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	C by J. Masseyã1999 T here are strange and prolific moments of obscene silence that accompany events of apocryphal chaos and violence it seems. As though evil itself needed to take a breather from its relentless assault upon Creation's order, the calm in the eye of the hurricane was upon us. It was then that we saw what first appeared to us as a miraculous vision, as if the finger of God had brought pause to the calamitous suffering which is our struggle to survive. With the smell of burning flesh upon the windless air, the bluish-gold flames of protease reactor fires burst into the amber-red and black sky. Framed by this vision of immense tragedy was the child, just standing amongst the chaos, appearing as if sculpted by Rodin or painted by DaVinci. A tearless, oddly blank expression stroked upon his face. Fear no more the heat of the sun. I knew not why that line from Virginia Woolf's Mrs.Dalloway came to me nor the reason I felt a bitter chill run up my spine as the eyes of that kid met mine. Cold Baby, bold baby, now your just an old baby. Daddy always told me that when I misbehaved or refused church. "Nivanna, snap out of it. I don't know how long the dome will hold. Grab the kid and lets get the hell out," screamed Lt. Rike as he moved towards the emergency ventilation shafts. As another ground shaking explosion ripped through what was once a thriving colonial outpost, I gathered up the kid into my arms and followed the Alpha sector's search team out of the dying village, pausing at the base of Pompei colony's crater-edge to witness the last moments that monument of our colonization represented before us. With the distant sounds of imploding plexi-steel structures, crumbling amidst the plasma fires, coming across the transmitter inside my pressure suit, I could almost hear the screams of a hundred dead men, women and children. They seemed to cry out for mercy, as if we could still save them. They seemed to decry the shame of their plight, the futility of their sacrifice. But, most of all, they seemed to warn we who still live not to repeat their pathway to destruction. What else could the dead leave for the living? Only the curiosity of dying itself. Only our feeble speculations that feed our fear. My fear...of ghosts who haunt the sanity of reason, and the safety of knowledge. The Martian sky, ancient and alien, took unto its crimson bosom the soul of this dying colony, as the distant light of the setting sun gave way to the blackened darkness of space and the reddened glow of Phoebos, one of the two Martian moons. I stared quietly at the moon's reflected light as it was cast off of the protective visor that shielded the child's face, who remained in my arms, encased within the medical pod we'd placed him. His dead, lifeless eyes seemed aglow with an alien awareness refracted, reflected and framed by the moon of Mars which I saw pictured upon his visor. This child, who was the sole survivor of some unknown cataclysm befalling Pompei colony, was also the sole witness to an improbable destruction and impossible survival. Yet, he couldn't respond to our questions and appeared catatonic, at best. So, the myriad of unanswered queries remained as such for now. Until we arrived back at Alpha colony, the fate of the child's family, friends and neighbors would be a dark mystery. But as I climbed aboard the sandglider for the trip back to base, I couldn't help thinking that something about this child's survival was wrong...very wrong and deeply black. It was no coincidence that the archeological digs into the ruins discovered under Pompei's crater had evoked both strong protest from many of the veteran Old Faither's, who survived the original Martian Colony Insurrection War, and an equally powerful support from followers of the Magi, a mostly younger group of colony born and technology-crazed scientists who insisted that Mars once was the origin of our ancestors on Earth. Both groups were stunned when the 3 Orbs of Pompei were discovered. The same three orbs found inside the pouch carried by the child-survivor. Months passed as I returned to my duties performing Community-A psycho-historical investigative research and seminars of non-revisionist Earth history. Caring for Champ and Hal,Jr. always relieved the hauntings I suffered during the endless nights when past ghosts revisited my dreams...my memories. So, it amazed me to no end when I recieved the notice from Lt. Rike that requested my presence during the first known Alpha Prime Response call. Only the most dire circumstance imaginable would have induced APR. Only a situation involving the survival of human life on this planet would suffice. Only a threat from Old Earth could cause it. But why call me? Nivanna Tyler-David, get a grip on yourself, dammit. Why do I feel so cold now? Why do I see that child's face, his dead eyes? And why am I afraid when I hear your voice within my mind Hal? I loved you and watched you die, just like when I saw Daddy die. You died for me and for us all. I don't want