Call of the Harbinger Read online

  Acknowledgements

  Thanks go out to Freddy, Elise, Livi, Jessie, and Sam, whose impressions helped to shape what this story would eventually become. And thanks to Ryan, for badgering me into doing this.

  CALL OF THE HARBINGER

  Copyright © 2016, by Allen White

  All rights reserved.

  Cover art by David A. Nova

  Photo of Allen White by Sean Mahoney

  Call of the Harbinger

  By Allen White

  He stretched his head up and craned his neck to get a good look at the sparsely clouded horizon. It was almost unbearable, but he couldn't look away. The vibrations echoed through his feet, sending pains through his old bones. The tremors were getting worse. It all felt so impossible; why the hell was he still standing there, why hadn't he fled for the caves like the rest? The heavens crackled and thundered; gigantic arcs of lightning jabbed out between pockets of storm clouds and struck at the surface of the earth, casting dust and volcanic rock towering into the heavens.

  Everything had fallen silent; the only sound he heard came from his panicked heart's rhythmic beat. He had a sudden urge to pray for the fate of his soul, for his family. He knew what came next. He covered his eyes, as a second sun seemed to ignite above the ocean and the Earth trembled beneath him. He cupped his ears and screamed, the shockwave hit and knocked him back into the tide.

  He felt water rushing over his hand, and looked down to see the tide fall farther and farther away from the beach, exposing the land that was hidden beneath. The oceans rose up from the East, and slowly created a gargantuan wall as far as his eye could see, blotting out the sun and its newly born sister. The ground stopped shaking, pebbles stopped dancing. Darkness fell upon the land like a blanket, and a hot rain began to shower him - soaking his clothes and burning his skin. The waters seemed as if they had reached higher than the greatest of mountains, towards the very throne of the gods itself. The calm didn't last; the towering wall of water began to shift toward him, toward the place that he and his family had called home through many generations.

  He cursed, and closed his eyes. This was it...

  "You're running out of time," Professor Lynn said.

  "What?" James Murphy blinked, shook his head, and looked around the empty classroom. "Where was I…?"

  "I was wondering the same."

  The sun's light caught his eye, reflecting off of the dust particles in the air like mini crepuscular rays. He stood up from his seat, and stared out through the windows that made up the outer wall. Good! It was all still there. His muscles relaxed, and the adrenaline ebbed. He thanked a god that didn't exist that the sun was still shining bright in the sky.

  "How long was I like that?" he asked.

  "Class ended ten minutes ago." Professor Lynn came out from behind her desk, walked across the front of the classroom until she was blocking the light from the windows, silhouetting herself. "James, you do realize that you're paying for these courses, right? If you keep falling asleep in the middle of my lectures, I'm going to be forced to flunk you. Is everything all right at home? You used to be such a good student..."

  He sighed, and slung his laptop bag over his shoulder. There was no reason to tell her, she'd probably just tell him he was too stressed out, or call him crazy.

  "Are you going to answer me?" Professor Lynn asked.

  "I don't think so," he said. "Today's not a good day."

  He turned toward the door, and forced his shaky legs to carry him into the hallway. He half expected her to try to stop him, but she didn't. Just as well. His mental stability wasn't anyone's damn business anyway.

  "And when did you first notice it?" Doctor Erickson asked.

  "Several weeks ago, actually," Doctor Reina said.

  "With all that time, what the hell have you people been doing?"

  Erickson turned around from the view screen and removed his glasses - that gesture that angry old men in the scientific community seemed to fall back on when they were too mad to form more than a single coherent sentence. She wasn't going to let him walk all over her like last time; he was probably just pissed that he didn't discover it first.

  "Okay, Doctor, how would you have done it?" Reina asked.

  "Don't give me that." He turned back to the window, and returned his glasses to his wrinkled face. "How should I be reacting to this? It's unprecedented. It's... a slap in the face."

  "We're not here to discuss how bruised your ego is." She crossed her arms, and sighed. "Save that for your therapist."

  The doors hissed open, and orange light cascaded across the window, blocking sight of the probe with a generous amount of glare. Reina turned to face the third member of their triumvirate; quite frankly, she should have noticed him aboard the research station sooner; he stood out like a sore thumb in that plaid suit. She watched him stop, pause at the sights outside the window, then glare at her.

  "You started without me?" Professor Braun asked.

  "In my defense, Erickson needed time to mend his bruised ego and absorb the sight," Reina said.

  Braun's slightly grayed eyebrows rose and fell. He shook his head, cackled, and jogged down the metal ramp that led up to the projector and information display.

  "What do we know about it?" Erickson asked softly.

  "Not much." She retrieved a metal briefcase from beneath her, and set it upon the glowing table. "I know about as much as you two, and a handful of rookie astronomers over at Astro-Dest."

  She popped the latches on the case, and scattered the documents inside across the table. Professor Braun made friends with a computer chair and propped his legs up on the table without any care as to how professional he looked.

