The Vostok Revelation

CHAPTER TWELVE

November 2239, Communications Control Center, Utopia City.

Director Serrano stepped into Utopia City’s Communications Control Center, a six by nine meter compartment at the center of the man-made island, and fixed her eyes on the navigation wall. In this chamber, which she uncharacteristically visited more than a dozen times in the last three days, the Federation could monitor, manage and manipulate all technology on the planet. Typically cluttered with hundreds of dots representing the Federations biological and mechanical assets, the gigantic digitized globe now held only four orange points of light, one in South America, one in North America, one in Europe, and one in Asia Minor.

“Director, satellite reconnaissance has detected four analogous signatures matching that of the entity in western Bolivia; Wiltshire, England; Peebles, Ohio; and Göbekli Tepe, Turkey,” the young woman said the moment Serrano stepped out of the elevator.

“Four?”

“Yes, ma’am. Moments after the appearance of the first anomaly, the three additional anomalies appeared.”

Looking to the signatures on the navigation wall, she asked, “Do we have eyes on any of these?”

“Not at this time, Madam Director,” said a man to her left, the shifts duty officer. “The nearest anomaly, the one in Bolivia, is moving west approaching the pre-Colombian ruin of Tiwanaku. Tiwanaku is a tourist area. Except for an occasional anthropological or an archaeological expedition, none of which are scheduled at this time, it’s likely that only a few tourists would be present when it arrives.”

“Drones?”

“We have a two dozen short range drones in Sucre that could be over Tiwanaku in approximately five hours.”

“Five hours?”

“We have a weather satellite passing over the continent in thirty-three minutes,” a male technician called out from a console to her left.

“Please tell me that there are cameras on the satellite.”

“Yes Ma’am, since 2131 any satellites placed into orbit is required to include a full range of redundant observational devices for emergency situations.”

Director Serrano, anxious to shake the portentous weight in her stomach said, “I want the drones deployed immediately. I want every camera on that satellite focused on the Tiwanaku entity the moment it comes into range. What about the three others?”

“Scientists are already en route to Stonehenge and the Snake Mound. Each team should be making contact and establishing communication with us within the hour. We have no assets near Göbekli Tepe. A team from Istanbul will be leaving momentarily and should arrive in approximately eight hours,” the female technician informed.

“Madam Director, we have just received still images of the anomaly from a tourist in Tiwanaku,“ an excited duty officer shouted from his console. “I’m bringing them to port wall.”

On the port wall appeared four one-meter images of a darkened bi-pedal form. In one of the images the entity was dwarfed between two wide stone columns; its left ‘leg’ appeared much narrower than its counterpart.

“What are those pillars made out of?” Director Serrano said to herself.

A second passed before the female technician answered, “The pillars are made of sandstone, ma’am.”

“Huh? Oh, yes. Thank you.” The Director studied the picture for several seconds. Something other than the slender appendage didn’t seem right, “How tall are those pillars?”

An image of a megalithic stone arch presented itself on the port wall alongside the tourist’s images. Text beneath the image identified the structure as the Gate of the Sun. Absent from the images containing the entity was the massive slab of stone that had sat atop the two four-meter columns for two millennia.

Comparing the entity to the known dimensions of the monolith pillars, Director Serrano concluded that it was only 1.5 meters tall, less than one quarter of its size when seen in Antarctica. “Enlarge the top stone.”

The stone connecting the two columns, the lintel, enlarged to consume the top third of the port wall. Carved into its face were forty-eight winged effigies, most with human and some with avian faces, focused on the figure of a squat man in a headdress at the center of the lintel. Surrounding the headdress were dozens of linear lines which suggested that the man was somehow divine by radiating light.

In the recent image, the lintel, all the angels and the divine luminous man, were completely missing. The rubble strewn about the entity’s legs suggested that the entity had destroyed the ancient structure.

“Director Serrano, the entity is moving again heading east,” the female technical called out.

Serrano furrowed her brow, “How far out are our assets? Is the satellite in position?”

This time the duty officer answered, “The satellite is still nine minutes out of position. The drones are more than three hours away.”

