The Supreme Being

By Raul Robles

Science fiction story where its protagonist Oscar Martinez, a war photographer, witnesses the intervention of an entity from another world in a conflict and from that moment decides to find the answers about the origin of the entity and its reason for intervening on earth.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Raul Robles
• Release date: May 27, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223234265

Book preview

THE SUPREME BEING

RAUL ROBLES

Copyright © 2023 Raul Robles

All rights reserved

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

Contents

Title Page

Copyright

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

16

17

18

Epilogue

About The Author

1

The conflict began less than a week ago, and in a short time, the violence and chaos exceeded the most conservative forecasts. For the residents of the area, that week was nothing new, loss, death, and destruction are common in that stretch of land. The entire world was the main spectator. Reporters and news media filled their screens with images of what had happened as a curiosity alien to the reality of their ordinary lives.

Oscar Martinez was among the dozens of reporters and cameramen who followed every second of the conflict from the safety of the protective lines of the invading army. The word Press could be seen embroidered on his vest, with his full name below it. In his hands, he held a camera, which, through continuous and precise movements, took pictures without stopping.

The main difference between Oscar and the rest of the reporters and cameramen present was the place where he was. In the middle of the conflict zone. Oscar is called a war photographer, and he did his work in that place. Between the screams, the bullets, and the explosions, Oscar could be seen moving quickly looking for the best place to take the next picture. If someone paid attention to his gaze behind the viewfinder, they expected to see passion or excitement, but there was only contempt for what he saw. He did not have any armor or special protection. In almost 20 years as a photographer, never suffered a major injury. His only protection was his camera and his instincts.

He was 38 years old, 18 of which he spent behind the viewfinder of a camera. At 20, he collected enough money to fulfill his wish to travel abroad. He started his little trip through Europe, specifically from Belgium. Within a month of his journey, he found himself in a small town, and witnessed a crowd stone a man to death. Out of morbidity and curiosity, he took out his father's small camera and took some pictures. The crowd ignored the young man taking photos of that crime that, for them, was justice. When the man stopped moving and his blood covered him. The crowd finally felt exhaustion and revulsion for what they were observing at their feet. Oscar took one last photograph and quietly walked away from the scene. Shocked by what happened, he left the city and go to the nearest town.

He arrived at the next town in the afternoon. It was not a very long journey. The first place he visited was the nearest bar. At the bottom of a glass of liquor, he tried to understand what he had witnessed and the reason he took those photos. What upset him the most was not feeling anything. In the movies, when someone witnessed a murder, they vomited, cried, or screamed, trying to save the life of that stranger, but he did nothing, he just had the impulse to take some pictures.

Soon after he felt the effects of the alcohol, he stopped. It was not advisable for a young tourist to be drunk in a totally unknown place. He already felt the tranquility that he sought at the end of each glass of liquor. For the first time, he looked towards the center of the bar. There were tables and some people were eating. He walked away from the bar after paying for his drinks. As he sat down in one table, he took a deep breath, and he waited for someone to take his order.

He ordered something that looked like a stew with a large piece of bread and wine, which seemed to be a custom in that place. As a rule, he never asked what the food was made of as long as it was cheap and edible, especially since money was running out. Eating was good for him. His senses awakened and the sound of the surrounding people filled his ears. He rarely paid attention. Mostly they were conversations in the area's dialect, which he partially understood, a phrase here and there. Until he recognized a language that was familiar to him, he fixed his gaze on the table. The conversation was coming from two men, both of whom were clearly not native to the area. First for the physical appearance, but second for the clothes. To distract himself, he continued listening to them, while they talked carelessly, sure that no one could understand them.

The two men similarly wore blue slacks, flannels with sleeveless vests with many pockets. The one who looked taller had blond hair and carried himself like the leader. His partner was smaller, with black hair and a thick build.

(in English) -… We wasted our time, we didn't arrive on time… Damn it! -

He said angrily.

