Absolution

Andrew Kishonis

“Why do you need me, sir?” Harrison asked the corporal. “I’m not the only physicist on the team, and I’m swamped as it is.”

“They don’t know who else to send for, Mr. Harrison,” said the corporal. “Frankly, they don’t know who could help at all. I was ordered to escort you directly to our camp, and we’re to set off immediately, so please, follow me.”

“No, sir, before I go anywhere, I need to know – ”

“I’m not authorized to disclose any details, but it’s huge. And you might well help us with this crisis.”

Harrison squinted his eyes in disbelief, but direct orders could not be helped. His colleagues had to continue exploring the site on their own; no questions asked, not when the army and potentially other agencies were involved. Harrison picked up the khaki jacket with his IDs in the pockets, packed his suitcase, and the corporal led him to a military off-roader parked just outside.

“A heli took me here, and I thought we were far away in the desert,” Harrison wondered aloud.

“We are, Mr. Harrison. New regulations: no aircraft in the area.”

“Are you allowed to talk about that?”

“I haven’t heard much.” The corporal took the driver’s seat, Harrison sat next to him. “They called it a – what was the word? Distorted kinetic field or something. I don’t know what that means.” He started the car and pulled out.

“That doesn’t make sense!” Harrison snorted and laughed.

“Nothing really does, if you ask me.” The corporal’s gaze fixed on the road.

Soon, nothing but muddy clouds and vast lands surrounded them. The oddly blue, decomposed houses were left behind. The off-roader zoomed down the dusty path, sending gravel flying through the air, bumping over the occasional outcropping. Devoid of vegetation, this grey desert seemed to freeze in time, waiting for someone else to discover it and cultivate it, but no one ever did. It stretched towards steep, rocky mountains Harrison watched through the window, ruminating over the past couple of days he’d been working almost without sleep.

 “How long have you been stationed here, sir?” Harrison asked the corporal.

“About a week. They deployed me fast. I first helped with the evacuation routes, keeping things in order and all that.”

“The press know nothing, do they?”

“Of course not! Would be hell on earth had they sneaked anything out. Hell, we ourselves know shit about what’s going on!”

“Good…”

A military convoy slowly drove by in the opposite direction – the corporal radioed his superiors, and the car made it onto an asphalt road walled by tall posts connecting multiple wires spread all over. Harrison looked at them with suspicion as he heard them buzzing. A dead animal was hanging in there, stuck, still smoking. The wires were electrified and would fry anything that touched them.

“What are these barriers for?” Harrison was genuinely surprised to see such protective structures.

“If only they told me.” The corporal never lost his serious expression. “Put most of them up yesterday. Said there were less accidents in the zone with them power lines. Crazy stuff.”

Harrison nodded in agreement. There were more outposts down the road, and a couple of barriers to pass through – both men showed their IDs, and the chain-link gates were opened sideways. The car slowly drove onward to its destination. Harrison had never seen so many restrictive measures despite his experience with the military: something truly serious was afoot and the government must have been fully involved at that point.

Camouflage tents surrounded an extensive three-storey office building, with two more lower ones adjacent to it on both sides. The power lines covered the entire area, not even a bird could make it through; manned generators hummed here and there, and quite a few armed soldiers were patrolling the area. A pair of white-coated scientists with a seemingly high-ranking officer were waiting where the off-roader pulled over.

“Welcome to the emergency HQ, Mr. Harrison!” The officer came forward. “I’m Colonel Adams, I’m in charge of the local operation here. Have they briefed you?”

Harrison glanced back at the corporal:

“No, not really.”

“Never mind, things have been rather chaotic round here, if I’m completely honest with you, sir. These are your colleagues, Dr Flowers and Dr Keats. Please, this way.” Adams headed to the main building. The white coats followed him.  

“So, what’s this ‘huge’ thing about?”

“I’m afraid not a single English word will do it justice, Mr. Harrison.” Adams led the way down the corridor packed with more military personnel. “And the fact that we have caught it makes me question my very sanity.”

“‘Caught’ it?”

“Exactly. It was sighted not far from the farm the first call came from. Apparently, it got stuck in the power lines – shocked I’m guessing. That’s how we saw it in the first place.”

“Can you drop this pronoun game, and tell me what ‘it’ is, Colonel?” Harrison nearly shook in anger.

“Better show you. Trust me, this is serious.” He stopped at a highly secured door, typed some code on the terminal then tapped his ID card on the screen. It gave a characteristic beep and the door opened.

