Progeny's Promise, The Apocalypse Revelation

By Kenneth Wick

A Secret Service agent burst through the door into the Oval office and pushed his way through the crowded room to the President's side. Bending low, he whispered into the President's ear, "Madam President, NASA reports we have visitors on the Moon."

Moments later, strong gusts of wind blew about the South Lawn, blowing leaves and small tree branches against the Oval Office windows. Secret Service agents started yelling, their guard dogs barking. President Hunter, the first black female President of the United States, saw looks of amazement from her people as they gazed past her out the windows. She rose from her desk and turned around in time to see a gleaming white, oval-shaped object, materialize into view. Twice as tall as the agents surrounding it, the object hovered motionless above the lawn.

The secret service rushed to get President Hunter to the war room bunker. She refused and stepped outside. In her mind a distant thought formed, I am here in peace, for Earth. A seamless opening appeared and a tall slender being stepped through, descending to the White House lawn. “President Hunter, my name is Cyrhion,” he said in perfect English. “I am the Lumien Master Steward of this galaxy. I am here because Earth is dying.”

“Wha..what do you mean, dying?” she said.
“Earth’s temperatures are soaring out of control. Her bio systems are shutting down and soon will be unable to evolve in time to correct the imbalances. She will continue the struggle for survival, but when her interior temperatures exceed the critical stage the planet will begin expanding at an accelerated rate. The crust and mantle will develop fracture openings along all existing fault structures. The interior magma will erupt through these fractures, shrinking the atmosphere to a mere veil. Her interior heat will escape to space, the core will freeze and Earth will die.”
General Abramson, the Air Force commander stepped forward. “What a load of malarkey, God created this planet and all the heavens around us. This planet is a gift to all mankind, to do with as we please, and if there is any need for planet saving to be done, the Lord Almighty shall come forth and replenish His Earth, with goodness and bounty for all His children.”

“Your God did not create this planet, General, and cannot save it...only I can.” Cyrhion said.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kenneth Wick
• Release date: Dec 17, 2021
• ISBN: 9781540610737

Kenneth Wick

4th Generation Montanan. Descendant of 19th century Norwegian homesteaders, farm and ranch heritage. Army veteran. Forever awestruck by the mysteries of nature and the cosmos. A devout Humanist, lover of my wife, good red wine and puppies.Kenneth and his wife Daun live and play in the Rocky Mountains of Montana.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

She knew she was dying.

All she had created, sustained and nurtured would die with her. The disease she'd suffered for centuries had advanced beyond containment. Systems designed to stabilize abnormalities were breaking down faster than others could evolve to repair the damage. The trend could not be stopped.

She wept.

Not for herself.

For her children.

She cried out to the only entity that could save them.

DAY 1

1

THE TRUCK'S HEADLIGHTS bounced in the cold pre-dawn hours as it traveled the dirt roads of an oilfield spread across the rolling prairie of western North Dakota. In all directions, methane gas from the oil wells, burning bright atop huge flare stacks, shimmered in the dark countryside like a thousand candles in a cave.

Nathan Bishop, a production supervisor, followed the road to a ten-acre gravel wellsite. A sign at the entrance proclaimed this pad to be the sole property of ProMax Energy Corporation and only authorized personnel permitted beyond this point. He drove onto the pad past eight massive pumping units, their rocking beams creaking and groaning from the heavy strain of lifting crude oil from deep underground. The slow moving units glistened under the pad's tall flare tower as it roared out huge flames and black smoke, casting an eerie candescent light floating out across the nearby ripened wheat fields.

Nathan got out of his truck and walked toward the main control panel with the slow gait of a large man. He stopped for a moment and looked about with a hardened frown earned from years spent in the harsh North Dakota environment. The Northern Lights danced overhead when he glimpsed small blue lights moving along the faint horizon. He watched as they grew dim, then disappear.

