the cosmos.  You, in particular, are moving along the correct intellectual trajectory.  Many others are missing the most fundamental of assumptions.”

              “Please elaborate.” 

             
I am appealing to his ego.  Excellent. I thought he would be too self-aware to display such narcissism.

              “As you know, Doctor Kapur, the most effective science is often the simplest.  People studying any universal theory of everything, as your community calls it, be it string theory or otherwise, often get bogged down in the complexity of continuously emerging dimensions that cannot be measured with your current technology and understanding of the laws of nature.  It is imperative that the terran scientific community realizes the ‘theory of everything’ is far simpler.   If left to your own devices, without the phenomenon above your financial district, you would likely come to the same conclusions we as Æthereans have come to over time.   I can fill in the blanks and we can work together as equals to ensure the survival of your race, your planet, and your work.” 
I must be careful not to appear condescending.  This is a fine line.  He is supremely intelligent, but he is also very arrogant, insecure, and seems to feel emasculated by his wife. 

             
“We can also offer you the opportunity to conduct complex experimentation, the likes of which you cannot imagine,” said Ronak.  “Consider the prospect of being able to experimentally validate your life’s work.”

              “I like what you are saying,” said Mahesh.  “I am extremely impressed, even giddy, that I am speaking to someone of another world.  I am even more excited by the prospect of working with such an advanced civilization. But I - ”

              “Mahesh!” said Dr. Kapur’s wife.

              “Aditi!  I give you immense leeway when assuming control of family matters.  This is a decision I need to make for us.  Do you doubt my judgment?  When have I ever let you down?”

              “Mahesh, we need to - ”

              “Enough, Aditi!  This is my life’s work!”

             
He holds his work paramount, even against his family.  I suppose true geniuses do.  It was the same with us before everyone was fully integrated.  This is the most interesting dynamic with which I have ever been involved!  Thank The Veil! 
“Dr. Kapur, I know the warriors outside are boorish and not up to your intellectual level,” said Ronak.  “I understand they seem to use force at every turn.  I also understand they devalue the lives of conscious beings to suit their needs.  In many ways, you are completely above them.  In other ways, they are people who exist so you CAN be above them.  Please recognize my level of awareness.  I want nothing more than for you and your species to continue existing.  My ulterior motive is to dismantle this problem before it spreads across the galaxy and beyond.”

              “OK, Legate Ronak.  Say I believe you and I recognize the value of utilizing such brutes to achieve our end state.  How do I know they won’t ruin everything for us?” asked Mahesh.

              “I have watched them, conversed with them, and analyzed them.  They are more of a benefit than a detriment.  Their top leader is pragmatic. You have not met him yet.  The one who spoke to you before me is the most talented warrior I’ve seen in a great deal of time, but he is also prone to immense emotional and psychological introspection.  When things get too intense, he turns to ethanol-based substances to numb his perception.  At times he is, as your wife would probably assess, a mess.”

              “This is the one that stank of whiskey?  I am Indian.  I know what Scotch smells like.”

              “I believe his method of numbing is something called Jameson, which is of your Ireland.”

              “Not MY Ireland, Legate Ronak.” Mahesh was a little taken aback.

              “Nationalism is irrelevant.  Grow out of it.  He is on a journey to reconcile who he is with what he did because he thought he had to.  It is the most interesting of paradigms.  He seems to be going through a process of figuring out how to employ his talents in the most ethical way he can.  Dare I say, I LIKE Captain Hughes.” 
This may stimulate his and his psychiatrist wife’s intellectual curiosity, but
I need to tread lightly.  As intelligent as he is, he is immature in many ways.  It is as if he has been sheltered from the way people interact for most of his life.

             
“What about his friend who tried to kill me?” Mahesh asked.