- So, the information was reliable? Is he dead? -

- 99% sure, we'll still go see what we can find out, but it's a damn waste of time -

A bang on the table accompanied the last thing he said. His partner answered nothing and took a drink. For several moments, there was only silence. The blonde spoke again.

- Poor devil, you know how they punish the corrupt in their city or those they perceive as corrupt, they stone them -

He said without looking at his partner.

- Don't they care that was the mayor of the town? -

- They wouldn't care even if he was the president, poor devil. I don't know how he lasted almost 2 years in office -

-2 years, how long did his predecessor last? -

- A little less than 6 months -

He responded by laughing at the end.

-What did he do? -

- Who knows and who cares? Maybe they do it when they're bored -

Oscar was sure they were talking about the man whose death he witnessed. They continued talking about it without concern. At that moment, he look at his plate and there was no food left. He continued listening and finally understood that those men were journalists from one of those big news networks. He waited for his plate to be taken away and paid for his food. With an impulse, he got up and walked calmly towards the two men as they continued to talk. He stopped in front of the table and politely asked permission to sit down.

(in English) - Good afternoon, my name is Oscar, and I listen what you were talking about -

They both looked at Oscar surprised by the young man standing in front of them, and even more, speaking in their language. They were sure that no one could understand them in that place.

- Sorry? -

Asked the blonde.

-My name is Oscar, and I heard your conversation-

- A backpacker tourist. How can we help you? -

The blonde replied.

- I think I can offer you something… -

- About what? My friend and I have talked about many things... -

Asked the black-haired one.

- Well… about the man stoned in the next town…. -

The blond looked at his partner and a smile covered his face, and that was exactly the expression that Oscar expected. With a gesture, he invited him to sit next to them.

- Well, my new friend, my name is William, and this here is Richard, we are journalists from the UNM news network (UNION OF WORLD NEWS) and were sent to cover the arrest of the mayor of that town, but we were late. They already executed him  publicly. -

- That's right, he's dead. I was present a few hours ago... -

- we would love to hear your side of the story and thus complete the report -

Richard said.

- I have something better than a story… -

- And what would be better than history? -

William asked.

- Photographs… -

Oscar stared at his faces to see how much they were worth to them. It was Richard who straightened up quickly, and for the first time, showed interest.

- Do you have pictures?... -

Richard asked.

- I was in town when it happened, and I took some pictures with my camera. -

If it's true, we're interested, can you show them to us… -

- First, I would like to discuss the payment, because as you will understand they are not free… -

Richard looked at William with an amused smile.

- Of course, but at least show me your camera. -

William said.

Oscar took his bag and pulled out his father's small film camera and showed it to Richard. Seeing it, he laughed. William now seemed to be entertained. Oscar did not understand what was funny and imagined that they were making fun of him, or did not believe that he had taken the photographs.

- What is so funny? -

Oscar asked irritably.

- Well my young friend, first that camera is so basic that you will be very lucky if there are photographs in it, and secondly you have no experience -

- If you're not interested, I'm sorry I bothered you -

Oscar responded, getting up from the table.

Many times in the dark of night and while he was contemplating the roof of the last place where he stayed, Oscar would think about what his life would have been like if he hadn't come back to the table or if Richard hadn't asked him to.

Richard spoke quickly.

- I didn't want to offend you. Please sit down and let's talk about business. -

He said, still smiling.

Oscar stopped and looked again at those two strangers, and returned to the table.

- How much are the photos worth to you? -

- That depends on the quality of the photos and what they show -

Richard answered, as William was more interested in his glass than in the conversation.

- The camera use film, how are we going to find out? -

Oscar asked, with some panic in his voice.

- Well, we have the necessary equipment to reveal them, depending on what I see. We do business... do you agree? -

William asked finally.

Oscar thought for a few seconds, but knew he had nothing to bargain with. Richard was right. It was necessary to develop the photos, so he accepted. Oscar accompanied them to the hotel where they were staying. There they had some huge black bags. Soon he realized they were full of instruments, equipment, and cameras that clearly belonged to William, who set about taking out what he would need to develop the film. Little by little, he was taking things to the bathroom, and finally he took out a red light bulb from an inside pocket of the bag, the bathroom was filled with a red light. William left the bathroom and asked Oscar for his camera. While all this was going on, Richard lay on the bed with his eyes closed, showing no interest in William's work.