November 2239, Adena Recreational Park, Adams Country Ohio

Several snack laden blankets were laid out in the grass atop the Serpent Mound. Conversing adults staked the corners of their linen claimed plots while dozens of children gathered to choose kickball teams in the wide vacant depressions between the raised body segments of the Great Serpent Mound.

The stark contrast of a shadow atop the head mound caught the attention of a mother who was setting containers of food on her blanket.

“Jamie!’ She shouted without looking up, “I told you to stay with the other kids!”

Glancing up, her son hadn’t moved.

“Boy! If I have to come over there to get you…”

Two women on the mound next to her looked in her direction. Jamie did nothing.

Annoyed the mother placed the container she’d been holding onto the blanket, stood up, cupped her hands and called out again to her son again.

Still, nothing.

Conceding that he may not have heard her over all the noise, she descended the mound, walked to the paved path that ran adjacent to the full length of the Serpent Mound and began walking the fifty meters to her son.

As she neared the serpent head her son began to descend its opposite side.

“Jamie,” she hollered with less than ten meters separating them, “Now, I know you can hear me. I told you to stay with the other kids. Don’t make me chase after you!”

Jamie continued down the opposite side.

Annoyed, Jamie’s mom descended the mound to follow the walking path around the serpent’s head. Her son was nowhere to be seen.

“Jamie!” Growing concerned.

No answer.

She hiked up the head of the serpent mound for a better view. Instantly, she spotted her husband’s faded orange and black tiger-striped t-shirt on a child running among a group of children two mounds away. Thankful that her son was where he was supposed to be but perplexed by how he got there so quickly, Jamie’s mom began the hike down the mound to the paved path that led in the direction of her child.

After taking one step, a shuffling of stones behind her caused her to look back. At the top of the mound, at the place where she once stood, a blank hole in the sky, shaped like a child, was rising from the soil. Dumbfounded, Jamie’s mom stumbled backward, her ass planting firmly in the grass, her eyes never leaving the dark void at the top of the mound. The shape began to walk, one leg before the other, across the serpent’s neck before descending into the depression adjacent to where her son was playing.

Panicked for her child, she willed herself off the ground and raced toward the shadow. She had to stop it. She had to protect Jamie. Tipping her upper body to imitate the football players her husband loved to watch, she hurled her entire fifty kilograms into the upper torso of the petite shadow. It was like hitting a wall. Her body bent unnaturally. A wave of pain washed over her as her body fell to the grass at the shadows feet.

She could not move.

Consumed by pain, her eyes welled with tears.

A stark blackness enveloped her blurred vision. The shadow had moved over her. She felt a sharp searing pain stab into the side of her neck. Intense heat spread throughout her body until darkness overtook her.

November 2239, Stonehenge Monument, United Kingdom

The team of scientists arrived at Stonehenge Monument less than an hour after the entity’s absent signature was identified by satellite, emerging from the sea at Bridport. As they raced to the scene they watched live-feed broadcasts of the entity walking through the walls of buildings, trampling over vehicles, and plowing through crowds of people unfortunate enough not to notice its approach and move out of its way. The damage to property was substantial but, thus far, there has been no significant harm to anyone the entity had encountered.

Unlike Emergency Service Division personnel, which were permitted to immediately enter areas vacated by the entity to manage any destruction, the team of eight physicists and engineers from Southampton had direct orders from the Federation to maintain a reasonable distance, to observe the entity as best as possible, and to refrain from engagement until the entity’s destination and intention were more clear.

At Stonehenge dozens of people gathered around the dark human form that stood idle in the center of the ancient monument. Before the eyes of all mankind its appendages melded into its trunk, the short-black post began growing taller. As it heightened, the trunk continued to narrow until the once human form resembled a four meter, perfectly rigid thread balancing on end.

As the science team vans arrived and as the scientists frantically began unloading their gear and hastened to set up their equipment, the thread slipped effortlessly into the soil. Several seconds later, the crowd, the science team and their instruments, and the world witnessed the thread rise straight out of the soil. A silent moment passed before it shrank and expanded back into its initial proportions sprouted its appendages and began walking southwest.

This time everyone and anything that could move, moved from its path.