  "I shouldn't need to remind you two that we're the only researchers who have been given clearance to view this material," Reina said. "As far as the government is concerned, this thing is a threat to national security. If anyone on the surface asks you about what we're doing, our official cover is that we're doing important research on Near Earth Objects. We're the only ones that will be dealing with the object directly; no one else even knows it exists. If any of you decide to go public with this information... well, let's just say that you'll probably need to find a new career path, best case scenario."

  "Yeah, I kind of expected that," Professor Braun said. "They'll suspect something eventually, though; information has a way of finding its way out. The better question, though, is it really a probe? And if so, where did it come from?"

  Reina stood and walked toward the window, eyeing the partially silhouetted object's golden, geometrically cut hull. It was roughly three times the size of an ordinary NASA satellite. It was surreal to be standing there, in orbit over the curvature of their glowing blue Earth, looking at something that might very well be from another civilization, another world.

  "The kids that discovered this thing think it's alien." She turned back to them. "To be honest, we have no idea what it is, or where it came from. That's why we're here, to get our hands dirty and crack the damn thing open. "

  "Alien." Erickson snorted. "Typical."

  "Yeah, at first glance," Reina said, "it does seem like something an amateur would assume. But we haven't really been able to find anything to tell us otherwise."

  "So, wait." Braun scratched his wrinkled, hairless head. "You're actually suggesting that it's from another planet?"

  "I'm not about to assume anything," Reina said. "But our current data does seem to suggest it."

  "Huh." Braun removed his feet from the top of the table, stood up, and slipped off his plaid coat. "Well, I've heard enough to sufficiently hook me. How about we get started?"

  Cloaked in darkness, Sister Mai emerged from her room. Her attendants quickly fetched her robe, a
nd covered her naked form. Her steps carried her forward into the library, where she’d have her morning coffee and feast. Light cascaded through the tinted windows, dimly illuminating the racks of ancient tomes on the far wall.

  She walked past the table, and looked out to the mountains and the fields beyond the perimeter of the warehouse.

  “Thank you,” Sister Mai said. “Thank you for showing me, Old-Ones.”

  “Then, the gods have answered your prayers?” her servant asked.

  “Yes,” Mai said. “I have seen the end of the world. It won’t be long now. Soon, we’ll have no need to hide anymore, my child.”

  A servant entered the library with a tray of food and coffee; she stopped and set it down on the wooden table behind Sister Mai. Mai turned and took her seat at the table, picking the coffee up and sniffing its bitter aroma.

  “Call for a sermon,” Mai said. “I wish to address everyone with the news.”

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  The servant bowed, and retreated from the room.

  James stared in the mirror at what seemed to him to be a very convincing likeness of prehistoric man. The dreams, more like premonitions, had shaken everything that he had considered real... science, nature, life... it was all just a jumbled mess of nothing now, a jigsaw puzzle made by an idiot savant. His beard was close enough to being a soup catcher now, and he wasn't sure if he even cared to shave it. He didn't exactly feel like he needed to impress anyone with his charming good looks.

  He turned for the door, turned off the light to the bathroom, bathing himself in the comfort of darkness again. The light from his computer screens lit his path back to his seat. He plopped in it, and stared at the clock until the digital green displayed the awaited time; his hands reached out, stabbed at the radio's on-button, then fell limp.

  The bags beneath his eyes grew heavier in the light from his monitor. The radio show would start soon, then his nightly routine could really begin. Right now, it was like the calm before the storm, except the storm only referred to him searching aimlessly through conspiracy theory forums for the one that would make it stop. The itching crept back into that place behind his eyes, and his hands slowly found their way up to the keyboard and mouse. He accessed the web browser.

  It was pretty pathetic, even to him, to not only be compelled to do such a thing night on end, but to actually succumb to the nagging need to know, basically, what every uneducated idiot in the world thought the government was hiding from them. From aliens, doomsday theories, men in black, to evil, weather-controlling secret organizations, and every combination in between, he simply couldn't stop himself from searching for something... that something felt real, felt important enough for him to forsake most of the things which used to seem important, and drive him. It’d been weeks since he’d stopped going to class, but it would be worth it if he could just find a hint as to what he was searching for. He’d do anything for that.

  "Welcome ladies and gents." The radio host's voice seemed to drag him back to reality. "To another night of ghosts, ghouls, aliens and other paranormal abnormalities. I'm your host, Art Wells."

  The host drudged through the introductions, not the most exciting part of the show... he really only listened for the random caller portion, the rest proved to be just enough to distract him from the itch, and the headaches.

  A ding sounded through his apartment. Coffee was done. He crept into the kitchen, turned on a lamp, and poured himself a cup. He had a feeling that tonight was going to be different.

  His phone rang, but he walked past it; the answering machine could handle business for the night.

  Piping hot coffee flashed through the pain receptors in his throat; he took his seat and began digging for the needle in the haystack.

  As usual, the first site had nothing but garbage to offer; a few rants on the current end of the world conspiracy flavor of the week, and several hundred having to do with hearsay UFO sightings. He frowned. The show continued on through its central topic, something halfway interesting about the Epic of Gilgamesh and how it tied in with other creation myth stories.

