Phillips Sparks

Part 1
1. Auflage 2024
ISBN: 979-8-3509-3970-5
Verlag: BookBaby
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: Adobe DRM (»Systemvoraussetzungen)

E-Book, Englisch, Band 1, 560 Seiten

Reihe: Sparks

Notice for Ebook Readers: This book contains two different fonts to differentiate between types of conversation. Make sure you have them available or the conversations may become confusing. Richard Cronin survives a hostage situation and inherits the property of his now dead best friend, wondering how he can help the world with it. Shortly after this event, a being comes to Earth with abilities that defy science and are better explained as magic or divine power. Then humans start awakening to these same abilities and everyone questions what it means to be human anymore as morality is lost when gaining such power. When Rich awakens, the opportunities afforded by this power make him ask the question: What will he do as a god?

Marcellus Philips is an average guy working an average job in an average life who suddenly decided to write a story about something more sensational and spectacular. He grew up in Illinois in the Chicago suburbs and moved to Florida years later to eventually find he had a mind for stories, including one big one that kept bothering him enough to write out.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Phillips, Marcellus

Leseproben

December 20, 2012.
Jamaica. The island of Jamaica was a quiet, peaceful place to be on a normal day. Bustling traffic with travelers in the roads, water, and sky. Birds and insects calling out in nature. Lazy enjoyment of the weather outside in the sun, wind, water, and beach. Wares being bought and sold; food and drink consumed at leisurely paces. Island paradise. That wasn’t the case today. For the past four hours, there had been frequent tremors proceeding around the islands’ edge. It shook like there was an earthquake, except Jamaica wasn’t on a fault line. So, as you might suspect, the residents were panicking. They felt like trapped rats, which was hard to dispute given the circumstances. Dozens of gold-rimmed flat, vertical oval portals appeared around the island, each one near large populations of gathered people. They were large enough for an adult human to pass through, except for the one which appeared in the middle of the main airport, which was much larger. A towering five-and-a-half-meter human figure, clad in black, emerged from this larger oval. One hundred thirty-seven human figures came through the other portals, each attired in the same black outfit that entirely covered their body. They each wore a black mask with a different silver-outlined image, yet these masks completely enclosed their head, and along with their outfits, showed no hair, skin, or anything else underneath. All these figures bore the same symbol on the front and back of their outfits: a heater shield design with a circle inside, which itself contained an eight-pointed star, which featured a symbol in each point and in its middle. The giant had this symbol only on its mask but in glittering silver. The populace started to take notice of these new arrivals. They were slow to recognize but quick to accept the result, and the knowledge spread amongst the islanders like lightning. “The Protectors of Hope!” The giant telepathically addressed those in black with a deep, somewhat ethereal nonhuman voice. ‘They know you’re here; they know who you are; now give them what they need.’ The Protectors spoke to the masses around them, using their powers to project the sound of their voice throughout the crowds. “Citizens of Jamaica, the Protectors of Hope are here to offer our help. We will take you to a protected lunar orbit platform, and when Jamaica is safe again, you will be returned without delay or expectation of compensation. If you accept, please move through the nearest portal.” The rims of the ovals flashed, rotated ninety degrees, and then grew in size. They were now sixteen meters wide and large enough for every truck and bus on the island to get through. Dividers emerged from inside and stopped in front of the oval, splitting the approach into four even lanes and as needed for car or pedestrian. The lanes proceeded seemingly uninterrupted through the oval, through which the view showed a massive, enclosed area, dozens of kilometers long. The islanders limited view mistook it for the inside of a warehouse, just without any shelves. The platform had artificial gravity equivalent to that of Earth’s, along with a breathable atmosphere, and the portals were spaced evenly throughout the refuge, allowing the entire space to fill at one time rather than from one end to the other. Many of the Protectors were approached by members of the Jamaican government and Jamaica Defence Force, who asked the Protectors to clarify their intentions, methods, and ultimate goal, to which the Protectors of Hope politely obliged. They were not occupiers; anyone who did not wish to go was free to stay out, and anyone inside was free to return to Jamaica if they changed their minds. And once all who chose evacuation were safely on the platform, the Protectors would leave and wait for the country to finish its current quake activity before returning its populace. The Prime Minister was talking to one of