             
I sense the melodrama in this one.  I must think back to the academic personalities of my childhood, hundreds of years ago - that’s where they were mentally.  Tread lightly, Ron.  Interesting, I just thought of myself using nickname the terrans -  no, HUMANS - gave me.  Why am I warming up to them?  I am clearly very lonely.  I rarely spend time aboard RCV4.  When I do, I attempt to distance myself from all interaction. Irrelevant; this type of loneliness is a good thing.  It’s better than countless minds connected to me every moment of every day.

I hate what we’ve become.  I enjoy helping races who are not as advanced.  We like to think the rest of the galaxy views us as the shining example of what they SHOULD be.  I disagree.  We have traded all our freedom and privacy for safety, efficiency, and exponential scientific development.  I do not think the price was worth it.  I wish we could go back 600 years, to when we could have a conversation and not know the other person’s every thought.  I don’t care if I could’ve been swindled, hurt, or otherwise deceived.  It gave flavor to all the different regions of Æther.  It made me happy.  The whole thing seems like pointless nonsense now.  I am so glad I’m a Legate.  I may not have seen home in several hundred years, but at least I’ve had the opportunity to grow, learn, and not fall into Æther’s nonsense.  In another life, I may have counted myself amongst the heretics.

“The man who tried to force me into handcuffs?” asked Mahesh.

By The Veil, this mental silence is blissful.  Being alone with my thoughts is relaxing, even amidst this horror.

Mahesh nodded in Ronak’s direction, prodding him to respond.               
Right.  I cannot get lost in my emotions and thoughts during an operation. 
“Dr. Kapur, I understand his boorishness, bad behavior, and methods are not congruent with your family’s mentality.  I too have a family, and understand your point of view. 
This is the first time I have lied verbally in almost 300 years.
You and he share little in common.  For all intents and purposes, he is an animal who desires the next challenge.  Nothing in life matters to him except doing the hardest and most dangerous thing.  Whether this is good or bad, the result is the most aggressive human I have ever seen.  What I told his people before we came to get you is that he, in your language, is a hammer.  When you’re a hammer, everything else is a nail.  I am confident Captain Hughes will keep this man under control.”

“Fair enough,” said Mahesh.  “I’ve heard enough.  Aditi, we are moving with these people.  I think this is the best move for our family.”

“Mahesh! No!” said Aditi. 

“Cock-in-my-fucking-ass-mom!  Shut the fuck up!  D-d-docking uncircumcised penises on PornHub!   I c-c-c-c-can’t deal with you!  Stop it!  I don’t care if you tell rich white ladies on the Upper East Side to throw Xanax down their r-r-r-rich white throats!  Sh-sh-sh-shut the f-f-f-fuck up!  You’re the worst!  Obviously we need to do this!”  Rag resented his mother immensely.  She treated him like a problem she needed to contain within socially acceptable parameters.

“Legate Ronak, we want to work with you,” said Mahesh.  “Please tell your people you will be receiving visitors.  Also, please understand, I am bursting with questions about every aspect of this experience, as I am sure your people are as well.  I expect to be fully indulged when we get to a safer location.”

“Of course, doctor,” said Ronak.  “We will spend more than enough time ensuring we are all operating on the same universal assumptions and most up-to-date information.  You have my word.  Is this acceptable?” 

“It is, thank you.” 

He condescends toward those he perceives to be of lesser intellectual stature, and yet his work on what he calls universal consciousness has a central theme of equality.  He has quoted the importance of ego elimination for the sake of progress the past two and a half decades.  It is perfect irony.

“RCV4 Nexus, this is Legate Ronak.”

There was no response.

“RCV4 Nexus, this is Legate Ronak.”

Again, nothing.

“Dr. Kapur, both my local and non-local communication have been affected by the phenomenon.  However, we must continue as planned.”

“Fascinating! Are you alone right now?  Can you not even communicate with those who employ you?”  asked Kapur.

