A Depraved Blessing by D.C. Clemens - HTML preview

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Chapter Three

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Today rotated to tomorrow. The world’s fascination and focus was now directed to the object in the crater. The struggle in Dorvale became a distant concern in everyone’s minds. All spellbound eyes were watching the flood of new pictures and video coming in as the dust continued to vacate the region by order of the strengthening daylight and winds. Helicopters were swarming the mountain that was now integrated into my memory to every last perceptible pebble. Its visitor, which seemed to have turned darker each time I looked at it, never left the screen, allowing for more extensive analysis. The base of the structure was about a quarter wider than its ceiling and was raised from the crater’s floor at a slight angle, but the deceptively small ascent was enough to create a space of about six hundred feet between the body and the ground at its presumed stern. Its walls inclined upward from the base and formed a flattened plateau on top to make the roof. The mysterious vessel reached about one-fifth up the mountain, giving me a good idea of the structure’s true stature. Most mountains in the Gears Range were known to touch the clouds, and this one in particular reigned over them all, indicating that the object’s height would dwarf all but the tallest buildings in the world. 

Despite fragments of the mountain masking a good portion of the foreign craft, unveiling themselves were a few shallow cracks flowing across the otherwise sleek, uniform surface. How it was left with only those few scars, or how it could have survived a collision that intense at all, no one could fathom. Most agreed that the energy expended from the impact—which experts had equated to several times the detonation of several nuclear weapons of the largest yield—should have vaporized any known material, or at least have destroyed it to the extent that there would be little to salvage. Even with the scarring, the interior remained a secret to everyone. There were no windows of any kind or cavities to speak of to disclose any hint of the inside. Another detail I could not disregard was the lack of a visible engine. There was nothing giving the impression of a propulsion mechanism, or any trace of how it could have drifted through space, if that’s allegedly what it was designed to do. The engine, or engines, I hypothesized, could have been concealed where it was buried, hidden inside of it, or may have not needed one at all.

None of these speculative observations helped to release my thoughts from the unrelenting questions: Why did it crash? Where was it going? Was anyone alive inside? What would they do if they were? I naturally became frustrated by it. I was beginning to think that none of it was fair. Today was supposed to be the world’s first day for healing.

Another inquest breached my mind, however, this one came via Lizeth, who asked, “What’s going to happen?”

I subconsciously thanked her for taking me out of my stupor. “I’m sure everyone is thinking the same thing,” I mechanically replied to her, for I was still only half myself. I felt her devoted hand over my arm and she gently squeezed it, but even so, I could hardly feel her slim fingers on my skin. My entire body felt numb. I felt a need for her to crush my arm somehow, so then maybe I could feel something. 

This was not something that was supposed to happen to me. As a biologist I thought I was prepared for an occurrence like this. Out of the billions of planets in our galaxy alone and the innumerable galaxies beyond that, it had always made sense for me to envision that some type of life existed outside our solar neighborhood. There would therefore be some type of life that would, in due course, become articulate and practical enough to develop technology that might be more advanced than our own. But seeing the spacecraft from another existence resting within the crater somewhere on my world made my blood run cold until it felt as though my entire body was experiencing brain freeze. The last time I must have felt this unsure of myself was when I exited the womb. Everything was reintroduced to me; reset. All facts were now buried in a previous age.

This was not me. It never was. I remembered the time when, just weeks before receiving my driver’s license, my mother and I were involved in a vicious car accident. The clouds had uncharacteristically lost control of the rain that evening, making my mother lose hers. The car flipped over anywhere between one to a hundred times; feeling more like the latter. It sent each of us to the hospital and she had to remain there for over a month. Three weeks after her release, I received my driver’s license with avid expectations. It was as though the accident had never happened. My youthful spirit had wholly possessed me, freeing the terrible event from my mind. I had seized the freedom given to me instead of fearing what it could bring.

Currently, it was the complete opposite. The feeling of dismay conquered all of me, and each of the possibilities and opportunities I thought my scientific mind would grasp were entirely deficient. I could now sympathize with an animal that had watched a fellow creature get shot down by a peculiar hunter with an otherworldly weapon. In any case, notwithstanding my building anxiety and tension, I knew I must do my utmost to not express it. Not in front of Lizeth or Dayce. I forced myself to keep sane for them. Their safety was all that mattered to me now. For the first time in my life, I understood that my higher thinking must be set aside and allow pure instinct to lead me through. 