Opening a frost-covered panel door, he hesitated a brief moment to glance again toward the row of pumping units. He focused his gaze on each unit as he studied the pumps. The noise seemed different this morning. Shrugging off the cold he turned back to the panel, plugged his tablet into an interface and began downloading the daily production data from the wells. The noise grew louder.

He looked up in time to see one of the unit's electric motors explode, fire and sparks shooting into the night air.

Nathan hit the manual kill switch for the unit, grabbed a fire extinguisher and ran toward the burning motor. He had run but a few steps when more units began screeching and exploding, some breaking the sucker rods connected to the pump thousands of feet below ground. Released from the strain, the units' lifting beams shot up, and broke free from their mounts. Like dominoes, they fell onto other units.

Shattered steel fragments blasted like shrapnel through the air. Nathan fell to the ground, a shaft of jagged steel sticking out of his leg. The white-hot fragments ripped holes in the 400-barrel storage tanks lining the edge of the pad. Burning crude oil sprayed out and the ignited oil raced to the other punctured tanks down the line.

Nathan tried to get up, but fell again as explosions shook the Earth. Leaving a trail of glistening blood, he crawled to his truck and pulled himself inside just as another storage tank exploded. Burning crude oil from the ruptured tanks breached the containment berm surrounding the storage area and spread out across the pad. The fire raced toward the truck, blocking the exit. Crouching low behind the wheel, Nathan gunned the engine and blasted through the wall of fire and out to the road.

Flames poured from the tires and the back of the truck. He leapt out, hit the roadside and rolled in the dirt. Screaming from pain, he looked up in time to see the truck become a careening fireball, rolling into the grain field and exploding, spreading fire throughout the ripened wheat.

Two miles away a chain of explosions rocked another pad. Far off toward the faint horizon more pads flashed bright in the night.

With burnt hands, Nathan managed to call the operations center. He yelled into the phone, telling the operator to shut off all electrical power to every pad in the field. Knowing the operator would have little success, he dialed 911 and passed out.

He came to lying on a stretcher in an ambulance as paramedics treated his injuries. Glancing outside, he saw a surreal war zone with smoke darkened skies over what earlier had been peaceful prairie. Lights from fire trucks and emergency response vehicles flashed through the haze, dancing off twisted metal and smoldering hulks of exploded storage tanks. In the distance he could see fires on other pads burning with huge plumes of black smoke fanning out into wind swept tendrils.

All wells were supposed to have emergency surface shutdown systems, including SSSV's, subsurface safety valves, designed to close if something happened outside of the parameters of normal operations. Had they been installed, none of this would have happened. The oil company Nathan worked for had refused to install them, stating the valves weren't necessary, even though they were required by law.

Nathan frowned. How could all the wells in this field pull tight and blow up at the same time? Corporate sabotage? He shook his head. Maybe. But if it's sabotage, it had to be a massive operation and would've required a huge coordinated effort.

Nathan's phone buzzed alive with a call from Joe, the control center operator.

Sorry, man, Joe said. I tried everything to shut it down. Nothing worked.

Yeah, I figured there'd be a small chance of it. Thanks for trying.

My phones have been going crazy. Wells all over the country are shutting down from overload. So far none of the other companies' wells have exploded. Their safety systems all worked like they're supposed to, Nathan. Our production manager is freaking out, called a thousand times. I don't know what to tell him. He's batshit crazy over this. He'll be looking for you next.

Later, man. I have a call. Probably him.

Nathan told Mike, the production manager, his best recollection of the night's events. The manager had been a political hire, somebody's brother-in-law, with little knowledge of field operations, but good at golf and expense accounts.

What the hell am I going to tell the office? Mike said.

Just tell them what I told you. The truth. Nobody knows what this is yet. How could anyone know?

The country's gone on military alert, DEFCON whatever. I've been told to stay in the office. I can't go home. Who's going to feed the cats?

Yep, bat shit crazy, Nathan thought.

You have some serious burns, Mr. Bishop, the paramedic said. We have to get you to the hospital ASAP.