Harrison entered first: there was a large glass window with plenty of electronic equipment placed against the wall under it. The room didn’t look any different from others, but there was another one, on the other side, behind the glass, and it was left in complete darkness. One of Harrison’s new colleagues turned on the light in there. That room appeared even smaller, it had only one door with the same smart lock to the research room: no other windows, and it was perfectly sealed from the rest of the building, and the electrified wires were put up in a square shape, like a symmetrical spiderweb making sure whatever stayed inside would never make it outside. There was nobody in there.

“Am I supposed to see something?” Harrison shrugged.

“You will now,” said Adams. He switched off the lights in the other room, and turned on the UV light projectors instead. In purple beams there was a moving figure floating up without touching the floor: faceless, but with the body that of a human, emanating pale smoke, and long, thin hair waved in the air.

“Jesus Christ! What is that?” Harrison backed away from the glass, shivering.

“That, Mr. Harrison, is the right question. And that is why I have had you brought here.” Adams looked at him, eyes scared. “We know nothing about this thing, but we have good reasons to believe they are at least partly responsible for this mess.”

“There’s more?”

“Most certainly. They are probably spread out around the area, and by the grace of God we discovered at least one of their weaknesses. So we had our HQ all secured up and so is the entire perimeter of this desert. We don’t want any of these things to escape into cities! If but a word gets out, we’re done! It’s not going to be Washington, but the entire world on our asses: doomsday freaks will multiply by thousands, and this will be the end as we know it! Do you understand this, Mr. Harrison?”

“Yes, sir.” Harrison failed to divert his eyes from the mysterious figure.

“And thanks to this one.” Adams pointed at the trapped spectre. “We also updated our radars: our computers should be able to detect them at least a mile off.”

“Wait, sir, if they are the ones who killed so many already and just – melted cars and houses to ashes, and they’re at large, oh, God! My team, sir! They’re out there, and they don’t have any of those barriers!”

“That’s not your concern, Mr. Harrison. The security is our responsibility alone. You are here now, and I want you to figure out precisely what this spectre phenomenon is! I hope we’re clear, and report directly to me when you get something. Dr Flowers and Dr Keats will give you a rundown on the details.”

Colonel Adams marched out of the research room. There was a momentary silence, a break for post-reflection Harrison could use, but his real work just began.

“Alright, gentlemen.” Feeling cold creeping under his skin, he walked up closer to the window to get a better look at the spectre. “You heard the boss. What do we know about them?”

Dr Keats booted their computer tech, navigating through a bunch of additional menus on the screens, he started his summary in a monotonous voice:

“They seem to consist of a certain kind of plasma we have only partly broken down in our labs – the rest is still being processed as we speak. Besides what you were just told, we don’t know what else they react to – or are sensitive to in any way.”

“How do they manage to dissolve concrete structures and kill living things, assuming it’s their work, of course?”

“Unfortunately, we aren’t entirely sure. The tests we have already conducted revealed abnormal levels of acidic components, to put it briefly.” Dr Keats was typing and glancing through his logs.

“I see you haven’t been wasting your time. I will need all the data you have gathered. Have you carried out any physical tests yet? Have you managed to establish any form of communication?” Harrison sat down at the computer he was assigned to.

“No, sir, we haven’t even tried. We know it’s unable to hear us or even see us unless we’re in the same room, so there wasn’t much we could do,” answered Flowers.

“Forget what I just said. How did they show up in this desert hole, anyhow?”

Flowers and Keats looked at each other, appearing stressed:

“Mr. Harrison, I hope you do realize what you’re about to hear is highly sensitive intelligence – ”

“For Christ’s sake! Spit it out already! We don’t have the luxury of dealing with this bullshit with so many lives at stake!”

“Right, I’m sorry, sir.” Keats assumed a serious tone once again. “The army was testing one of its new toys. You see, a new kind of chemical bombs, which are technically banned as we all know, so this was supposed to be a small-scale job intended to see if there’d be any significant trace left. The military were quick to inspect the original impact, and – well, you know what happened next, sir.”

“Damn right I do.” Harrison demonstratively turned to the spectre. “And to believe you were given all this money to actually protect the rest of the country from these things.”

“Now we have to, Harrison. We’re all in the same boat.” Flowers tried to appeal to a more empathetic side.

“Since you two haven’t even tried to contact this thing, we’ll be doing some science. I’m going to need loudspeakers for starters.”

