The Towers

By Pier Maria Colombo

Los Angeles had been invaded. There was no warning, no explanation. Nothing. All anyone knew was aliens had arrived on planet Earth. 

From the moment the Towers arrived the city was sent into turmoil. With its citizens being relocated to the outskirts, far from where the Towers had appeared, LA is a powder keg waiting to burst.  Jonas Cook, an ordinary man with an ordinary job, finds himself inadvertently thrust into the center of everything that's going on. Follow Jonas as he gets dragged into it all, whether he likes it or not.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Seagull Editions
• Release date: May 18, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223411208

Book preview

Chapter One

We never saw them coming.

We never even knew they were there.

The city went to sleep, and no one noticed a thing until the next morning. Two Towers, looming over the city in the centre of Elysian Park.

There appeared to be no end to them, if they had a roof we couldn’t see it; the tops of the Towers hidden amongst the clouds where our eyes could not see.

They had no foundations to speak of, they certainly hadn’t been cemented into the ground where they now occupied, they just seemed to... rest, where they were.

I, like most of the city, was drawn to the Towers. Intrigued by their sudden, terrifying appearance in our home. They appeared to be composed of hundreds of huge cubes, each one arranged atop the other. There were no doors, no windows, no openings of any kind.

I wasn’t as brave as some, I didn’t press my nose to the reflective blue-black surface of the Towers in a vain attempt to see within. Instead I watched those that had, listening to their curses as they shouted that they couldn’t see anything but their own reflection. Whatever these buildings were, wherever they had come from, they were like nothing we had seen before.

Humanity is nothing if not resourceful. A few of the construction workers brought their cranes from their building sites in order to get a closer look at the upper floors, cubes, whatever you wish to call them. I remember my heart leaping into my throat when the first man, I later found out his name was David, said that he could see something in the cubes above the reach of his crane. He could see openings, glimpses of lights of some kind, and shadows moving within. Though he couldn’t get close enough to make out what they were exactly.

We couldn’t even hazard a guess as to how tall the Towers truly were. Strange clouds seemed to have formed thirty stories up, clinging to the buildings themselves. They never moved, despite the wind, and while the rest of the clouds dashed themselves against the Towers these odd ones remained where they were. Hiding the upper blocks, thick and dark, sickly storm clouds that didn’t belong anymore than the Towers did.

We didn’t know what to do, the city was alive with chatter at the arrival of these strange Towers, and it took an entire day before the government knew what to do. It felt like the whole of LA had camped out that first night, lingering at the base of the Towers lest something happen. I, like so many others, couldn’t quite drag myself away for fear of missing something. Though fear also told me to run, and I wish I had.

As soon as it went dark, the Towers became a beacon of light, the upper floors (what little we could see) twinkled and blended in with the stars. They were beautiful, eerie, but beautiful nonetheless. I don’t think I slept more than an hour that night, transfixed on the lights of the Towers, hoping that something would happen. Nothing did of course, they just stood there, silent sentinels full of light reaching for the heavens with no rhyme or reason for why they were there.

By morning, the Army and the National Guard arrived. It had only been a matter of time of course, but we’d all hoped they would take a little longer to get their act together. Curiosity is a dangerous thing, we all have it, we all want answers. Yet something deep down told me I should turn my back on the Towers and run as far as my feet would take me, even if my heart wanted to remain for results.

The soldiers forced us back, shouting and threatening the crowds with whatever preventative measures they had to hand. The whole city seemed to be on the street the morning they rolled in with their SUVS and their tanks. Tanks of all things! I didn’t blame them, not really, the Towers made no sense and who wouldn’t want to be cautious? But it still seemed extreme considering nothing had happened so far.

LA complained, of course we did, we had some strange sense of ownership over the Towers and we citizens wanted our rights to be intact. We wanted to remain, to see what the Towers were (against our own better judgement), but the soldiers pushed us back. They cordoned off the area with tape and barricades and armed soldiers. They fired into the sky in warning against our protests and pushing - an act that now I look back at that second day, could potentially have been more disastrous than it turned out to be.

We were forced back down the streets, five blocks from where the Towers stood, and informed that anyone within a ten block radius of their location would be relocated. Of course, that meant me. My apartment was within six blocks of the Towers, a prime location to spy on them from afar, and yet I was to be forced from my home along with so many others from the city.

And where exactly are we meant to go? Are we even allowed to collect our belongings? I’ve never been an overly bold man, heading into my late 30’s I’ve learnt that for a quiet life it’s easier to keep your mouth shut. And yet something about that day had filled me with enough confidence to snap at the soldiers telling me I could not go home.

