Bringing In The Sheaves
Peter Barnett watched as the bodies of the dead were tossed through the gate one by one. The bodies produced a sizzling sound as they passed through. Every now and then the blue light in the gate would simply quiver and a screen over the portal would change. Peter realized weeks before that this was a counter. Day and night for weeks Peter caught a glimpse of this ritual from his position behind the razor wire. The Throwers, as they came to be known, never stopped, never rested. Apparently the species needed no rest or these really were machines as some of the scientists and know-it-alls had suggested.
“Are you watching the counter. Vargas has determined it is a sexigesimal system. Not decimal like ours.” Anthony Colter said behind him.
Peter looked back over his shoulder.
“I suspected as much. They have six digits on each hand and for the first 3 days I watched the display change forty seven times without the same figure coming up. I probably should have kept better track, but if Vargas says sexigesimal that‘s one less thing to puzzle over.” Peter replied.
“Old Bob says they have been here before a few thousand years ago.”
“I guess if anyone would know it would be an old archaeologist but does anyone have any idea about the gates themselves?” Peter said without turning around.
“Well if the crackling means anything it might be similar to a bug zapper. For some reason it isn’t counting the ones that don’t make the sound. A selection process of some sort.” Anthony said.
“How is work on the tunnel coming?” Peter asked.
“We are a hundred yards into the tree line. If we can stay at the back of the line a few more days we think we can reach another two hundred maybe three hundred yards. But if they come for me before then I can’t guarantee I won’t make a run for it.”
Peter turned around.
“You will hold your position Tony as will I. Only section B knows about the tunnel. I hate to say this but given that the extinction of the human race appears to be at hand we have to do what is right for humanity and not for the sake of our own skin. We hold until we are ready or we all die.”
Anthony scraped the ground with his foot.
“Not sure I can. Darwin is telling me to run.”
“Darwin might be telling you to run but Lincoln is telling you to stand fast. Don’t give into the fear even if it means getting your head blown off.”
“Or thrown into a bug zapper?”
“Even then. This is greater than us. Is our defining moment in the early stages of our species going to be just another ape running away and alerting the tiger to the rest of the troop?”
Tony rolled his eyes. Peter turned and eyed the man as he did this. He stepped forward until his face was a few inches from the other man’s.
“You screw up my chance to go through that tunnel and I guarantee you are thrown through the gate dead instead of walking through like a man. You get me?”
Tony backed up his head jerking back.
“Yeah. Yeah. Okay.” Tony said backing off.
“I mean it Tony. If this is about fifty of us surviving or you making it a hundred yards and getting captured you better pray to God they put you in another section when they return you and destroy our tunnel.” Peter said his eyes blazing.
Tony glanced down and saw the knife that had slid from beneath Peter’s shirt sleeve quietly into his hand.
“I was just talking. I’m scared just like you. I’m not going to run.” Tony said eying the knife.
Peter reached over and tucked the knife back up his sleeve. The weapon was useless against the Throwers. Even tank rounds only knocked them down. They always got back up. He had heard that Pakistan had somehow detonated a nuke near the gate there. It took out the Throwers but the gate remained. The area was so contaminated with radiation that when more Throwers showed up they dismantled the gate and moved it and used a weapon of some kind to cleans the area for miles. The radiation didn’t harm the Throwers but the camps they had set up for the people they had captured was gone and humans couldn’t survive in the area. Apparently they preferred people to be alive when they went through the gate but it wasn’t necessary. Eye witness accounts said that the Throwers sent an extra detail to find and destroy anyone who was close enough to receive fallout but not die from the blast. Apparently contaminated bodies were worse than dead ones.
“Good. Now if you don’t mind I really don’t need your company right now. If you see Preacher send him over.” Peter said turning back around.
This was Peter dismissing Tony.
“Look Pete I didn’t mean anything honest.” Tony said holding his hands out palms up.
“It’s fine Tony. Just send Preacher if you see him.” Peter said quietly.
Tony walked off and Peter stood there watching as he did every day. All day long when he wasn’t eating or sleeping. An hour passed before he heard footsteps behind him. Light shuffling footsteps. He lifted his head. The smell of chicken soup made him suddenly hungry.
“Supper time already doc?” Peter said turning slightly.
The woman stood there squinting into the sun behind Peter’s head. A cup of soup in her hand. Chicken noodle.
“The nose knows.” She said grinning. She didn’t bother to ask him how he knew it was her. They had spent enough time together that she had stopped being surprised by his acute sense of awareness.
“Thanks Beth.” He said taking the cup of soup and sipping it. The noodles still chewy the way he liked them.
“You’re welcome. Coming back in soon?” She said looking around.
“What’s going on?” Peter said squinting.
“We had trouble today. Galen and Walker had to take a guy into custody. He was stealing food. He had some friends but they didn’t put up too much of a fight.”