What is this?  Anxiety? How interesting!
“Communication is sporadic.  My vessel is positioned on the far side of the moon you call Europa.  Atmospheric interference based on the magnetic fields of the Jupiter’s storms cause occasional lapses in long distance verbal communication.  I have no doubt it will be resolved shortly. 
Lie number two.
  We need to proceed with the mission as discussed.  Please take ten minutes to gather any essential items you may need.  This does not include comfort items, just items pertinent to your work.  Everything else will be provided.” 
By The Veil, this is terrifying.  This is invigorating.

JACK

              “Jackie, we’re coming down,” said Karl.  “We got them.”

              “Great.  We’ll organize the exfil route.  Break. Green Dragon 1-3, Green Dragon 1-3, Warrior 2, over.”

              “Roger, Green Dragon,”  Chief Rudich replied.

              “How we looking out there?” said Jack.

              “Sir, there’s good news and bad news.”

              “Hit me.”

              “Well, the good news is that you shouldn’t have much of an issue exiting onto Central Park West.  All the - people, I guess - are still tearing each other apart like animals in the middle of the park, about two hundred meters from our initial LZ.  What’s even stranger is that all around them are little flashes of light with patterns similar to what’s hovering over the financial district.  It looks like popcorn.”

             
NOT good.  I have the worst feeling about this. 
“Roger that, 1-3.” 
We better try to run south as fast as possible and clear something resembling an LZ.  We have to cram as many motherfuckers in that bird as we can.  If it comes down to it, I’ll hang back.  I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if any of those people couldn’t get back to safety.  Even worse would be getting their hopes up and then dashing them at the last minute.  I’ve done that more times than I can count in third world shitholes.  It’s the worst feeling of helplessness.

              “Jack, so that’s that?  Main exit on the east side of the structure?” said Karl.

              “Affirmative.  We’ll move the casualties into the main hall and start clearing debris from one of the doors.  Keep us posted on your progress.”

             
I can’t stop thinking about what’s going on in the park.  Why are tiny flashes of fractal light patterns exploding all over the place like “popcorn?”  What the hell IS that thing hovering over downtown?  Every time I’ve tripped on DMT I saw similar patterns and interacted with what was either a hidden part of me or otherworldly beings.  I also know that just because you’re in a non-physical space, it doesn’t make what’s happening any less real.  Whatever’s there has intentions.  Clearly, if these are all the same things, then those intentions are bad, at least for us.  Who’s to say there’s not an infinite amount of fractal spiral beings that usually don’t exist in this dimension?  What if the patterns I saw are as different from the thing downtown as dogs are from humans?  What if we are ju-

             
“Hey dude, little help?”  Callie gestured to the unconscious older man on the ground with shit-laden pants.

              “Harrison, help her out,” said Jack.  “See if you can hoist that guy up in a fireman’s carry.  Callie can pull security to the rear.  Someone help me herd these kids while we’re moving.” 
Remember Iraq.  These are kids.  They pick up tone.  They don’t need to understand your language to know if they’re safe or about to die.  One of them even asked for water in English earlier.

              “You’re lucky I like you, sir,” said Harrison.  “This is fuckin’ disgusting, ya’ll.”  He was a great soldier; he always jumped on his tasks with minimal bitching.

              Jack intentionally kept his tone soft to keep the children as calm as possible.  He removed his helmet and placed his left hand on the shoulder of one of the boys.  “OK guys, I’m not sure if you understand me, but we’re leaving now.  Just follow me and it’ll all be OK very soon.”  He gestured for the children to stand.  With pointing gestures he positioned everyone in his desired order of movement. 
First me, then the kids, then Harrison and the dude, then Callie.  This is the best we can do with what we got. 

              “Where we going, sir?”

              “Back out to the main hall with the two big-ass dinosaurs.”

              “Hooah, sir.”  Harrison squatted and repositioned the casualty across his shoulders to make the carry more comfortable. 

             
What a good dude.  That man’s got to be digging into his shoulder.  He’s what, a buck-ninety?  Two hundred?