"I have to go, Mike. Sooner or later, we'll have an idea what caused this. Probably just some freak of nature. Pull out that bottle of scotch you have stashed in your desk and throw the cap away.

2

THE PROMAX ENERGY EMPIRE began in the barren wastelands in western Oklahoma. The first successful ProMax well still produced oil as it rocked up and down in the central courtyard of the ProMax World Energy headquarters complex. A circular building with aging white columns standing guard around the outside, they came together in the front forming a dark yawning entrance. Towering above the entrance, the owner's offices and suites stared out through dark tinted windows. An ancient drilling derrick stood in front of the structure with gas from the courtyard well spewing flame and smoke from the top of the derrick's crown section.

When Dick and Colin Baines took over the empire after their father, Maxwell, had died, they christened their new building The Crown. To the people working inside with the constant stench of the well's crude oil, it became known as the Crude Palace.

Dr. Jessica Mayers leaned over her desk in a small cubicle, studying 3-D seismic charts spread out before her. She had been working on her reservoir analysis from the latest data of a new oil field discovery for two days.

She sat back in her chair and rested her eyes for a brief moment, then grabbed her cup and headed for the snack room. An athletically fit thirty-two year old mother of two with a PhD in Geophysics and a master's in Reservoir Engineering, Jessica held the Senior Geophysicist position for the ProMax Company. She had a hint of a smile as she walked toward the snack room knowing the young engineers in the department followed her every step.

Would you like some more coffee, Henry? she said as she passed the Senior Geologist's cubicle.

Yes, I would, Henry Adams said, and grabbed his pipe and cup. And a smoke.

One of these days the Baines boys are going to move you and your smelly old pipe into the parking lot beside the dumpster.

She loved the old man. Henry, along with her father, James Bishop, and his brother, Nathan Bishop, had been with ProMax since the beginning of the company. They had all been inseparable friends. James and Henry worked as the company's exploration Geologists and Nathan as a wellsite maintenance supervisor.

Jessica's father had been killed by a Hydrogen Sulfide gas leak at a ProMax well location when she and her twin brother, Jason, were three years old. Henry felt if he had been there, Jessica’s father might still be alive. Nathan had been in the field that day and arrived at the well soon after the ProMax emergency crews had secured the well. He found his brother lying at the edge of the location in a body bag.

Since Jessica's father had been a widower, Nathan and his wife raised the twins. The Baines brothers made sure the twins were well taken care of and provided the best education for them. With that help, Jessica earned her PhD and MSc, and Jason, with the brother's influence, attended the Air Force Academy. The Baines were pleased that Jessica had followed in her father’s footsteps, and were very proud of Jason, a Colonel in the Air Force with many combat tours, and now one of the Air Forces' best test pilots.

I’d like to see the sons of bitches try, Henry said.

You should be more careful, Henry, Jessica said. The brothers aren’t going to put up with your disrespect forever.

Indulgence has always been one of their better virtues and I’m going to make them indulge all they can, Henry said. Helps build character.

As he poured some coffee into Jessica’s cup, his mobile blurted out the 'Star Wars' theme song. Checking the message from Nathan, Henry frowned when he saw Call me now.

What do you think of the shale layers in the 3D data showing it below the salt cap in the new Los Papos field? Jessica said

The oil’s there, Henry said, clicking on a contact in his phone. I’ve always known it. It'll be a huge discovery for ProMax.

Well, money for them turns into bonuses for us, doesn’t it?

Not always. Perpetual paranoia costs a lot of money.

What do you know that I don’t, you sly old dog? Jessica said.

Henry frowned as he listened to the caller on his phone.

Are you sure it's all the wells, Nathan? Henry said.

Jessica heard her uncle's name and stepped closer to Henry.

Yes, it's confirmed, Nathan said. I've talked to some of the other lease operators, they all say the same thing. The oil can't be pumped. It's as if something is seizing the pump rods downhole like the oil turned into concrete. I've heard it's also happening in other parts of the country. Can you check our operations in Texas and overseas? Let me know what you find out.

