Bard Constantine
The Aberration: Torment of Tantalus
The Aberration Series
The Aberration
The Blurred Man (short story)
The Blurred Man: Gestalt (short story)
Nemesis (short story)
Short stories also included in The Aberration: Special Edition
The Aberration: Torment of Tantalus
The Aberration: Memento Mori (upcoming)
Φ
Lonely seas see seizures of
depression in our heads;
demons take their chances,
chance of living amongst the dead.
Deadly consequences quenches
thoughts of dirty deeds;
weeping willows winnow mournful
tears for the bereaved.
Reaver’s whispered ruination, four winds
carry out the calclass="underline"
Freedom is but promised, but not
guaranteed to all.
All will always herd together, gather
targets for the cue;
amass our mass destruction,
fire magnifies the view.
View of retribution
spews across the blazing sky;
sky-way to tomorrow, sorrow
blinds immortal eyes…
Ώ
Part I: Temblors
Prelude: Abysm
“We’re approaching the anomaly now.”
Alexander Blackwell couldn’t help the quickening of his pulse, the slight rise of temperature that dampened his undershirt with a coat of uncontrolled perspiration. He clasped his hands behind his back to keep them from trembling from the rush of giddy adrenaline.
Contracted scientists, personal aides, oceanographers, geologists, and other experts were on hand to witness the start of a new era for humanity. Dozens of monitors displayed feed from the Gorgon, the prototype deep-sea diving submarine that had already broken the world record for manned submersion. That was irrelevant in the face of the Gorgon’s true mission.
Blackwell focused on the main screen, where imagery from the Gorgon’s forward camera was displayed. The submarine was only yards away from a massive fissure, a gash in the ocean floor that pulsed with violet light, peering at the submarine like the narrowed eye of some primeval sea monster. It was the reason for the Gorgon’s presence, the justification for an expedition costing Chimera Global hundreds of millions. The anomaly was potentially the greatest find in human history, a potential means to produce sustainable energy, ridding the world of glutting on fossil fuels and destructive mining. The projections were promising. Worth every risk if capable of producing even half of its potential.
And fully capable of dragging his company into bankruptcy if it proved to be a fluke. It was an enormous gamble, but far too tantalizing to ignore. If he didn’t make the move first, someone else would have. And Blackwell could not have that.
Dr. Rosen continued his deliberation from the Gorgon’s hub. “Directing the probe into range.”
A small, rounded object was fired from the sub, streaking toward the fissure. In mere seconds it entered and vanished in the lavender glow.
“Receiving readings now.”
Blackwell watched as Dr. Rosen scanned the data. “My God.”
“What is it?”
Dr. Rosen looked up, staring directly at the camera with wide eyes. “I think… I’m sure what we’re looking at is proof of intelligence.”
“Intelligence? From what?”
The fissure pulsated, brightening in a brilliant flash of light. A rumbling noise vibrated over the speakers. The Gorgon visibly rocked in the wake of the disturbance.
Blackwell tapped the speaker in his ear. “Dr. Rosen, what’s happening?”
“Some kind of energy pulse from the anomaly. I don’t like it. I’m pulling back.”
Blackwell hesitated, jaw clenching. “Very well. But not so far away that you lose connection with the probe. If what you’re saying is right, we need that data.”
“Copy that.”
The fissure pulsed again, rattling the speakers. Voltaic cords whipped from its center, flailing tentacles that seared the murky surroundings with flashes of violet light. The electric whips struck the Gorgon with a sizzling sound. The screens flickered, images blurred from the shockwave.
“We’ve been hit!”
The cameras showed the panicked crew recoiling as their operation controls exploded in showers of sparks and flame. The groan of buckling metal was clearly audible as the incredible pressure from the ocean bore down on the damaged submersible.
Sweat beaded on Blackwell’s forehead. “Dr. Rosen?”
Rosen helped one of his crew to their feet while scanning the damage with a critical eye. “Whatever that thing hit us with, it crippled the controls. We’re taking water. The sub is inoperable. We have to abandon ship. The escape pods are our only shot.”
“Those pods aren’t meant to be deployed at your current depths. You’ll be crushed like soda cans.”
Dr. Rosen’s terrified face filled the screen. “Are you deaf? The Gorgon is about to go. We don’t have a choice!”
“Dr. Rosen. Wait, there had to be a—”
The audio connection was lost in a blast of static.
The consoles showed the rest. The crew of five scrambling, trying to get to the escape hatches. Water flooded in from everywhere, punishing their bodies with brutal efficiency. Their final moments were silent, observed by a room full of shocked witnesses as one by one they succumbed to a slow death by drowning. Their corpses floated by, staring at Blackwell as if blaming him for the disaster. The cameras went black as the Gorgon was completely destroyed.
“Dr. Rosen.”
Blackwell licked his lips, suddenly very thirsty. His breath shuddered in exhalation. “Dr. Rosen.” His fingers crept up to seize his shirt collar. The top button snapped, toppling down his chest on a long trip to the tiled floor.
He stared at the crowd of onlookers. The stunned faces of the best minds in their fields looked back at him, incomprehension practically stamped on their foreheads.
“What the hell just happened?”
“The backlash appeared to be the result of a defense mechanism,” Dr. Stein said.
Blackwell had retreated to his private office to lick his wounds. A glass of scotch sat on his desk, unattended while he tried to shake off the paralyzing shock that gripped him. His team ran frantic in the control room, trying to determine what went wrong. He knew finger pointing and blame assessment would follow as the individuals tried to distance themselves from the collective. While the team disintegrated, Blackwell had sent for the one man who might be able to shed light on the matter.
Dr. Franklin Nicolas Stein was a rotund man with a normally jolly expression, like a stand-in for Santa Clause. But his eyes glimmered with intelligence and in this case, eagerness. He was considered avante garde in the scientific community, passionate about his theory. Yet he was ostracized by many of his peers because on his insistence on disregarding ethical constraints on research and testing.
Blackwell’s eyebrows lifted. “Defense mechanism. We’re talking intelligence, like Dr. Rosen said.”
“Just as I suggested from the start, if you remember. The anomaly might be an energy reservoir, but the energy is being directed from somewhere. The fact that it acted in self-defense only proves that.”
“Directed from where?”
“Impossible to say at the moment. I’ll need time to study, gather data from the source. Without direct interaction, it’s impossible to determine exactly what we’re dealing with.”
“And the feedback from the probe?”