Somewhat less than an hour after the world first set eyes on the craft that violently skidded from the sky, the military imposed a two mile quarantine zone and no-fly sector around the mountain it now called home. Once the military attained control, so ended the flow of new images. All the same, I didn’t feel there was a need for anymore, for there was no escaping those already circulating throughout the globe in every possible media form. Every television channel, active website, all radio stations, and messages on my phone from friends and colleagues gave testimonies of its overriding presence. Sleep escaped us. The hours went on and we continued to watch unceasingly, even if we both knew nothing new was going to be waiting for us. No professional could enlighten us and no specialist alive or dead could clarify what we were all seeing and experiencing.

What sign it symbolized or what omen was approaching depended on who was speaking. Some saw it as a religious test or even as a gift from any number of higher forces, divine or otherwise. Others foretold that the end of the world was imminent, but the general consensus did not differ from my own; watch and wait. Despite the fact a shadow was now cast above all nations, panic did not become the mutual sentiment. The occasional law did have to be reinforced across the lands, but the small upheavals were mere opportunists taking advantage of the frightened.

Dawn divulged itself in the form of small streams of light peeking through the window drapes. I thought of how much had changed since our last morning, as well as how much I had already altered. As I relived yesterday’s journey, I suddenly recalled the advice I gave to my students and how little I listened to my own recommendation. I convinced Lizeth that buying supplies sooner rather than later would be the best course of action to take in this unanticipated situation. I was envisioning the grocery stores with never ending lines that curved around the block, only to find nothing on the shelves inside after hours of waiting. Even if Lizeth had not agreed with me, there was not much she could have said to hinder our separation, since I was hastily getting dressed during my proposal and was out the door before she could give her full consent. I really just needed to do something, anything to get my blood flowing again.

I thought I might be early, but the nearest marketplace was already filled to capacity, leaving me surprised how the little cubed building did not burst by the overflow. It was not a simple local grocery store anymore; it acted more like an emergency relief center. I saw a woman start to cry when she discovered that there were no pastries left. Another man was shouting at a young clerk for the low stock of canned goods. Her composure held up well until her supervisor arrived and liberated her. Besides a few more incidents, much was quiet in the expedition. I did not contrast from most. I grabbed anything that looked useful and even some things that did not, learning to snatch up what I could before an extra blink made it vanish. Hums of whispers reverberated in the condensed air. Never before had I beheld this large a group swollen with such a soundless sense of apprehension. I doubted the atmosphere would have been any different if I was to be transported to the eve of a great battle.

Regardless of the upturned world, the sun and moons appeared and disappeared daily, blissfully having no notion of the events below them. In spite of the observable evidence that time was indeed passing, our sphere seemed to come to a standstill. Needless to say, Dayce and I could not go to the shockball game. Schools had empty chairs in each classroom, including my own, which I canceled for the rest of the week. Jobs did not appear as important as they once were. Offices and desks not considered crucial to the sustainment of a nation lied uninhabited. Lizeth even managed to convince her boss, the merciless, for a few days leave, and aside from a handful of choice words coming from his side, he did relent in the end. To be fair, he exercised his artful language on everyone and on any occasion. I had good reason to believe he garnered great pride in coming up with curses no one had ever thought of saying before. 

The bonus time at home meant more time with Dayce and the unremitting questions that came out of him. Every few hours he would meet me and ask the same questions in an ever unchanging cycle, wondering if anything new had occurred since the few hours before.

“Are they going to eat us, Daddy? Are they tall or tiny? Do you think we’ll be able to fly in the spaceship someday?”

Regardless of remaining unenlightened to most of his inquiries, he never did appear ill at ease. I knew it was his appreciation for blockbuster movies that was the source of his composure. Like many young boys, he learned far too much of his history, fictional or otherwise, through movies, including all of his knowledge regarding alien lifeforms. I was only thankful that most of them had us as the victors. If Dayce could truly comprehend the precipice our race was facing, I was positive he would dwell in a state of complete terror, undoubtedly burying himself under his bed lest our potential masters should appear before him. I grew to envy his ignorance. It was challenging for me to enjoy the idea of their impending effect on the world. No matter who ended up in control of the vast technological forces that manufactured the alien craft, everything was about to undergo a revolution, for better or worse.