Intensive work finally commenced. It had been long past midday, and every hour counted. No one volunteered to enter the ‘spectre cage’ room, so they had to request the colonel to order his men to set up loudspeakers in there, so the scientists could test the creature’s reaction to various frequencies. The soldiers were reluctant as everyone reported extreme headache whenever they came in proximity with the phantom, especially now that it seemed to have recovered from the initial shock it’d been found in.

First attempts didn’t bring any significant results. Harrison then tried extremely high-pitched levels to see any difference in the spectre’s behaviour – it remained indifferent, casually floating in its cramped space the wires confined it into. Next thing on the agenda were lights, different colours, saturation levels – so many things to test, for Harrison never seemed to run out of ideas.

During his short coffee breaks, he caught himself just looking at the truly fantastical spectre – he noticed it appeared to have a certain feminine quality, as though it used to be a woman who had been lost and turned into something terrifyingly unfathomable.

“Haven’t lost your mind there, Mr. Harrison?” Colonel Adams walked up from behind. Harrison didn’t even hear him open the door. It was past six p.m. and he’d been tirelessly trying other methods of contact which were all equally fruitless.

“Good evening, sir.” He adjusted his seat back. “I’ve sketched up a few theories. I think I’ll be able to give you something in a few hours.”

“Great, God knows I could use positive news. I’m afraid we lost contact with one of our camps 20 miles from here. Already sent out a search party.”

“Did they manage to send any message? What about the people I worked with in the morning?”

“They’ve been evacuated outside the zone, don’t worry about it.” Adams scratched his bristled chin. “No message from our boys though. I’m sorry, Harrison, I shouldn’t be bothering you with this. You definitely have work to do.” The colonel was about to leave. “And, by the way, I finally rounded up a few other teams, so they will be sending more scientists tomorrow morning, I bet you’re tired.” He finally departed. Dr Flowers and Dr Keats were still outside, having late lunch most likely.

Harrison returned to his notes, meditating over the next step. The colonel was right: he did need external help, and then he looked up at the spectre – he wasn’t willing to give her away that easily. She was his work, and he had to sort her out one way or another. His failed experiments weren’t completely useless as he’d been methodically ruling out the things other scientists would busy themselves with. There was one big, ‘unauthorized’ experiment left, and if he was to do it, he had to do it before anyone new arrived.

Pocketing a small notebook, with a recording device in hand, Harrison walked into the ‘spectre cage’ room. Finally, he saw her with his own eyes. Her floating head slowly turned to him.

“This is Doctor Harrison, recording from the emergency HQ, Day six into the Desert Crisis, seven p.m.” He brought the device close to his mouth, eyes dead on the spectre. “I’m attempting to establish and record a direct contact with the captured phantom. Right now, I’m in the same room. It doesn’t possess visionary, oral, or auditory senses, yet it seems to be aware of my presence. I’m walking slowly, coming closer, and it’s somehow registering my movement, as I can see its head won’t look away from me.” Harrison got his introduction. As he made his next short step closer, he felt an invisible wave coming right through him, as if it was a quick rush of wind.

‘Mark…’ A weak, but distinct voice spoke in his head. Harrison froze, eyes not blinking. ‘Mark, it is truly you.”’

He dropped his device. It cracked. She knew his name. Harrison found the strength to take a couple of steps back until his back hit the wall. There was a strange pressure around his head. The phantom spoke. She spoke! It wasn’t anything physical. It was telepathy!

‘Why won’t you talk to me? I can feel it’s you, Mark.’ She communicated once again. Harrison tried to reply, but she couldn’t hear him. Then he channelled all his mental effort into a clear thought, hoping it would translate to her.

‘Who are you?’ he said in his head.

‘You don’t know me? You don’t remember me? Watch,’ she said, and a strong, piercing, telepathic jolt of energy shot through his head. Harrison cried in pain, and a fast-paced series of pictures flashed right before him, as if he was dreaming.

Many years back, when Harrison was still a loving husband – or so he’d hoped to become – but he failed. The day he’d seen his new subordinate appear in his life he still remembered to the detail, and a long, emotional affair took its root, lasting for a few years until he finally gave in. The next couple of images were frying up his brain as he was experiencing the exact same physical sensations with her all over again – all within a meagre couple of seconds! And then it subsided into misery, for he’d left her, returned to his family which did not last long, although his ex-wife had never found out. The former mistress would try to reach out to him, to fall back into that blissful touch, but he had turned her down…

‘Evelyn?’ Harrison collapsed onto the floor, his back propped up against the wall. ‘Evelyn? How?’ His face all covered in sweat. Eyes watering.

‘Years after you left, I left the city myself. I had distant family here, then – then I can’t remember, something happened, and I’m this, I’m here.’