William took the camera and Oscar asked him if he could see what he was doing. He accepted without thinking twice. Oscar asked to see what he was doing, not out of curiosity, but to make sure they wouldn't try to trick him. The bathroom was completely red, the sink was full of liquid and on top of the toilet, there was a tray with another liquid. Oscar had to concentrate so that his eyes got used to the red color, but for William, it was as if there was no problem with the light.

He extracted the roll of film from the camera and checked it with a mirror, in one corner there was a machine that looked like a projector, but was small. There he gradually placed the roll of film and took out sheets as a normal photograph, dipped the sheets in the liquids and place the wet sheets in the shower curtain tube with a holder. Oscar stared at the sheets and observed that there were only 4, which was strange because he remembered having taken at least 10 photos.

Little by little, the images appeared on the sheets. William took the photos one by one and dried them by placing them back in the shower curtain tube. He looked at Oscar and answered the question that he was thinking.

- Well, my young friend, only four photos can be used. The rest were out of focus and others had movement in them -

- all four are useful to you? -

- I think so, in a minute we will know -

After a minute, William turned off the red light bulb, took the photos, and motioned for Oscar to leave the bathroom. In the room, Richard seemed to be fast asleep. William went to the nearest light bulb and carefully examined the photos, one after another. Oscar remained standing by the entrance of the bathroom, waiting for the answer. William went over to Richard and woke him up, placing the photos in his hands. Richard looked sleepily at the photos and slowly seemed to wake up smiling.

- Yes, Yes…. Not bad, we can use them -

Richard took the photos and gave them to Oscar.

- These are your photos and I tell you, they are not bad at all... -

Oscar looked at each of the photos, the first showed a woman throwing a stone at the man, the second was a photo showing the crowd and the man bleeding, the third was a photo of the man protecting his face of the stones and the last one was a photo of when everything was over, and it only showed the body covered in blood. He was impressed, the photos looked better than expected.

- So, do we do business? -

- Yes, let's do business -

Richard replied.

Richard had the last word and bought the negative for a decent amount, giving him several explanations that were unimportant to Oscar. For him, it was a good deal, almost half of what it had taken him 2 years to save and for 4 photos. The three of them returned to the bar to celebrate, the photos turning the news of the mayor's execution from a footnote in a press release into stellar news. There they talked as friends, getting to know each other a little more, until they realized they should continue on their paths. When they said goodbye, Richard spoke privately with Oscar.

- my young friend, this is the farewell. Meeting you have been a stroke of luck -

Richard said, placing a business card with his information in Oscar's hand.

- I think you have a talent for photography, a good eye, like my editor, would say. My office is in London. That's where I work. You can learn the trade and who knows... -

Richard said honestly.

Oscar was surprised by everything he heard, never thought seriously about what would do when he returned home. After finishing high school, his parents died within 1 year because of cancer. He worked for months to make this trip and decide what he would do with the rest of his life. The goodbye was short and simple.

Richard and William left the bar, leaving Oscar alone at the table. Oscar stayed there, thinking about Richard's last words and the card that was deposited in one of his pockets. During the trip, in moments of solitude, he thought about what he would do when the money ran out, and he had to return home. They were not pleasant thoughts. He had no family, and never felt part of the town where he grew up.

There was no better evidence of his detachment from what he knew all his life than when finished burying his father, months after his mother's death. He collected enough to travel and leave behind that place. Returning did not seem to be an option for Oscar.

He finished the drink he had in his hand and got up from his chair. Outside the bar, the sunlight hurt his eyes, and after taking a deep breath, he continued on his journey. Thanks to the sale of the photographs, wondering what he would do when he returned home was not an immediate problem.

A month after leaving that bar, he lost interest in continuing his trip. His thoughts were on Richard