             
“Callie, if you don’t mind, just peek back behind us every few seconds so we don’t get surprised,” said Jack.

              “No problem, man.”

              “OK everyone, let’s move.” 

             
Keep it sharp.  Eyes up, head on a swivel.  They’re counting on YOU, Rugerman. 
Jack raised his carbine and flicked on his rail mounted tactical flashlight.  They exited the crooked hallway and went back into the North American Mammals exhibit.  Jack’s flashlight continued to reveal fresh horrors. 
This is some of the most horrific shit I’ve ever seen.  I forgot how much blood is in the human body. 

              “Oh god.”  Callie had stepped on a corpse without realizing it.  “Shit, I’m really sorry.” 

              “Don’t worry about it, Callie.  You didn’t see him - you did nothing wrong.  Just stay focused.  We’re almost at the entrance.  We’ll link up with everyone soon.” 
I’m not sure if I’m chilling her out or myself.

              “Thank you, Jack,” said Callie.  

              Weird, that’s the first time someone’s meant a thank you to me in forever.  Now I’m super uncomfortable.  Need to lighten the mood. 
“On a brighter note, these two kids are well on track to smashing performances as gunmen in the next big school shooting.”  

              “You know what they say, sir,” said Harrison.  “Abused people become abusers.  Why not with killing?”

              “That’s bullshit,” Callie snapped.

              “Guys, quiet the fuck down,” said Jack.  “If you need to talk, do it in a whisper.” 
Shit,  now I’m whisper-screaming. 

             
“Sir, you’re not whi-” 

              “I know,” Jack said.  “Shut up.”

              “What the hell?” Callie was confused.

              “Jackie, Karl.”  It was Karl over the radio.

              “What’s up?”  Jack responded. 

                            “Me, Sanjay Gupta, his awesome family, TRT Vitor Belfort, and the drunken fuckin’ master are coming back downstairs.  We’re down on 5.  NSTR (Nothing Significant to Report).”

              “Roger, keep us posted.  Break.  Green Dragon, how’s it looking out there in the park?”

             
Rudich came in slightly more broken over the net.  “Roger, uh, the exfil route is completely clear, but, uh, all the people under this thing’s control are in the middle of the park still going apeshit.  The crowd’s increasing by about 25% every five to ten minutes.  And the other stuff?  Yeah, from now on I’m just calling it popcorn because what the fuck?  Let’s just say it’s dark as shit right now, but you ain’t gonna need your taclights to see.”

              “Roger.” Jack kept his response simple; he was scared to death and didn’t want the others to know.

              “Sir, Major Rugerman, please hurry.  I don’t feel comfortable landing my bird down there, no matter what you do.  I mean, I will, but sir - this is going to be rough.  You can’t fight them.  We need to hurry.  I don’t know what that popcorn shit is, but more people isn’t a good thing.  Over.”

             
This one goddamn click of the mike has the power to inspire confidence in everyone during a life threatening event.  If you fuck this up, you WILL NOT live it down.  It doesn’t matter how much Harrison loves you.  It doesn’t matter how much you think you’re hitting it off with Callie.  It doesn’t matter how great of friends Trent and stupid Karl are.  Get ready.  Think before you speak. 
“Roger.  Survey possible LZs within a hundred meter radius of the museum.  Make sure you take note of the approximate distance and direction from the museum.  We don’t have GPS anymore, but we still have old-school lensatic compasses.  I don’t want to think twice about what fucking direction we need to go when we burst through that door.  We have six civilians, one of which is NOT ambulatory.  Obviously, you can’t prep for that now, but know we can’t sprint a mile to a safe spot. Over.”

              “Roger, we’ll make it work,” said Chief Rudich.  “At the end of the day, I got two 240B machine guns and a goddamn flying machine.”

             
I like this guy.
  “Roger.”

