14:16.01 Firmond, Augustus 32nd, 2016.

The red cratered surface ran dust all the way to the horizon. The barren land and ruined sky were silent. A solitary structure ascended into the sky, disappearing into the cloud bank with authority. The distant suns shone down from east and west, catching the black metal behemoth in their crosshairs. At the base of the tower sat a patch of green grass, an oasis of lush retreat. The air crackled with electricity and a soft wind eased across the plains. The sky darkened from gunmetal to black. Lightning burst in front of the tower.

The space in front of the featureless framework was speckled with dots. A flash of light, the darkness split, and a form fell to the ground with a dull thud. Curled in the fetal position it cowered, shaking. Human. Male. Naked.
John Harrison had arrived.

#

John shook himself awake and sat up. He crossed his legs and placed his hands on his knees. Dark eyes scanned the surroundings. Side to side and up the monolith his gaze went, his neck stretching back to soak it all in. The smell of burnt hair filled the air. He faced the massive structure. A sheen of sweat coated his muscled back. The bar code between his shoulder blades was scabbed. It bled as he scratched at it.
“Finally. Someone noticed.”
Rubbing his neck he smeared the blood.
“The journey of a thousand miles, and all that.”
His voice vanished in the breeze as his eyes searched for more.

harrison, john. you are special. commence study in 3…2…1…”
A slot in the base of the dark tower ejected a suitcase sized box at his feet.
“LESSON ONE,” the booming voice echoed.
Squatting like an amazonian toad, the dust settled around the suitcase.
John jumped to his feet.
“Thank you, sai.”

He eased forward to the black case, a whiff of bonfire and melted army men drifting to him. He bent over to grasp the box, placing his hands firmly on either side. He was rewarded with a sizzle and charred flesh.
“Goddamnit, shit.”

Yanking his hands away he thrust them into his mouth. Sucking on his fingers, he squeezed his eyes shut. Muttering obscenities, he stomped his foot.
“VIOLATION ONE, PROFANITY. LESSON ONE STATUS – FAILURE PROBABLE.” Two receipts spit out of the base of the tower near the suitcase exit. John ambled over, rubbing his singed hands on his meaty thighs. Picking the pale slips up off the ground, he crumpled them up into tiny balls and placed them in his mouth. Slowly he chewed them, eyes watering, jaw clenching and unclenching, until the paper was mush. He swallowed it with a gulp and a grimace.

Kneeling before the case again he noticed some writing on the edge. Hieroglyphics of some kind were carved into the side.
Everything is beautiful and nothing hurts.
“Right. What planet are you from? I piss on your beauty. I piss on your pain.”

Standing up, John grabbed hold of his dick and pointed it at the black square. Urine drenched the case in a blast of canary song. Tilting his head back as his mouth opened, he groaned into the air, closing his eyes in reverie.

A small click and the suitcase popped open, revealing pale blue scrubs and flip flops.
“LESSON ONE STATUS – COMPLETED. LESSON TWO TO COMMENCE IN 60 SECONDS.”
John shook the last drops off his dick and stared by the case. It was cool to the touch now, if a bit sticky. Pulling on the paper thin shirt and pants, he tightened the drawstring and yanked on the plastic shoes. He bent over the case. At the bottom of the box was his I.D.
Harrison, John – STUDENT. Nelos Quadrant, Home Base Alpha.
“LESSON TWO TO COMMENCE IN 3…2…1…”

A flash of yellow light turned to searing white and back to a dull black again.
“Howdy John. What took ya’ so long?”

#

Standing in front of John was an old friend, clad from head to toe in a black suit – expensive, Italian, hand-woven bliss. Gordon had short blond hair, ball-glove skin and ivory teeth. A piercing gaze in faded cornflower blue hid years of betrayal.
“Welcome to your education John. You’re special. Finally someone noticed.”
“I see that.”
“And you’re dressed. Good job son. We’ll make a man out of you yet.”
“Thanks Gordy. I was getting worried.”
“Well, you know. The burnt fingertips gave me pause. But I reckon you won’t do that again anytime soon, huh?”
“Fool me once, and all that.”
“Right-o.”
“So what now, Gordy? I’m here.”
“Ah. Yes. You are here. And you think you’re special John-boy. Know it in your head. Feel it in your heart. But you’re just not sure exactly what trait got you noticed, huh?”