  He paused his hunt to check his email. Several thousand spam messages from various porn sites and pyramid schemes, a Nigerian prince claiming to have known his recently deceased rich-long-lost-grandfather... and one with the message title; IF YOU ARE A DREAMER - OPEN ME.

  It was probably a virus, or something worse... but he opened the email anyway, and began to scan through it;

  Greetings, Brother James.

  We were impressed at your thread on the ConspiracyInfo forums. It must have been difficult for you to entrust all of us with your personal information. We may be able to help you, Brother, and shed some light on the strange things that you are currently experiencing.

  If you are interested in getting your answers, simply reply to this message.

  -Sister Mai

  James rolled his eyes, and deleted the email without giving it another thought. Probably some nut-job, cult leader, or worse.

  "Yeah, Art, I was just calling in..." The caller groaned, and his phone crackled in and out. "Sorry... headaches..."

  Finally. James turned off the monitor and slouched his back in the soft foam of his chair.

  "What was your question, Adam?"

  "I... I've been having these dreams..." He paused, the scratching noises got more intense, and the hair on James' neck stood on end. "I'm risking things, lots of things, by doing this, they're probably listening."

  James' eyes rose up and locked onto the radio.

  "Go on," Art said.

  "Okay. I've been having these dreams about the end of the world. I know a lot of people say that kind of thing on here, but this is different. I've seen mountains of water cover the world, and kill us all, huge asteroids slam into the Earth, the shockwave kills everything in its path... I've even seen aliens come down from the sky and enslave us... they won't stop... and they all feel so real."

  "Continue..."

  "My friend at work, he says he's having the same dreams... he's even complaining about the same... symptoms..."

  "What symptoms?"

  "Headaches... itching. I called in because I have to know if there are other people out there like me."

  James stood up from his computer chair, his heart pounded through his chest.

  "What was that?" Art paused for several moments, Adam's side of the line continued to crackle. "...Adam, stay on the line, the lines are filling up with callers. You might have your answer."

  James reached for the phone.

  The tangles of blue and green light from the curvature of the Earth made working in space very disorienting. No matter how many times they tell you otherwise, you never really get used to the feeling, or the risk, Reina thought.

  She stopped herself and cut her space-suit's jets, feeling out a circular groove on the probe's surface with her fingers; she frowned when nothing happened. At least she knew that touching it didn't result in getting zapped, or any of the other violent things she had half-expected. She allowed herself a moment to admire its impressive size in comparison to herself. She threw caution to the wind, and pulled the trigger to activate her air-jets, propelling herself along the curved surface of the object, her hands pressed against its gleaming golden surface. Suddenly, the object pulsed, vibrated, and a large hexagonal port opened up right in front of her arms. She stopped herself with her jets, hovered before the new opening.

  "Hey, it started glowing!" Doctor Reina looked up from her port and through her visor. Pulsing green light stretched out like a living aurora from the probe's hull, and twisted up the exterior of her space-suit.

  "I can see that," Doctor Erickson said over the intercom. "You better get back inside the shuttle, who knows what kind of crap you're exposing yourself to."

  "Shut up and keep monitoring your data-feed, Erickson." She pushed off from the probe's hull and allowed herself to drift backward through space, engaging the air-jets to keep from drifting too far away from it. "Thi
s is exactly what we wanted, a reaction. Tell me what you're seeing!"

  "I don't get it..."

  "What don't you get?"

  "I was hoping for some form of radiation, or electromagnetic activity-" He cleared his throat. "But, I can't make out the shape of these waves at all."

  "I can't either," Professor Braun said. "But, they do look familiar."

  "Don't waste any time." Reina propelled herself forward, spinning around and catching a glimpse of Sirius before connecting with the object's hull again. "Hurry up and start digging for information on those wave patterns!"

  Her hands brushed up against golden metal, bracing her stop, and all at once, the light turned crimson.

  "Wait... something's happening again..."

  The port that had opened up was now inches from her face. She tried to look back... but it was like something was holding her head in place, drawing her in. The crimson light began to grow, spreading out like a hazy nebula, masking her body, and stretching out toward the shuttle.

  "Damn it, what the hell did you just do, Reina?" Erickson asked. “Your biometrics just bottomed out!”

  *****

  Reina was surrounded by a bubble of blinding red light. To her, it seemed to stretch on to the ends of existence. She tried to speak, but her lips seemed restricted, like someone was pressing in on them with a single finger.

  The nebulous cloud surged, violently, and her lips were freed from the pressure. She gasped for air. Light pulsed, and slowly, the nebula cleared. That's impossible! she thought. Her feet touched grass, and her knees fell to the ground in the sudden normal gravity. Lightly clouded blue skies stretched across her vision, with an unfamiliar ring of mountains all around her. Her eyes darted about the field she stood in, taking note of the massive shadow she was now standing in. She turned her head to see the golden probe floating next to and towering above her. A frown carved itself across the surface of her face.

  "Where am I?" She asked.

  The probe rotated, and faced her, almost as if it were staring right at her. She swallowed a lump in her throat, and hugged herself tightly.