“No!” Harrison couldn’t help staying silent. “No, this is…” Tears were making their way down his sweat-covered cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Evelyn, I was – there was so much pain, and I was too scared to see you again, I was – oh, God.” He sobbed, unable to say anything else. Whether any of that message managed to make it through to her was a question, but he hoped she heard at least some of it.    

“Mr. Harrison! Mr. Harrison, are you alright?” Dr Keats rushed through the door, accompanied by his colleague Flowers and a few soldiers petrified by the scene. They helped him up on his feet and took him back to the research room, closing the door tight behind them.

“Somebody get a medic down here, now!” Keats commanded the nearest soldier. “Mr. Harrison, can you hear me?”

“I’m – yes, I’m alright, I’m.” He rubbed his eyes. “I talked with her, and, Christ, Keats, it’s all our fault.” Harrison looked up straight with his reddened eyes, rocking in the chair, “The explosion you mentioned, it’s – it’s – they’re spirits, Keats. They were people who lived here, you understand?!” He trembled feverishly.

Dr Keats stood back in amazement, Dr Flowers was listening, face puzzled. The latter took up the phone, and Harrison kept sitting in his chair, trying his best not to look at the spectre, but she was there, branded into his mind.

Medics arrived soon afterwards. Colonel Adams showed up as well. Harrison’s stats appeared normal: his mental capacity wasn’t impaired, and the symptoms of deep shock were slowly wearing off.

“You gave us one hell of a fright, Harrison.” Adams sat up next to him when the quick exam was finished. “Dr Flowers already gave me a short report. What were you thinking?”

“I needed to know, sir,” he said avoiding the face of the colonel. “I needed to do my job, sir.”

“Not at the risk of your own life! What do you think this is? Your personal playground? Like we haven’t lost many men yet?”

“Something else happened?” Harrison made a guess.

“The fuck you care now?” snapped Adams. “Sorry, Harrison.” He turned his back, nervously touching his face. “As a matter of fact, yes. No one from the search party has reported back. We lost another camp about half an hour ago. My request was cancelled. They won’t be sending out anyone into the zone. We are on our own for now.”

“We’re safe here though.” Sighed Harrison.

“Right. Anyway, what else have you – ”

Someone knocked on the door.

“Colonel Adams, sir! This is an emergency!”

The colonel let the soldier in.

“Report,” Adams said in a tired voice.

“Sir, our detection systems are picking up multiple signals across the perimeter. Less than a mile from here,” he cried out in agitation.

Adams bolted to the computer, entered a few passwords to open the necessary interface, and the chilling picture came up. Harrison saw the HQ in the middle, tents, walls, everything, and there were moving dots around the whole place.

“Where’s the first line of the barriers?” asked Harrison.

“Down there!” Adams pointed at the thin square the dots had already passed through. “It’s not a cube though, so they must have overtaken it, but why would they fly up so high just to get here?” he asked himself, and the loud siren sounded across the camp.

“But we have a cube round here, right?” Harrison jerked from the sound.

“Yeah…” Adams kept looking at the screen, mouth open. The dots were approaching the second level, and the noises of disorder were ringing around the building.

“What if it’s her?” said Harrison, looking up at the trapped phantom.

“‘Her’? You asked? What, is she some sort of hive queen? Don’t be ridiculous!” Adams asked, his voice on the verge of hysteria.

“Not the queen, but she’s one of them. What if they can sense her?”

“So, are you suggesting we just turn off the power, and let it melt off half the building? This is suicide, Harrison!”

“How long are we going to be able to sit here cornered? One day? Two days? Then what?”

“Well, the generators can keep working here for a week at least. This is top-notch stuff, you know. We have food supplies and everything, we’ll outlast them! Then our men will clear up the mess and we’ll be free, I’m sure!”

“Amazing! Now we’re the ones who are trapped.”

The computer beeped and gave off another loud sound of alert. They both looked at the screen in horror. It was not going to be a week, two days, or even one day. There was no time at all. The dots made it inside the cube. Apparently, the electrified barriers were more of an annoying obstacle to them – or their sheer masses could easily overpower any protective construction. There were screams, explosions, and even sounds of desperate shooting. Harrison saw the window between them and the phantom was now cracked, and the crack was spreading further and further. The lights went out. The glass broke and shattered.

‘Mark…’ 

Andrew Kishonis is an English teacher and linguist who writes poetry and prose. He delves into dark sci-fi and fantasy, often drawing inspiration from local myths.