Prophet and the Blood March (Prophet of ConFree) by Marshall S. Thomas Page B
Authors: Marshall S. Thomas
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Leaving a white-hot trail. Meteor, I thought. Damn! But at least it was not going to hit the city. It was going to fall way out in the ocean.
I watched it fall. A white hot core, leaving a burning wake. Finally it disappeared over the horizon. I hung there in the air, fascinated.
It burst like a million suns, lighting up all creation, blinding me, the light turning the city into a negative image. The light did not fade. It burnt itself into the sky, pulsing brightly. Millions of tons of vaporized seawater and superhot melted rocks were twisting up towards the stratosphere in a gigantic glowing cloud and starting to rain back down onto the planet. I could not look directly at it, it was too powerful. It was like looking at the face of God. Then the sound hit but it was not just a sound wave. It was the crack of doom and the last sound anyone in that city ever heard. A titanic shock wave shot in from the ocean, a tremendous burst of atmosphere and superhot debris that leveled the city instantly, obliterating everything, blasting it all to hell, an atmospheric firestorm. And then, with another gigantic rumbling, the earth shook and the ocean came shooting in, a tsunami hundreds of marks tall, a great evil superwave, hitting at the speed of a starcraft, obliterating the flaming remnants of the city, grinding it to pieces.
I somehow remained there, way up in the sky, as the debris rained down, filling the sky, turning it black. The entire world below was boiling, as the ocean swirled over the firestorm. Nothing was left. How had I survived?
Then I saw it. A single starcraft, gliding calmly over the inferno below. I recognized it immediately. It was a Bright fighter.
Recon, I thought. Post-strike recon. Mission confirmed successful.
I screamed at last, vaulting out of bed and crashing to the floor, tangled in sheets. Honeyhair came scrambling after me, shocked awake, calling my name.
I was convulsed, my muscles paralyzed, then I started shaking violently. "Get the Prof!" I called out. "Now! Now! Now! We go to the brainscan room, now! Alert everybody!" This was it. This was what we had been waiting for, all this time. I struggled to my feet, helped up by Honeyhair.
"Are you all right, Prophet?" she asked shakily.
"No! No! I'm not all right." The Brights, the Brights, I thought. Why would the Brights do that?
Δ
As I lay there on the examining table with my head encased in the brainscan device, I tried to remain calm. Pretty much everybody was there, the Prof, Doc D, Paula the psycherchick, all the techs, and everyone else who had heard the ruckus at oh-dark-thirty and realized that something was up. Everyone was wearing rumpled pajamas or shorts and tees or nightgowns. Bees and Scout were there and so were Ice and Kwan and Saka and Lan Hwa. Honeyhair was by my side, still trembling, and Blondie suddenly rushed in to comfort her.
"Just relax, Prophet," the Prof said. "These images are so clear." He was viewing the brainscan images on a d-screen. "Oh my goodness. Oh. All right, just try to relax. Did you hear it as well as see it?"
"Yes. I thought the blast had deafened me. It was so real. So real!"
"And you say you were floating up in the air?"
"Yes."
"Interesting. So the DX is showing you something but you are only involved as a spectator. It's as if it is one possible future, but you don't necessarily have to be there. Like Ice's vision of the attack on Valhalla. In her vision, she was there, a participant, but in reality she was never there. It would have happened, but we reacted to it, so it started to happen, but we were able to counter it because we knew it was going to happen. Good work, Prophet! Good work! This is so thrilling! The instant everything is confirmed I'm prepping a flash Cosmic Secret Q-link report for the Director of ConFree and everybody else who has need to know. But first I wake up Ambassador Wester and brief him."
"Look at that. Look at that!" somebody said.
"Oh my dear God," the Prof said.
I watched it fall. A white hot core, leaving a burning wake. Finally it disappeared over the horizon. I hung there in the air, fascinated.
It burst like a million suns, lighting up all creation, blinding me, the light turning the city into a negative image. The light did not fade. It burnt itself into the sky, pulsing brightly. Millions of tons of vaporized seawater and superhot melted rocks were twisting up towards the stratosphere in a gigantic glowing cloud and starting to rain back down onto the planet. I could not look directly at it, it was too powerful. It was like looking at the face of God. Then the sound hit but it was not just a sound wave. It was the crack of doom and the last sound anyone in that city ever heard. A titanic shock wave shot in from the ocean, a tremendous burst of atmosphere and superhot debris that leveled the city instantly, obliterating everything, blasting it all to hell, an atmospheric firestorm. And then, with another gigantic rumbling, the earth shook and the ocean came shooting in, a tsunami hundreds of marks tall, a great evil superwave, hitting at the speed of a starcraft, obliterating the flaming remnants of the city, grinding it to pieces.
I somehow remained there, way up in the sky, as the debris rained down, filling the sky, turning it black. The entire world below was boiling, as the ocean swirled over the firestorm. Nothing was left. How had I survived?
Then I saw it. A single starcraft, gliding calmly over the inferno below. I recognized it immediately. It was a Bright fighter.
Recon, I thought. Post-strike recon. Mission confirmed successful.
I screamed at last, vaulting out of bed and crashing to the floor, tangled in sheets. Honeyhair came scrambling after me, shocked awake, calling my name.
I was convulsed, my muscles paralyzed, then I started shaking violently. "Get the Prof!" I called out. "Now! Now! Now! We go to the brainscan room, now! Alert everybody!" This was it. This was what we had been waiting for, all this time. I struggled to my feet, helped up by Honeyhair.
"Are you all right, Prophet?" she asked shakily.
"No! No! I'm not all right." The Brights, the Brights, I thought. Why would the Brights do that?
Δ
As I lay there on the examining table with my head encased in the brainscan device, I tried to remain calm. Pretty much everybody was there, the Prof, Doc D, Paula the psycherchick, all the techs, and everyone else who had heard the ruckus at oh-dark-thirty and realized that something was up. Everyone was wearing rumpled pajamas or shorts and tees or nightgowns. Bees and Scout were there and so were Ice and Kwan and Saka and Lan Hwa. Honeyhair was by my side, still trembling, and Blondie suddenly rushed in to comfort her.
"Just relax, Prophet," the Prof said. "These images are so clear." He was viewing the brainscan images on a d-screen. "Oh my goodness. Oh. All right, just try to relax. Did you hear it as well as see it?"
"Yes. I thought the blast had deafened me. It was so real. So real!"
"And you say you were floating up in the air?"
"Yes."
"Interesting. So the DX is showing you something but you are only involved as a spectator. It's as if it is one possible future, but you don't necessarily have to be there. Like Ice's vision of the attack on Valhalla. In her vision, she was there, a participant, but in reality she was never there. It would have happened, but we reacted to it, so it started to happen, but we were able to counter it because we knew it was going to happen. Good work, Prophet! Good work! This is so thrilling! The instant everything is confirmed I'm prepping a flash Cosmic Secret Q-link report for the Director of ConFree and everybody else who has need to know. But first I wake up Ambassador Wester and brief him."
"Look at that. Look at that!" somebody said.
"Oh my dear God," the Prof said.
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