Get some rest. I'll call later.

He put the phone down, a stunned look on his face.

What's wrong, Henry? Jessica said. Is Uncle Nathan okay?

Henry told Jessica what he knew, adding that her uncle had been injured.

Oh My God! Is he alright?

Yes. He'll be in hospital for a few days, but the doctors say he should recover without problems.

Star Wars chimed. Some of Henry's colleagues reported similar circumstances around the globe, crude oil couldn't be pumped to the surface. Even wells with high down hole pressures that forced the oil to the surface without pumping assistance had stopped. Worldwide oil production had come to standstill.

Henry and Jessica looked at each other in silence as the consequences of a total shutdown of oil production started to sink in.

I know of nothing that could cause this, Henry said. The 3D seismic we shot in the Los Papos field last week. Let's shoot it again, right now.

Henry called the seismic company and talked with the field supervisor.

Their equipment is still in the field. They can shoot a half dozen one mile lines and give us some good data to correlate with what we have.

We should get samples of the last oil pumped to the surface, Jessica said. Five or six samples from each well before production stopped, going back at least two weeks,

The country tries to maintain fifty to sixty days of oil stored at surface, Henry said. Maybe ten extra days with severe rationing. We need a fix soon. The US has 800 million barrels in the Strategic Oil Reserve that'll help. We've been pumping imported oil into those salt caves for decades.

Hopefully we can pump it out, Jessica said, reaching for her phone.

She listened in silence, then, The DOE just put out a bulletin, she said. As of the last twenty-four hours, all the injection wells at the Reserve are plugged up. They can't pump oil into the Reserve, or out of it. Above ground storage is all we have and the government has commandeered all of it for national defense. The National Guard is mobilizing to secure all the refineries and pipelines.

Damn, this is bizarre, Henry said. I'll check in with more of my old colleagues. See what I can find out. Remember to call Nathan, Jess.

Right. I need to call Matt first, check on the home front.

Is Matt still having trouble tying his apron knots? Henry said, stoking his pipe.

He learned knots faster than you learned how to Google, you old coot.

Henry chuckled as he walked back to his desk, billowing smoke obscuring the No Smoking sign.

Matt answered the phone.

Hi, Honey.

Jessica told her husband of six years all she knew and said she would be working late. Matt understood, telling her their three-year-old twin daughters were okay and he had some landing gear design work left to do.

The perfect stay at home dad, as an Aeronautical Engineer and Air Force Academy graduate, he did consultant work for the Air Force designing future jet fighters. Jessica didn't know of his true mission as the chief design engineer of the Hyperion Drive propulsion system for the top secret experimental Aurora Space plane project. Or his connection with the Defense Intelligence Agency.

3

THE GREEN PLANET circled an isolated micro-star system located on the edge of the Great Rift boundary within the Milky Way galaxy. The star's only planet had three rings and two moons. The rings radiated bright reflections from the nearby small sun. A faint blue force field emitted from the massive space station forming the outer most ring. Galactic vessels flitted about the ring like fireflies as they traveled to and from the station.

Observatories and spaceports protruded far out from the space station's edge. The largest observatory, itself the size of a small moon, served as the command center of the space station. A tall solitary being stood at the outer limit of the center's force field, as if floating alone in space, gazing at the galaxy's billions of stars spread out before him. Other beings behind the figure bustled about within a huge 3D holographic display of the galaxy and its star systems, their long almost translucent fingers dancing across the hologram, pausing over stars which then enlarged into separate holograms. As each system materialized, reams of data flowed across the display recording the unique life forces of the sun and planets making up the star system.

Of the billions of star systems, a sparse few thousand supported some form of intelligent life, each distinct from the others in varying stages of intellectual evolution. Many with advanced civilizations traveling the galaxy and others in primal birth.