You will be put up in one of the hotels in the designated safe areas, sir. Our soldiers will take your addresses, and they will fetch your belongings for you. If anyone has anything of significance they need to bring from their homes, please write them down and we will endeavour to bring them to your new residences. Colonel Thompson, a man perpetually bored despite the situation he found himself in, managed to calm the fury of the crowds around him.

He had the tone and demeanour of a parent telling their child off for doing something wrong. His voice was soft and never rose beyond a whisper, forcing us all to hush and lean in so that we could listen to the slight reprimand. A man in his early 50’s, his face was beginning to wrinkle and droop, his brown eyes washed out and his dark brown hair peppered with greys. I would come to know the Colonel quite well over time, but in the beginning he seemed more of a hindrance to my life. Especially since he was denying me access to my own home.

I, like the rest of the crowd, was resigned to the fact that arguing was pointless. Whatever was happening, whatever alien race (for what else could be doing this?) had arrived, we would have to comply with the orders of the army.

Whether we liked it or not.

Chapter Two

I was relocated to Rosemead, to Hotel Bokai Garden, 12 miles away from where the Towers had appeared. My hotel room window looked directly at the Towers, and despite the distance I could still see them, clear as day. There had been plenty of speculation on what they were on the news, and amongst the relocated citizens in the hotel with me. We had all agreed that they were of alien origin - they couldn’t be anything else, given the way the army had reacted and pushed us back. No country on Earth had the technology to just appear out of thin air the way they had.

Aliens.

Even now it feels weird to think about there being other beings out there in the universe, despite the fact that it should be obvious that we can’t possibly be alone. Undeterred by my own scepticism, there was no other answer that made as much sense as ‘Aliens’ did, so we just accepted that this was the case. Without question. Or evidence. Unless you call the two mysterious Towers evidence...

As promised, soldiers came to each of us that had been turfed out of our homes, asking us for a list of our essentials. I hate that I can’t even go back to my own apartment to retrieve my things, it feels like a violation to allow someone else into my home, rifling through my stuff to find what I need. Not that we have a choice. I watched the soldiers filing out of the hotels and apartment blocks in the area, tiny camouflage covered ants lining up to get into their vehicles before they drove back to the restricted areas. Ready to enter my home and bring back my  things. If only they would let us fetch our things ourselves, I’d have been happy enough to be escorted, but no, apparently that wasn’t an option.

I hadn’t seen them return, four hours later. The first I knew of it was when there was a knock at my door, and I found Colonel Thompson on the threshold with two soldiers behind him. Laden with my belongings.

Mr Jonas Cook? He asked me, looking up from the clipboard in his hand with the same bored expression from the previous day.

Yes, that’s me. Finding the Colonel on my doorstep was surprising, I wasn’t an important man by any means.

I worked for the Department of Defense as an admin, I was a paper pusher at best, filing and organising documents for higher ups but nothing of great import to say the least. Quite why the Colonel would be on my door was beyond me.

Good, my name is Colonel Thompson, I understand that you work for the DOD in Pasadena, correct? The man continued, sighing as though the line of questioning was irksome to him.

That’s correct. I’m an administrator. I replied, guessing that my position would be the next question he would ask me.

The Colonel nodded and moved me aside with his clipboard, waving his men past me. I watched them shuffle into my hotel room and dump my meagre belongings beside my bed before they strode out and vanished back down the corridor. Leaving me alone with the Colonel.

Sit down Mr Cook.

I did as I was told, sitting on the edge of the bed as the Colonel shut the door and followed me into the room. He sat in the chair by the dressing table, facing me with his tired eyes, shoulders slumped. He reached into his pocket and threw me my work ID badge, which I only just caught, staring at my face in the picture.

You will continue to go into work, as you normally would, however you will be escorted in and out of the restricted zone every day by one of my men. Is that understood?

So I’m allowed to go in there for my job, but not to live, is that it? I snorted, irritated by the situation.

The Colonel’s eyebrows raised at me, and I caught the small snort of amusement he let out, despite his face never reflecting it. Correct, Mr Cook. We need government offices to continue running as they normally would, especially now.

Especially now we’ve been invaded by aliens? I asked, my temper still flaring at the man, though I knew my anger was misplaced - it wasn’t as though the Colonel had caused this interruption to my life.

Especially now we are in unprecedented times, Mr Cook. He replied calmly, neither admitting or denying my sentiment. Though his silence on the matter still spoke volumes.

Yet I have to live here? I pressed. While still going to work in the restricted zones?

"Correct again, Mr Cook. I can see you’re a half intelligent