              “Third floor, guys,” said Karl.  “At the main stairwell, going down now.  Over.”

              “Roger.”  Jack had a feeling few people would understand.  He had learned how to interpret speech and tone over radio transmissions.  It was an important skill in war.  A lack of clear, instantaneous communication can destroy the most technologically advanced army.  Jack had lived through moments when a simple “uh” or word stumble would have caused everyone involved to call bullshit on his entire career. 

              “So they’re close, right?”  Callie looked distraught.             

              “They’ll be here really soon,” said Jack.  “Let’s keep moving.  We can’t stop.”  He carefully scanned the carnage with his tac-light, not wanting the children to see the pile of bodies on the near side of the dinosaur skeletons.  He skirted left, keeping his rifle and eyes up.  He wrapped the group slowly around the north stairwell, into the edge of the impressive lobby.  The light was significantly brighter now as it shone through the windows built into the arched walls lining the vaulted ceiling.

“Sir, look over there!”  Harrison pointed toward the stairwell diagonal from the group, by the main entrance. 

Ronak’s sphere swooped around the wall at the top of the southern stairwell, followed closely by the group of ten returning from the upper floors. 

Now all we have to do is figure out how to stuff ten pounds of shit into a five pound bag.  Five extra people IS a tall order.  Make your buddy smile, I guess.  We need about thirty uninterrupted seconds to cram everyone into this clown-car of a Blackhawk.  Shit.  Better start clearing away the entrance.

“Well everyone, shall we?”  Trent gestured to the debris blocking the main entrance. 

“Let’s do this,” said Karl.

“Green Dragon 1-3, Warrior 2,” said Jack.

“Green Dragon.”

“How we looking?  We’re almost ready to make our exit.”

“Roger, we got the mosh pit with the popcorn getting bigger by the minute.  I can’t tell what’s going on down there.  Whatever it is, it’s not good.”

“Chief, you said they’re in the middle of the park.  I need two pieces of information.  Where are they specifically, and where does it make sense for you to land?”

“Split the difference between Central Park West and 5
th
Avenue and go about three hundred meters south of the 85
th
Street Transverse,” said Chief Rudich.  “The orgy of violence is smack dab there.  Holy shit.  Wait one.”

That sounded like pure fear.  I need to slow down.  I want nothing more than to poke at him to see what’s going on.  But if I’ve learned ONE thing, it’s to let people develop the situation. 
“Roger, standing by.” 
This is excruciating.

“OK, I took a low pass.  It’s tough to see, but they’re not just ripping each other apart.  They’re combining.” 

Jack couldn’t believe what he was hearing.  “Chief, what the FUCK do you mean ‘combining?’”

“Sir, I don’t know. This is fucked up.  Everything seems to be moving and still at the same time, and vibrating incredibly fast.  Break.  I see people with body parts in the wrong places.  Some of these things are taller than my house at Fort Drum and almost as wide as my garage!  Your best bet for an LZ is one-hundred and fifty meters dead east of the intersection of 71
st
Street and Central Park West.  It’s good because that lake with the boathouse will give bad buys a hard time maneuvering around.  These people are lightning fast, but it’ll buy us crucial seconds to board the aircraft and bug out.”

“Roger.  How’s the street on Central Park West?  Can we haul ass down it?”

There was a pause. 

Fuck, do I HATE waiting for information…

“Karl, how many hand frags you got?”  asked Trent.

“Four,”  Karl responded.

“Gimme two.”

“Fuck, Hughes.  OK, no problem.”  Karl knew it made sense to evenly distribute the most casualty-producing weapons.

Rudich came back over the radio.  “If you get the fuck out NOW you can use it.  You need to move!” 

Jack turned to the group.  “You heard the man - move this shit! Make sure you’re reloaded and get your fucking guns hot!  Time to earn that grossly substandard paycheck, people!”

“Fuck yeah, Jackie!  Love it when you get like this!”  Karl was giddy. 

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