to be a martyr too. Damn, it aint fair. I won't go...I can't do this again. THE THREAT was supposed to be over forever, wasn't it? å "What' wrong with you today? You look like someone walked across your grave and you just saw a ghost," said Hal, Jr. with that look of curious concern, which always reminded me of his father. It was a look that made me squirm. It made me remember the specter of death hovering over my family like a biblical swarm of locusts over Egypt. "Nothing for you to worry about kid. I've got to go over to the chancellor's office for a meeting about the Pompei disaster," I said while grabbing my outer jacket from the closet. "I'll be back in a few so keep an eye on Champ." "Are you getting yourself involved in that mess again? I thought you were through with that detective stuff for good this time," he said as he gritted his teeth. "After all we've been through back on Old Earth, I'm in no mood to play the gumshoe role, so lighten up and relax. See you in a minute Kiddo'." I wasn't so sure Hal bought the snow job but it was all I could muster. My queasy gut gave me away and he could probably tell I lied a little. As scared as I felt, there was that familiar rush of adrenaline, which came along with the scent of danger headed my way. I love it. May God have mercy on me but I do. It must be over five years since I turned in my badge back in Old Chicago. Hell, after the 'Six-Pack Murders' and the deaths of Jack and Hal's dad during the Lazarus Catastrophe, I'm lucky to be alive and sane. We're all lucky, even though The Disaster tore human society in half and forever separated our species into Terran and Martian factions. For the rest of eternity the faithful and faithless among us will be opposed, even to the death. Somehow, I felt uncomfortable with being the widow of the man who saved existence itself with an act of ultimate faith. It made me question the nature of my own beliefs. Beliefs I never allowed to get in my way as a cop or private dick. Life was hard and I was as hard as it wanted to get with me. Still, I feel empty inside when things make me remember Hal. Bein' hard now only keeps my mask on tight. I need some action like a diver needs an anvil. Lt. Rike, who had been promoted to Commodore after Pompei fell, met me as I pulled up my hovercraft to the quansett hut that doubled as Alpha's city hall. He was a striking-looking man of 72 who, thanks to bio-engineered prosthetics and gene therapy, didn't look a day over 40. I knew he gave thanks every day for the technology, which most Old Earthers still worshipped as New Religion. The heresy of Library and the Null-Space Continuum didn't seem to phase him or them one bit. But today, his bushy grey eyebrows furrowed along his face with a deep intensity which made his lanky, 6 foot frame coil like a cobra defending it's lair. "Glad you could make it Nirvanaa. Let's get inside and meet the team," he said with a resonance that reminded me of those old tapes of TV news anchors. I often studied them during my research of how Old Earthers revised historical records for propaganda reasons after the government began to dispose of individual rights near the beginning of the 21st century. Inside, the conference room possessed the atmosphere of a solemn tomb. I took a seat near the door and kept a position allowing me a line of sight for both the room's occupants and the doorway. I guess its an old cop's habit I can't shake. Rike stood at the podium and spoke with that commanding tone which military types always did when things were about to get a little ugly. I could feel sweat beading up on my forehead, but why? "What I am about to reveal will never leave this room. Those of you already in the know will have to bear with the others who are here for the first time. While most of you had some kind of professional or technical life in the past on Earth or here on Mars, some of those present do not," Rike said while staring directly at me. I could almost taste the snobbish sneer dangling at the corners of his pencil-thin moustache. I didn't like it. "I've learned from the archeological team studying the Orbs of Pompei, which were found along with the young boy who survived the colony's mysterious disaster, that the strange etchings embossed on the stones are not from some ancient alien race native to Mars. They are a form of advanced mathematical language involving unknown sets of physical constants which can translate into linguistic derivations we can understand." "What do they say exactly," said Dr. Drago as he sat in front of me. He was the last surviving member of the first astronauts to set foot on the red planet. "In short, they tell us that Earth was the last refuge for the only surviving members of a race of superior beings who destroyed all life on their home planet. This was that planet and we are the children of those beings. Their crime was so great that the galactic community of which they belonged banned all and any contact with their race for eternity. Violation of this edict insures utter destruction of this and any other