Our Time Is Near

By W. Heyden Nissim

Meet Jake Randall.
Author. Divorcee. New to Los Angeles. Jake was about to begin a new life in the City of Angels. He was anxious to leave his troubles behind. Little did he know, his life was about to take an unexpected turn.

Twenty years in the future, a resistance fighter makes his way through an abandoned industrial park in the Los Angeles Sector. His mission: create a portal to the past and locate the One who could deliver their message. Unbeknownst to Jake, a wormhole has been ported to his new home and a mechanized probe emerges from the rift to beckon him. In time, Jake uncovers this passageway and ends up in a vastly darker world than the one he left behind.

Once in the future, his guide introduces Jake to a New World Order. On the surface, everyday life in 2040 appears orderly and harmonious. Just beneath this thin veil of utopia lies an evil empire bent on global domination. With every day that passes, Jake comes to realize his true purpose. In this new world, he becomes part of the underground resistance – one that is fighting for the truth.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: May 14, 2020
• ISBN: 9781663200099

W. Heyden Nissim

I've written over 17 globally published articles, a graduate thesis, and published two business books. In this first fiction book, I've taken my life experience and love for science fiction and created a story that I believe to be compelling and intraspective. My life long ambition was always to write a fiction novel. In this forum, you have the latitude to create things, places, and events that do not exist today. I live in Southern California with my family.

Book preview

Los Angeles, California

August 2020

A beige Mercedes drifts to the curb and comes to a smooth stop. A rental car followed suit and pulled in snugly behind it. Both doors opened simultaneously, and the occupants make their way to the curb. A woman expressively chatted with the man while pointing at the house as they ascended the brick stairs that led to the front porch.

She wore a soft, yellow Chanel business suit and carried a stylish leather attaché case. Her thick blond hair was pulled back and accessorized neatly with a bow, clearly exposing her high cheekbones. Her athletic build and confident approach had been crafted from many years of running during and after college. In addition to her stunning appearance, her demeanor was very professional. Ann Clark had been a realtor for ten years; for her, this was just another day of showing homes to well qualified, potential clients. As they neared the Colonial-style home, she paused to point out the features of the beautifully manicured front lawn. Speaking in regulated clarity, she occasionally eyed the man standing beside her, struggling to gauge his initial reaction to this million-dollar home. Unable to discern his body language, she turned toward the door and continued her spiel.

They climbed the remaining brick steps and approached the freshly painted double doors. She searched her coat pocket for her cell phone while carrying on the selling process; never missing a beat. She held down a key on her phone and beamed a code to the lock box. An electro-mechanical device instantly sprang open, revealed the house key, and they were inside the house a few seconds later.

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Jake Randall appreciated her professionalism and could sense her integrity. From the moment they met, he mentally constructed a character profile on Ann Clark. To him, the personality of each person was like a jigsaw puzzle, and Ann’s was falling into place very quickly. She was confident and experienced. Jake liked that.

This was the first home he had looked at since arriving in Los Angeles just a few days ago. Ann had sent him several listing sheets and floor plans prior to their meeting today. He followed her footsteps, showed interest when she spoke, and was very attentive during the highlights of her presentation. Her skillful sales ability gingerly mixed personal charm with a hint of strategic selling. He was being drawn, almost seductively, to a purchasing decision.

Ann started in the marble entry way, led him through the living room, past the formal dining area, and stopped in the kitchen. Since the house was constructed in the early sixties, most rooms were large, but the paneling and carpets were dark. They strolled into the brightly lit kitchen that had been newly remodeled which included a greenhouse window over the stainless-steel sink and an island in the center. The floor was the same white marble used in the entry. The white cabinetry was obviously new, as were the granite counter tops and stainless-steel appliances. Adjacent to the kitchen was a roomy breakfast nook and, beyond that, a large family room. Jake leaned against the island and absently ran his fingernails along the seemingly cold granite while he thought.

I’m looking for approximately 3,500 square feet, he said, without looking directly at her.

Uhmmmm, Ann paused as she searched the listing for more details.

According to the seller, this home has 3600 square feet, but in the listing....it shows 3590. Ann rustled through several more papers and then turned to Jake.

I’ll check with the seller to find out which is correct. She scratched a few notes down as she walked to the other end of the kitchen. Ann glanced up and flashed him a quick smile. As always, Ann assured her clients that things were being handled.

Jake smiled, because she was obviously working so hard to convince him this was indeed the right home. Yup, he answered, it’s just the right size. He liked what he had seen thus far, and it matched his perceptions; Ann had already sent him the builder’s blueprint. Where is the den, he asked, knowing she was more than eager to show him.

