Afallon - Episode 1: Flashpoint

By R.K. Souliske

In a dystopian future, the world is under alien occupation. One man's message has kept hope alive. It has become a rallying cry to "hold on through the long dark night". Humanity has continued to fight back, holding on to an ideal and a dream. Those they once called "radicals" for their "wild" conspiracy theories have now become the unsung heroes and fallen prophets. The truth has been revealed. While the dawn of a new age arrives a new threat has caused the lines of dissension to be redrawn.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Aug 24, 2015
• ISBN: 9781329451513

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Afallon - Episode 1: Flashpoint

AFALLON

     Episode I: Flashpoint

R.K. Souliske

Copyright © 2015 by Robert Souliske

All rights reserved. This e-book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review or scholarly journal.

First Printing: 2015

ISBN: 978-1-329-45151-3

Robert Souliske 2015

In a dystopian future, the world is under alien occupation. One man's message has kept hope alive. It has become a rallying cry to hold on through the long dark night. Humanity has continued to fight back, holding on to an ideal and a dream. Those they once called radicals for their wild conspiracy theories have now become the unsung heroes and fallen prophets. The truth has been revealed. While the dawn of a new age arrives a new threat has caused the lines of dissension to be redrawn.

We tried to warn them, so many times in so many ways. They would not listen. Now the price has been paid. The darkness has fallen and the long night has descended. There is still hope, it flickers softly. Even in the darkness there is always a shimmer of light.

Hope has sparked our conviction and our conviction has strengthened our resolve. We will be the light that shines in the darkness. We will be that voice that echoes through out     creation.

We will be free.

Long live the voice in the dead woods!

Chapter 1:

The office was spacious and comfortable. The large glass windows allowed the afternoon sun to set the room ablaze with a warm glow. The marble fireplace was polished to a meticulous shine and the dark burgundy rug was kept spotless as if the installers had just left moments before. Marshall Kaine stood and looked around the room uninterested in the comfort and warmth of the office. He had seen it many times before, this time it was no       different.

He stood before the silver mirror that hung over the mantel. He noticed his own    reflection, the first time he had seen it in weeks. The man staring back at him was   no   longer recognizable. He had the same dark blue eyes and black hair, now streaked with grey lines, but he was different. The last few years had changed him in many ways. He looked closely at the scar over his left eye, it was healing fast. The doctors had reconstructed his cheek bones and even saved his vision in that eye. They had done a great job of fixing him up after the     federal agents had bashed his face in. He smiled, why even bother fixing him up? He was most likely headed for execution.

He turned and walked over to the large pane glass windows and gazed absently at the front gate. The large white and gold trimmed sign read, "175th District Federal Campus, and below that a golden plaque that stated, We all must do our fair share". The white and pink roses planted all around the front gate and the sign seemed an odd contrast to the alabaster walls and steel gate. The security drones flying the perimeter like moths dancing around a flame appeared comical and ludicrous to him. 

The D.F.C program, as it was called, was nothing more than a reeducation camp.      Government sponsored and enforced. The     federal government’s solution to dealing with those that refused to conform. Society’s undesirables would be sentenced here and rehabilitated to become a functional and obedient citizen. The ideals of freedom and   liberty stripped away and replaced with unconditional compliance. The government was mother and father to all. That was the mantra and ideal that they wanted you to hold to. The District federal campuses ensured that. If you refused to conform then you would simply disappear.

Marshall grinned as he heard the door handle click and the lock release. A loud buzzer sounded. It was the queue for him to sit. Marshall ignored it and continued to watch the front gate. A large black van had pulled up and was waiting as the large gate silently swung open. He watched with mild interest. New residents arrived every day. Why would today be any different? 

The van’s door opened and two guards emerged. They opened the back door and pulled a middle aged woman out. She brushed them off with a graceful defiance as she glanced back at him. Her green eyes seemed to stare right at him from across the yard. It was impossible though, the windows were one way, and you could look out but never in. She turned quickly as her black silky hair snapped wildly in the breeze. She bent down and snapped off one of the red roses, using it to pin her hair back behind her ear. The guards grabbed her again this time more forcibly and led her into the complex. That one act of defiance brought a smile to Marshall's face. The hope shining forth in that moment of darkness shone as a light, deep into the recesses of his heart. It gave him reassurance that all he had fought for and was fighting for was worth it.

The door to the office opened pulling his attention away from the young girl. A tall bald man entered, wearing a freshly pressed and clean lab jacket. He held a large vanilla colored folder in his hand as he flipped through it quickly.

Morning Marshall, How are you? The man asked as he closed the door. He walked confidently into the room and sat down in a large leather chair on the opposite side of the room.

I’m fine Dr. Kalsdin. Marshall            answered. He looked at the doctor sitting in front of him and waited for the man to speak. The doctor inevitably would, he was one to control the conversation and Marshall was more than happy to let him do so.

I see you got a new haircut, it looks great. The shorter hair looks good on you and makes the slight graying on your temples give you a distinguished look. Dr Kalsdin commented as he opened a small handheld computer and recorder.