civilizations involved. The translation approximately states that God as our race has perceived Him has gone away and we shall never be returned to His presence again. It also has the etchings of a humanoid face embedded within its code along with a name. That name is yours Nirvanaa." "And the face..." "It is that of the boy from Pompei." Like the emptiness of an explosion in the black vacuum of space, the roar of stunned silence descended upon us as we listened to Rike's words. We listened but didn't quite hear because only the sadness of his word's meaning had any weight. Did this mean salvation for the human race was a hoax? Was the epitaph for humanity's dream's to be written in the crimson ink of self-destructive futility? If this was a kind of cosmic prophecy, could anything or anyone change our fate? Suddenly, I remembered watching my drunken cop-father, Jack, beating the hell out of momma when I was only 8. I remembered hearing the low thud of his heavy footsteps approaching my door as I hid under the bed. Like rolling grey thunderclouds, flashes of lightening shooting all about, I could see the drunken violence of my own gang-banger days, the murderous and homeless nights sleeping in my cardboard, alleyway castle. The rain-soaked body of Dropsy-Doug, my only friend, crumpled to the ground as flashes of light reflected off the cold steel of the bayonett's blade, which stuck out of his chest. The rape parties, with me as guest of honor, thrown by the Iranian Republican Guard, after I was captured in the Gulf War. The face of Lilith Blue, modern-day 'Whore of Babylon,' appeared before me as the telepathic dream incursions she induced within my mind had changed me forever, robbing me of compassion, stealing away my capacity to love. It cost me my job with Chicago Police, my Hal and eventually almost cost the lives of all. "I don't want any more of it. I can't become responsible any longer. I refuse to care about what happens." Rike said, "Just like you, Nirvanaa. Always trying to hide from your fate, your duty. You people always shirk the call to glory, honor and courage." "You callin' me a coward, you spineless punk," I yelled."I've killed men as they begged for their lives. I've sliced the throats of people like you for saying less then that. And with all the men, women and children I was ordered to kill, I never once showed mercy." "Then don't turn cold on us now," said Rike. "We need you." "I ain't in this mess. I don't care what's gonna' happen. I'm as close to happy as I'm gonna get. So just leave this 'Cold Baby' out of it.Damn the prophecy, I'm going home." Before I could open the door, Dr. Drago grabbed my arm and said "Then, you don't know about the radiation." "What?" "Since you rescued the kid from Pompei Colony, we've analyzed both he and the orbs found with him." "What did you find?" "We found a unique electromagnetic emission pattern eminating from the orbs. The boy is now showing those same radiation patterns." "Tell her the rest Dr. Drago," Rike persuaded. "Our sensor array, here at Alpha Colony, record only one other source of this radiation. It comes from you." I slumped into my seat like an old and wet overcoat cast to the floor. "The radioactivity level is similar to that which Dr. Nogachi released during his infamous Null-Space experiments. Literally, it is bending the fabric of time and space. The central foci of the effect seems to be in the vicinity of Phoebes." My stomach squeezed up into a knot as my mouth went as dry as red sand on a Martian desert. It all sounded a bit too familiar as I began to view the conference room as if through a glass and darkly once more. "Oh no, not Dr. Nogachi and his damned project. Blast it to hell, I thought all that was finished," I said. "The effect is bending, no, creating a hole in our universe," said Dr. Drago. "The door your husband gave his life to shut for all time may be opening once more into another place. A point of entry for which we have been forbidden to pass." "Nirvanaa, we need your skills of detection to locate the source of transmission on Phoebes and destroy both it, the boy, and the orbs. Mankind must never know what we have found," said Rike. "No matter how you fell, You are now involved up to you're pretty little neck." "So that's it. You want me to be your hired assassin and expendable trouble-shooter. Go to hell." I was interrupted by the buzz of the comvisor behind Lt. Rike. As Rike answered, I shuddered. "Attention all of you," said Rike."That was the med lab. The boy from Pompei is missing." At that moment, my pager vibrated wildly and revealed this message. "Mom come home now. Champ is gone..." Dr. Drago, who was conferring with the other members of the group, became as white as a sheet. Then, as if declaring the impossible, he said to all of us "The Mars space observatory on Phoebes is reporting that the constellation Orion is dimming out. In fact, the luminosity of all nearby stars is decreasing, including the sun. Our universe is blinking out of existence."

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