The beings who commanded this space station were Lumiens, the first sentient species born after the creation of the universe. This ancient race evolved over billions of years for the sole purpose of protecting galaxies and life sustaining planets. Star systems, like all life in the universe, lived and died, some from cataclysmic events, such as collisions with other bodies or the star exhausting its hydrogen needed for fusion. As systems aged, the planets circling its star also died from natural causes, their cores cooling to become a frozen rock. However, there were rare instances when a planet succumbed from activities by its prime inhabitants. Usually from a deviation in the natural evolution of the dominate species.

As new galaxies formed, Lumiens would occupy a ringed planet within the particular galaxy, transforming the rings into a massive space station. Here on this planet they named Luma, the near immortal Lumiens coexisted with the stars and planets, their life force in symbiotic fusion with that of the Milky Way galaxy itself.

Lord Steward, we have a distress message.

Cyrhion turned and with long graceful strides walked inside the galaxy hologram to the flashing distress message displayed in front of the technician.

Location?

There, My Lord. In the outer rim of the galaxy.

The technician zoomed into the galaxy hologram to a star with a red ring highlighted around it. The system enlarged on a planet in the sun's solar system. The planet's life force status formed on the display and showed data of its climatic conditions, atmospheric variations, geological temperatures, core integrity and crust activity. A healthy planet's life force glowed with a green hue, as did seven of the eight planets in the solar system. The third planet from its sun glowed orange, indicating an asymmetrical imbalance of the life force of that planet.

Cyrhion knew well this young planet. Just four and a half billion years old, its present dominant species had first walked upright 200,000 of its years from present time and had begun to advance intellectually after the planet's last ice age 11,700 years ago. An industrious species, it became the first in the planet's history to alter the environmental balance. As the technician highlighted and magnified the planet, a great sadness came over Cyrhion. The disease, first appearing 2500 years earlier, had progressed to its critical phase in the last 200 years, and evolved beyond the planet’s ability to sustain its ecosystem. The planet had reached bio-stasis, and could no longer repair the damage.

Core death is imminent, he thought.

The Lumiens had been monitoring this planet closely for many millenniums. They had deployed an advanced surveillance team to observe the dominate species' symbiotic relationship with its host planet. The team had reported the species' intellectual evolution had deviated from the inherent pathways of universal norms. The inhabitants had failed to fulfill the critical role as stewards of their planet.

Cyrhion closed his eyes and stood in silence. One of his most beautiful planets cried out for help. The planet told him of its plight. Of a vicious disease spreading across its surface, affecting all life forms. Predominate species were being decimated, and disappearing at alarming rates. Dependent life forms had become unable to replenish their role as inherent life sustaining entities. Visions of near-future events of the blue planet's beautiful seas dying from lack of oxygen cascaded through Cyrhion's mind. Massive storms and roving oceanic hot spots leaving swathes of decaying sea life washed onshore by the billions from ever rising shorelines.

They are killing their planet.

As the symptoms of planet bio-stasis worsened, Cyrhion had initiated preliminary stages of Lumien Planetary Quarantine Protocol to slow the disease. He now realized that effort had failed. The disease advanced out of control.

Cyrhion paused a moment in pensive silence. The most beautiful are the most fragile.

Contact the Commander on that planet.

A hologram formed into view before Cyrhion. The life size image of a well-muscled man, clad in dark protective armor, appeared and turned to face the Lumien. From an ancient race known as Jovarens, Commander Koden had humanoid features betrayed only by his elongated pupils.

The Lumiens had saved the Jovaren race from extinction when their planet's twin stars collided, destroying their solar system. The Jovarens pledged their species' destiny to serve as loyal protectors of the Lumien galaxy stewards for eternity. Known as Jovaren Knights, they were stationed throughout the galaxy.

How may I serve, My Lord, Commander Koden said.

Did the stage one implementation succeed, Commander?

Yes, My Lord. Quarantine protocol is in effect planet wide. Subsurface molecular mutations are complete. Only surface storage and use, which is miniscule, remains as is.

It has become apparent our efforts will not be enough to stop the destruction, Commander. We must move immediately to stage three. Have your Knights prepare for seed stock transfer and initiate bio-regeneration procedures.