Thanks. Marshall answered. He looked over to the clock and sighed, it wasn’t time yet. He still had to endure this one more time.

Well let’s get this started shall we? The Doctor asked. He turned on the recorder and spoke into it.

Session 3, Subject Marshall Kaine, September the 5th 

Well Marshall we last left off with you telling me about the circumstances leading up to your crime. The doctor flipped through a few pages of his notes before he continued speaking.

For the record I am required to state your crimes and charges.

You’ve been found guilty till proven innocent of the murder of U.S. Senator James Calvin, as well as sedition and insurrection. You’ve also have been charged as a terrorist in direct opposition to the government.

The doctor paused and read through more details before continuing. Let’s see. You have promoted ideals and beliefs unacceptable to the state’s established rules of belief and compliance with federal mandates.  You have also maintained an insistent stance on the fact that an outside force is conspiring against the human race, with the willing participation of the government.

The doctor looked up from his notes and tried to read Marshall’s reaction to the charges. As usual Marshall showed no response in the form of nonverbal signs of discomfort or remorse.

Are these charges correct?

If you consider bringing the truth to light as a crime, I would say yes they are correct. However you forgot to add a few things. The belief that as individuals we are responsible for who we are. We are more than what the government tells us we are. These ideas and beliefs should also be listed as being against the federal interpretation of utopian ideals.

Oh and the fact that I didn’t kill Senator Calvin, the government did. I was trying to save him. 

Marshall let himself stop there. He could have continued adding more but he knew the doctor would not really hear what he was trying to say. Instead he would stick to the script, that predefined role that the government and the world as a whole had assigned him to. The spark of inspiration and divine destiny would be ignored and considered foolishness.

The doctor ignored the details of Marshall's comments and continued on with the session. He had heard Marshall's story many times, he would not validate it. He would only acknowledge that he heard it and understood that Marshall believed it.

Yes, I know you have explained this to me several times. The government and several other governments around the world have secretly been bargaining with an alien entity in regards to our planet and the future of the human race.

Today I want to look into your thoughts and feelings on this. Now I want you to understand I am not taking sides in this pretrial evaluation, so feel free to tell me what ever is on your mind. Your thoughts, your feelings, what motivates you and ultimately what motivated you in the end.

Marshall stood and walked over to the window. The answers that this man wanted would sound so unbelievable and fantastic to almost any sane person. However, the truth of the matter was it wouldn’t matter. The senator was dead and he was the scapegoat. They knew the senator was working to expose them and that meant he was a liability. The doctor had already heard this story a thousand times. Marshall wasn’t going to tell the story all over again. He was guilty until proven innocent, and the cards were stacked against him. If the time tables and predictions were correct then soon it wouldn’t matter any ways. The incursion was about to begin.

It really doesn’t matter doc, what I tell you. In the end you will believe what you want until you have no other choice. Marshall paused as he thought how to proceed in a coherent manner.  He would tell the doctor exactly what he wanted to hear, the truth.

The human race is egotistical to the core, for ages we thought we were the center of the universe. Marshall turned from the window and faced the doctor. The excitement in his eyes could be seen from across the room.

Go on Marshall, this is exactly what I’m talking about. I want you to simply let go and lower your guard and tell me your story. Do not leave out any details or thoughts. Retrain your emotions to allow you to see the root of your beliefs. Dr Kalsdin prompted him to continue. He wrote feverishly trying to notate Marshall’s words, manners and actions with as much clarity as possible. The very nature of what Marshall was telling him was already opening up an entire view into the mind of his patient.

Are you a religious man doctor?

I consider myself a man of faith if that’s what you mean. The doctor answered, noting Marshall’s sudden change of focus. Taking the focus off of him and projecting the conversation towards another. He needed to guide him back.

So were you religiously motivated? Are you trying to tell me God told you to commit these crimes? The harsh disapproving tone in the doctor’s voice was not missed by Marshall.

No doc, this has nothing to do with God, at least not in the sense you are suggesting. I'm trying to make a point here. Marshall sighed. He felt like an adult trying to explain the simplest of things to a stubborn child. The refusal to believe was a shroud that encompassed the mind and protected it from dealing with things that it was not prepared to deal with. Marshall knew that was what he was dealing with, he faced it himself when he learned the truth.

Do you truly believe that God would create a vast universe full of mystery and beauty and thousands upon billions of stars and galaxies and then make life only possible here on this little dirt ball of a planet? 

Marshall’s question once again confused the doctor. Nothing seemed connected every question and statement he was making pointed in several different directions at once. It was as if his psychosis was splintering off into any direction his imagination dared venture at any moment. As if his mind was at the whim of mere fantasy. The most puzzling part was Marshall showed no sign of derangement or paranoia that most subjects would. Instead he appeared frustrated, it seemed he was fighting against something and trying to sum up a much larger story in mere moments.

"Such things are better left to theologians and scholars. Their time is much better suited to debating such things. Our