them with an image of a matchstick on its mask. “Why would you do this for us?” “You don’t wish to be evacuated?” “No. No, I mean, what do you get out of this? You claim you don’t want compensation so what would make you want to evacuate an entire island nation? And what of Judgment?” He motioned to the giant accompanying them. The matchstick on the mask changed to a simple mask like those used in old Greek plays and mimicked the facial expressions of the man under it. It stared at the Prime Minister. “When did helping others become a foreign concept to you? The Protectors of Hope follow the ideology laid down by the Messengers of Hope: embracing the virtues of humanity. It wouldn’t matter if this was another landmass or another nation, we offer our help because you could make use of it. It’s what humans do for one another.” “But...no one acts like that. No one behaves that selflessly anymore.” “The Messengers did. We’ve taken up that cause and placed all our ability and humanity behind it. That’s why the Protectors of Hope were founded, to bring that back into the world. And Judgment has no interest in interfering; there’s nothing going on here to piss it off that much. Now, are you coming or not?” he asked, pointing at the portal behind him. The Prime Minister looked at the Protector, then at the oval and its interior, and then at his citizens. They were getting ready to trample the soldiers blocking their path to safety. “General, tell the soldiers to let them through.” The Lieutenant General of the Jamaican Regiment spoke. “Sir, you can’t seriously believe that these...pretend gods...imitating humans, are actually going to help?” “I do, General.” “May I ask what has convinced you?” “They wear the symbol of the Messengers of Hope; this one speaks with the same beliefs and conviction as the Messengers once did; and of course, their platform seems a great deal safer than Jamaica right now. And even if they’re lying about compensation, I’d rather bankrupt the country than allow my citizens to die.” “Sir, kind words are one thing, but good intentions should be proven another way.” “This is an order, General. Your objection is noted but the responsibility is ultimately mine.” The general paused a moment before speaking again. “Sir, yes sir.” He saluted before moving off to communicate with the Jamaica Defence Force around the island to allow the populace to enter the ovals if they chose to. Soldiers all across the island moved inside the portals first, taking charge and keeping order for anyone who followed. The ones still outside watched their fellow civilians make their choice. Immediately cars and people began moving into the ovals, and planes and boats docked and disembarked thousands more. The Protectors of Hope carefully watched and guided the citizens into their refuge. The black-clad giant created a semi-transparent, three-dimensional map of the island with highlighted golden portals in front of itself and watched the evacuation unfold. ‘Keep them moving, quickly and safely,’ it spoke to the other Protectors. ‘Acknowledged,’ came the responses from each Protector. The portals moved backwards in the refuge as more people filled the space, removing the need for the citizens to travel any farther once inside. There were water fountains, restrooms, and benches along the lanes to allow the island inhabitants a chance to rest and wait. A rumbling conquered the ground of Jamaica. ‘6.1 incoming!’ their instructor warned them, the large black-clad humanoid raising its hands, and as it did so, a shimmering white barrier rose thirty meters out from the shore, surrounding the island. The barrier penetrated the water and sand, deep into the rock. As the land shook, the barrier pulsed brightly and the kinetic energy of the quake was stopped from passing through, preventing any chance of tidal waves from spawning. When Jamaica rumbled it was loud enough to cause panic and strong enough to knock many people over. The remaining citizens began pushing on the people in front of them to move faster. The Protectors began calling out, “Do not push or rush the people in front of you!” Their words did little to sway the fear that possessed the islanders. Dozens of Protectors jumped into the crowds and then jumped back out, pulling out the most reckless citizens. “If you cause trouble again, I’ll break a leg to ensure you move at the crowds’ pace!” one Protector with a bear on its mask sternly told several of the citizens it’d removed. These citizens returned to the lines as the Protectors continued to pull other troublemakers out and warn them too. The JDF were also shouting commands at the crowd, as both groups worked to maintain a calm atmosphere amongst a prevailing feeling of certain danger. Row after row of cars and humans moved through the ovals into the lunar refuge, boarding thousands of people at a time. But as the crowd began to organize a bit, it became clear that not everyone was going in. For every ten people that entered, one stayed behind. A Protector wearing a mask with the image of a field watched the group of those staying behind swell from a few dozen to several hundred. ‘Are we truly going to leave these people behind?’ she telepathically asked her companions. ‘You’ve given them an opportunity. They choose their fate. Leave them be,’...