Ann led the way. After passing through the living room, she once again crossed the entryway and stood before freshly painted French doors. She mischievously turned about and smiled as she firmly gripped a pair of brass doorknobs from behind. Keeping her eyes steady with his, she slowly stepped toward him, opening the doors in a ceremonious fashion.

Turning on her heel, she entered the darkened den and approached a series of windows. Since the house was vacant, the only available lighting was the hazy L.A. sunshine. As the blinds were raised in unison, she closely watched his reaction to the room, knowing this was the make or break of the sale.

I understand you had quite a nice office in your last residence. I’m pretty certain a comfortable, relaxing environment such as this one will be important to you? She gracefully walked to the opposite side of the room and then paused. With outstretched hands, she abruptly turned towards him. Jake…this IS a great, creative space – a wonderful view, spacious, she then pointed to the corners of the room, and plenty of outlets for office equipment.

Jake smiled as if he was surrendering to her. Yes, I agree.

Ann’s intuition paid off. She knew this room was an important component to the ultimate sale. Experience taught her that for every homebuyer, there usually is one. This was a ‘people’ business - people buy from people they like. She watched him circle the room, stopping occasionally to touch the grass cloth wallpaper. He went to the window and gazed outside for several seconds without comment.

He finally turned around and faced her. Let’s see the second floor.

In unison, they exited the den and proceeded up the staircase to a broad landing that led to the master bedroom.

A hidden closet that was inconspicuously connected to the den was devoid of light. The only sound echoed from the second story beams that moaned beneath their weight. Suddenly, a small portion of the closet wall began to dimly pulsate in the surrounding darkness. Wisps of water vapor leached from the wall and microscopic bubbles dimpled its surface. As the pulsations grew in intensity, an ominous circle began to form, which swirled around in unnatural colors. The texture of the wall gradually transformed from a rigid structure to a gelatinous state. As the surface contorted and sparked with electricity, a tarnished metal globe emerged from the wall.

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The sound of micro gears echoed in the closet as a tiny mechanical hatch swung open on the globe’s surface. From its innards, six spider-shaped legs flowed outward and made contact with the adjacent wall. The globe pulled itself from the pliable surface, and once free, it carefully maneuvered along the wall and towards the ceiling. When it reached its destination, a metallic shutter swirled opened and a blue beam projected across the interior closet doors. At the same time, one side of the globe parted, and several antennas emerged from its mechanical belly.

The spider legs simultaneously spun at great speed and bored into the closet ceiling, thereby pulling the globe tightly against its surface. Low-level Alpha waves pulsed from the antenna towards the master bedroom above and targeted the occipital lobe of the brain. At the same time, a sensor reached out and sampled the chemical and material composition of the adjoining area. Once the transmissions commenced, the tarnished metal object transformed into the shape of an ordinary wooden beam to disguise itself.

Ann felt a rush of relief. She was inching closer to the sale. After visiting the four bedrooms on the second floor, they ended the tour in the entryway. She wanted a commitment from him, but wasn’t sure of her approach, because his style seemed overly confident and secretive. He had a smile on his face that reminded her of a cat that just ate a mouse. It bugged her.

From the smile on your face, I guess you have something intriguing on your mind. Ann flashed him a huge smile, hoping it would help cinch the sale.

Here’s the deal...I like the house. Jake glanced around the room. The den fits my needs as well. I’m just concerned about the age of the home. Its sixty-odd years old and I know it needs work. I also know about the housing glut, and by the looks of the MLS listing, this house has been on the market for thirteen months. In essence, I think the $997K asking price is a bit high.

I can understand your concerns. She suddenly felt the deal slipping through her fingers.

How motivated are the sellers? he inquired.

They paid off the mortgage years ago, so they’re not really in any rush to sell. On the other hand, they are retired, and want to unburden their lives with maintaining this place. You know…with the grounds, both front and back, and having to keep an eye on the place. They are living with their son temporarily, so the house is always available to show.

I’m a decisive man. I bought my last home before the models were built - from an artist’s rendering and floor plan. On the flight out here, I knew this was the place. Jake reached into his sport coat and produced an envelope. Simply put, here is my offer.

You know I have to talk with the sellers and..., She stammered, knowing she had lost control of the situation. She tried to regain her composure, feeling a sense of both shock and delight at the same time. She slowly took the envelop from his hand and without looking down, reached in and removed the check. I will be more than happy to call the sellers with any counteroffer which is reasonable.

Ann stood still for a moment, surprised by this calculated turn of events and then looked down at her watch. She wasn’t sure if her clients would be home at this hour. With the offer and phone in hand, Ann paused briefly to draw a mental presentation to the sellers.

Jake could hear her talking from the living room and knew when to make his entrance. How did it go?

Fantastic! I mean, they thought the offer was reasonable and want move forward with the sale. He watched with delight as she attempted to hold back the exhilaration of an instant sale. Ann slowly pulled out a document from her attaché and placed it on the stack of papers she held.