John glanced down, then up at Gordon.
“No.”
“What was that? Speak up boy!”
“No sir. I don’t know, Gordon. But I’d like to.”
“I bet you would. Good. Is it the psionics? Electromagnetic energy transfer? Psychokinesis? Chi absorption? No, none of that. You’re special. And don’t bother trying any of that voodoo here, John. See this tower behind me? It is a complicated mathematical equation. Algorithms and scientific hypotheses. Radioactive isotopes plus atomic manipulation divided by metallurgic anomalies equals you can’t do jack shit.”
“Oh.”
“But you know what you can do for me John?”
“What?”
“You can die.”

#

Electricity filled the air, and static jumped about his head, hair standing on end.

Gordon glanced at the tower, searching for the source, eyes to John, then back to the rippling tower. He paused with his mouth open. His hands went out as he took a step back.
“Now, John, this isn’t anything personal. Take it easy partner.”

John eased forward, hands clenched behind his back.
“You take me for an idiot?”
“No, John. Wouldn’t be here if I thought you were an idiot.”

Gordon walked backward, faster and faster, until finally his back pressed against the tower with a quiet tink.
“We go way back. Phoenix from the ashes and all that. I know you, Gordon. And I wouldn’t allow myself to be selected unless I wanted to be here.”
“Sure buddy.”

Gordon glanced up, scanning the sky for something. Or someone.
“You won’t see her. Beth has been working on this. She’s special too.”

A shadowy haze drifted in and out of their peripheral vision like a transparent tumbleweed or an invisible dust bunny. Such things happened out here by the tower.
“Gordon, relax. Come sit down with me in the splendor. I’ve been looking forward to this for a long time. I missed you, buddy. When I was down at Mountain Pass mining Rhenium, I thought of you. Selenium, Silicon, Tellurium wondering where my good friend Gordon was. Thorium and Titanium, back breaking labor, my thoughts often turned to you, and what you were doing. Why you weren’t there with me.”

John sat in center of the cool grass, beckoning Gordon over. He crossed his legs, and put his hands on his knees. A deep breath.
“Don’t worry, she won’t bother us. She’s just security. “
“But, the tower…”
“Well, who do you think built it, Gordy?”

Gordon sat down, loosening his red and gold, hand-stitched, silk tie. There was no humidity, but rivulets of sweat ran down his temples, and under his damp collar.
“When did you go dark, Gordo? When did it all turn black?”

Gordon stared at John as his face fell.
“John, listen to me man. I’m just a pawn. If it wasn’t me, it’d just be somebody else. I don’t matter, I’m a cog.”
“And I’m just the ghost in the machine, and all that.”

John’s hand shot forward, punching through the Armani dress shirt the threads separating, piercing the flesh, the cells dividing, cracking past the bones until it grabbed a hold of Gordon’s still beating heart and squeezed, gently. Gordon gagged, turning pale. His eyes fading slowly to black. With a start his arms shot out akimbo.
“But I…what about…you can’t…”
“It’s a complicated mathematical equation. Algorithms and all that.”

One final squeeze and Gordon’s heart exploded in his chest. He collapsed in the grass, staining it with his life blood.

John pulled his hand back, free of any blood, gristle or gore.
“LESSON TWO STATUS – COMPLETE. CONGRATULATIONS, JOHN. YOU ARE SPECIAL. LESSON THREE TO COMMENCE IN 60 SECONDS.”

John closed his eyes and meditated. In an instant, he was back in the mines. The long days and heavy labor was a stepping stone towards this moment. The strange combination of minerals and gasses at first made him sick. He would vomit blood in the dark caverns, his head throbbing with unending migraines. But soon it passed, and he was never sick again. The canary that died in his hands was only two weeks ago. Voices came to him at night asking him for help, for favors. Day or night, black or white, dark or light, wrong or right. The white bearded trinity, the eight-armed woman, the smiling fat man. “Pick a side John,” they said. The peace that finally settled over him was comforting. The path that was revealed to him, daunting. The familiar ritual returned.

Deep breath, after deep breath, after deep breath, after deep breath. His eyes slowly open. The tower was gone. The grass was gone. Gordon was gone. There was nothing but the endless dark, a faint twinkling in the distance, and her presence.
“Beth, you ready?”
“LESSON THREE TO COMMENCE IN 3…2…1…”