Yes, My Lord.

Equip your Sentinels with battle mods, Commander. This may become difficult.

The holographic image of the Jovaren Knight snapped to attention.

My honor, Lord Steward.

With the flowing elegance of his pellucid species, Lord Cyrhion, Galaxy Master Steward, turned away from the hologram of Earth and proceeded to the spaceport where NOVA, his galactic shuttle awaited.

4

NATHAN STARED OUT THE WINDOW of his hospital room on the post-op ward. He looked down at bandages on his leg where the surgeons had removed the jagged steel shaft from his thigh.

How’re you doing Nathan? Bill Osborne said.

Hey, Bill. I'd get up and offer some cake and cookies but they have me pretty well cinched up in this bed.

It isn't the first time you had your ass strung up in a hospital. Just don't piss off the nurses this time.

No problem. These folks are treating me okay around here. Not like Afghanistan.

You did alright after we hauled your ass away from the Taliban.

I think that's who's running the kitchen here.

Yeah well, be nice. You throw a urinal this time, make sure it's empty.

Maybe you're just bad luck for me, buddy, Nathan said.

I think you packed your own bucket full of bad luck a long time ago. A right time, wrong place sort of thing.

Yeah, could be. My luck held good enough to pull your ass out of a few tight spots, though.

That you did, my friend.

They fell silent for a brief moment, sharing strengths of the soldier's bond.

Any idea what happened out there? Bill said.

Not a clue, Bill, Nathan said. After the first pumping unit went down, it became almost like rapid mortar fire. Everything just started blowing up. I tried to shut down every unit on the pad, but nothing worked. In seconds the whole place turned into explosions and flames. I almost didn't make it out of there.

I'm glad you did, man. It shouldn't have happened. I've been after headquarters for a long time to dial down the overload limits on the pump motors. They probably didn't read one of my requests. I should have done it myself and to hell with the office. If the limits had been reset, you wouldn't be lying here.

Ain't your fault, buddy. Don't load that on yourself. I don't know if the limiters would have tripped anyway. The sucker rods just froze, stuck in place. As if something reached out and grabbed them. I know it sounds crazy, but it happened real fast.

Bill stood by the window of the hospital room looking down at the busy parking lot.

Do you think sabotage may be involved? he said.

I've racked my brain about that. Maybe. It would've required a huge undertaking. Other ProMax production pads close by blew up as if charges had been set. I think we need to get some military in there to sniff around for traces of explosive material.

The Feds have their teams in there doing that as we speak, Bill said. "Nothing to report so far. The charges may be super high tech though. You're right, a couple of EODs would find any evidence of that nature. They know way more about explosives than the Feds, and they'll keep it tight for us.

I'll check around. See if I can find some of our EOD buddies. I'll put them on the payroll so they can dig around the area all they want to.

Jessica called yesterday, Nathan said. She said the National Petroleum Reserve is unable to pump oil in or out. She and Henry are keeping their ears open around the Crude Palace. They'll let us know if anything comes up.

How's she doing?

She's doing okay. Working too hard as always. Now she has this to figure out, too, but she and Henry are the two best minds at ProMax. If natural causes from downhole did this, they'll find them. Plus the brothers confide in her more than most.

Nathan and Bill looked at each other in silence.

I better get back out to the field, Bill said. Is there anything you need?

No, shouldn't need anything. Thanks. Most of the staff here went to some North Dakota veterinary school but they're doing their best.

Don't let them make a steer out of you.

I don't let them get that close, Nathan smiled. Hey, Bill, you know I'm not some crazy kook or some guy seeing ghosts and such. So please don't share what I'm going to tell you with anybody.

You have my word.

I've noticed some strange lights out in the field for the last week or so. Not all the time or every day. Usually early morning on my way to work. Small blue lights hanging over some of the production pads. I'd seen them over other companies' pads, too, not just ours.

Just hanging in the air?

"Yeah, they'd move around