They both smiled at each other for a few, uneasy seconds. This moment almost seemed anti-climactic. He was now a homeowner, and she, a small fortune in commission. Her eyes dropped to the paperwork and she quickly filled in the essential information. Briefly, he watched her intense expression and wondered what she was really like - away from work. As he glanced up and over her right shoulder, something caught his eye.

Ann was elated at the instant sale and slightly miffed that she didn’t get to show off her negotiation skills. Stepping forward to shake his hand, she noticed he was now staring into the den. Is there a problem? she asked, as her eyes slowly followed his gaze. The marble floor of the entry way ran for ten feet and ended at the double French doors that led into the formal den. Beyond the door, shadows darkened the room, except for the small ray of sunlight that graced the wall. Ann stared at the wall and then quickly looked back at Jake.

The sight transfixed him. His eyes raced from the center of the room to the ceiling, then back to the floor. Jake tried to make sense of it. He stood captured by the apparition, analyzing and re-evaluating what had just occurred.

A sudden flash, shimmering waves, and the light, he surmised.

It happened so quickly. He tilted his head lethargically to the left, as if in slow motion, and noticed the inquisitive look on the realtor’s face.

Is there something wrong? she politely asked once again.

He slowly turned back to the den, and this lapse melded back into real time. Well, I guess not. I thought...I saw something. He felt his forehead with the tips of his fingers and then glared at the perspiration that clung to his palm.

A refection of light, he softly whispered to himself.

Her eyes purposefully dropped to the floor saving him from this slightly embarrassing moment. The awkward moment subsided. They quickly exchanged property and headed for the door. Jake reached for the brass handle.

I believe our work here is complete....and congratulations on the sale. Jake said as he opened the door for her. Thanks for all your help.

No. Thank you, Mr. Randall. The pleasure was all mine! Ann shook his hand, gathered together her paperwork placing it under one arm, and walked out with him to the front porch. The sudden exhilaration of a sale finally sank in, and she could feel the rush of adrenaline pulsate through her body.

I will complete the necessary paperwork, have Mr. Rice sign his copy, and drop off yours next week. Once the check clears, escrow will only take a few days. Also, I will have termite and roof inspection later this week. I have your number at the hotel if I have any questions. So, I guess, She paused, slowing down, ... I will talk with you later? It was nice meeting you and I do appreciate the business." She briefly paused halfway down the steps and flashed him a smile, then almost skipped back to her car.

Jake watched her wave from the driver’s seat, and his eyes followed as she sped away from the curb. He turned back toward the house and caressed the front door gently with one hand.

"Welcome home, Jake," he whispered to himself. He turned and walked down the remaining steps, slid into the rental car, and with one last look at his new home, slowly drove away.

Sunday

The morning sun advanced across the sheets of the bed and into Jake’s eyes. He attempted to block it by pulling the pillow over his face. Within a few moments, birds from near-by tree starting chirping, and he knew it was all over. His first night in his new home was uneventful. He stumbled out of bed, and sluggishly walked to the bathroom, banging the light switch with his fist and resting both hands on the sink. He turned the faucet knob and watched the cool water fill the basin. Slowly raising his head, he looked deeply into the mirror, staring at the bags under his eyes.

You don’t look so good my friend, he sighed, as he splashed cold water in his face. Between jet lag and the many details, he covered in the last few weeks before moving to Los Angeles, he was worn down. Dragging the white T-shirt across his wet face, he turned and made his way downstairs to the kitchen for coffee.

Pausing momentarily in the hallway, he surveyed the mountain of boxes that surrounded him. Stepping over several smaller containers, he made his way into the kitchen and searched the assortment of boxes until he found the one marked coffee maker. Jake unpacked the necessary items, and within ten minutes, had a pot of hot coffee brewing.

The smell of gourmet coffee soon filled the room. He leaned against the kitchen sink, with his eyes closed, and arms folded together. This was his morning wake-up routine while he waited for his espresso coffee maker to do its business. The gurgling noise at the end of the brew cycle finally prompted him to pour his first cup.

Jake took his coffee mug back upstairs to the master bedroom and began rummaging through a heap of boxes lining the far wall. He wondered where to start. Since there was no clear path from one end of the room to the other, he kicked the closest box and watched it slide across the floor. He then began methodically unpacking his clothes, hanging slacks, folding shirts and sweaters. In the process, he stripped off his boxers and white T-shirt and donned khaki shorts from L.L. Bean and an old college sweatshirt. Moving from clothing to toiletries, he busily filled the medicine cabinet, without regard for order or need. His zeal for neatness waned as he moved to each successive box.

He spent the balance of the early morning unpacking his belongings. After completing his bedroom, he proceeded to the kitchen for a re-fill. Standing in the entry hall allowed him a view of the entire lower floor. The walls were lined with boxes upon boxes, creating an artificial horizon from the kitchen to the den. A sense of duty for his work drove him to his next assignment. He walked across the cold, marble floor and, using his elbow to brace his coffee mug, opened the French doors that led into his den. Where do I start, he thought, as he scanned the clutter that would soon serve as his center of creativity?

As the morning progressed, Jake had the furniture in place and was neatly sorting through papers and letters. He organized several stacks of documents and placed them around him until all remaining free space in the den was gone. As he begun to unpack the next box, he glanced around the room to find an empty space, but there was none within reach. He noticed his desk was clear and lifted the massive letters from the box and placed it to the right of his lamp. He grabbed a second set of letters, and as he lifted it towards the center, something caught his attention.

Jake slowly lowered them back into the box and navigated around the desk until he was in front of the west-facing wall. Sunshine poured through the open window and cast a thin shadow along a depression in the surface. Kneeling beside the wall, he ran his fingers along this vertical crease. A variety of thoughts, in successive waves, passed through his mind as his fingers hovered above this imperfection. Moving away from the wall, he settled comfortably on the hardwood floor to think. He noticed the crease ran from the floor to within inches of the textured ceiling. He sat motionless for a few minutes, perplexed and confused, while considering this odd revelation. Satisfied with his investigation, he pushed himself off the floor and began to pace around the room while unconsciously rubbing his chin. He always enjoyed a good mystery and took time to let this new discovery sink in. He lifted his mug from the desk as he walked back and stared at the crease in the wallpaper through the steam that rose from his favorite Bavarian blend.

A familiar chirping noise from the other room broke his concentration. Jake turned away from this puzzlement, set his mug down on corner of the desk, and jogged into the entryway. Lying upside down on the bottom stair was his cell phone. He scooped up it up and pressed the green button.

Randall here. Jake glanced back at the den and studied the wall from a distance.

You sound pretty chipper today, a female voice replied in a groggy voice.

Same old criticism, he thought. Hearing from his ex-wife on this particular day wasn’t exactly what he needed. Prior to the call he was in a relatively good mood. He knew she would cast a wet blanket on the day.

Aren’t you getting up a bit late? Jake pulled up his sleeve and glanced at his watch. It’s what...11:30 Eastern time?

Yes...and why should that concern you? Her tone was clearly sarcastic. She hesitated, then in a softer voice, continued. Sorry. I was up late and had a tough client meeting yesterday. She paused. How have you been, Jake?

Actually, I’m doing fine. He waited briefly for a reaction. I was just setting up my office when you called.

So... did you rent a place overlooking the ocean or something with a little more panache?

No. Nothing that exciting, just a boring colonial home in the burbs.

His mind began to drift. In New York City, they briefly lived in an apartment that her father owned. It was above Park Avenue and occupied roughly half of the top floor of a small building. In the streets below were all the activity and excitement any person could ask for. During their six years marriage, he’d never seen her so happy. After a job change, they regretfully moved to Boston for two years. That’s when the marriage took a turn for the worse.

Jake. Jake. Are you still there?

Oh, sorry. Her voice brought back memories of so many good times. Jake felt, for a few seconds, he was back in that dark, damp apartment in NYC.

Well, I wasn’t planning on chewing up your cell bill. I called to remind you of your appointment with Tom today. She hesitated, and then continued. We may not be married anymore, but I still hold interest in your last project. Remember?

Yes, Doreen. I wouldn’t dream of depriving you of your court ordered percentage.

Don’t be so cynical. That’s my job.

Yeah, no reminders necessary. Listen, I’ve got a ton of unpacking still to do, so if you don’t mind...

Sure. Her voice melted into a softer, more seductive tone. Ah, just one more thing, she paused until his quickened breath was audible. I’m not wearing anything except a silk bed sheet. Do anything for you? Jake began to imagine her well-toned, tan body lying across the bed with a phone in hand. Her full lips, green eyes, and wavy brunette hair streaming down the pillowcase and...

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Jake felt something cold from behind. His senses went into overdrive. Refraining from any movement, his hearing finely tuned to the area just outside his visual sight. He slowly moved the phone from his ear and cautiously turned about. His eyes narrowed and searched beyond the doorway. Something moved in there, he thought. At first, both legs wouldn’t obey his command to move. As he crept forward, his eyes darted back and forth, wary of every movement. Upon reaching the doorframe, he surveyed the den, peering from left to right.

Jake. Are you still there? He carefully raised the phone to his ear as he continued scanning the room.

Yeah, hang on a minute. Suddenly the drapes near the window flared up as a gust of wind shot through the room. Several papers rustled across the desk,