“Then I guess they weren’t his friends.” Peter said relaxing a little.
“It was pretty intense. Ball bats and knives intense. We thought we might have to bring out a gun.”
“Not smart. Throwers would be down on us in minutes. They don’t like anyone killing the cattle except them. But who does right?”
“Well it didn’t happen but it could have if the guy’s buddies hadn’t backed off.
“We are going to see a lot more of that before this is over. Two hundred and twenty seven days since first contact with a superior force who has killed millions of us perhaps tens of millions and we are still acting like savages. Goddamn planet of the apes. I hate humans probably as much as they do.” Peter fumed.
Beth stepped back and squinted at Peter. The setting sun just over his right shoulder.
“Not all humans I hope.”
Peter’s look of contempt faded replaced by a look of guilt.
“No not all humans. Maybe if we are lucky they leave before they get all of us and leave the good ones behind.”
“Do you think they might leave?” Beth said stepping to the side so Peter’s head hid the sun.
“You never know. If they do we need to finish what they started before we continue on.”
“You don’t mean that.” Beth said looking away.
“I do.”
“I’ve got to go. Preacher said he’s working on something but will look you up later.”
“I’ve got another hour before sundown. See you back at the store.”
Beth walked off. Peter watched her go. Sometimes he regretted the things he said, when he let his true self be known, but given that he was probably living his last days he really didn’t care to pretend to be a nice guy anymore. No more high school kids and their insipid ideas. No more principles with their common core socialization agenda. No more neighbors you despised but couldn’t bash in the head with a ball bat because the police would come. Peter had already let the demon out that he had held down inside for the first forty years of his life. And he liked it. He wasn’t about to stuff it back down now. He turned back toward the gate and watched.
The sun was half way below the horizon. Briar’s point ten miles distant. It was setting perfectly between the two solitary oaks Marvin Briar had planted on the large estate two hundred years ago. That meant it was late September and in another month or two the cold would come and bring with it the snow and if anyone remained in the city prison who hadn’t been tossed through the gate or walked through on their own would have one more danger to face. His group had already hidden a supply of propane tanks and camping stoves. They had a good chance of survival until it was their turn. Academics, police, military and their families. They had brains and muscle to hold their piece of the town, a large box store at the city‘s edge. Uncomfortably close to the gate.
Peter caught himself nodding, he was falling asleep on his feet. It was time to call it a day. He turned back toward the store and straight into the face of the Preacher.
“Learn anything?” Preacher asked.
“I was watching what kind of person evoked the buzz response. The one we think is
destruction and those that caused the counters to change are not destroyed. Men, women, young, old, it didn’t seem to matter although it did look as if the naturally infirm were treated different from those disabled by circumstance.” Peter said suppressing a yawn.
“How did you come to that conclusion?” Preacher asked with a raise eyebrow.
“Over the last week I have been watching those that go freely through the gate. The ones who think this is some religious mumbo jumbo. People in walkers, with canes, people who looked like they were going through chemotherapy, bald heads and all. People with casts on and prosthetics. In three instances in the last week someone with a disability that appeared to be caused by an accident caused the counter to tick. No one that looked just sick like with cancer or those with obvious genetically produced disabilities caused the counter to move. My guess is that they are being sorted.”
Preacher smiled wanly.
“My thought too. I have been watching with the binoculars from the tower. I have watched entire buses of people drive up and the people get out and walk calmly up to the gate. Believers in something I suppose. I’ve also seen those hovering freight cars bring in hundreds of bodies, some still alive, and just dump them out on the ground. The Throwers tossing them through as fast as they can. People struggling and fighting. If it goes on too long they just touch them and they fall to the ground. Some kind of stunning mechanism I suspect. But it does look like DNA is the filter.”
Peter yawned.
“Am I boring you?” Preacher asked half smiling as they walked.
“No. I’m just tired.” Peter said trudging along.
“I would be curious to know what the genetic selection process is. Does a certain gene give you a pass and the wrong genes trigger destruction?”
“I think that is exactly it. “
“Separating the wheat from the chaff.”
“Yeah. I’m not sure which one I would rather be. Wheat and survive where ever it is they go or chaff and just get it over with.”
“It’s a conundrum indeed. What if what awaits the ones not zapped is a better life?” Preacher asked.
“That wouldn’t be bad if you had what they wanted. Do you think this will ever stop?”
Preacher furrowed his brow.
“My best guess would be yes. They are counting for some reason. It could be a simple tally. When they are done with the entire population they will have their count. I would believe that more if there was no running count. On the other hand if they are looking for something in particular why kill or destroy, as we presume, the ones they don’t need. And unless they can reanimate us what is the purpose of the dead ones that pass through? It must be just for their DNA or what ever criteria they are using. They only kill out right when provoked or you are dumb enough to get too close before they come and get you.” Preacher said.
“But why do they need the whole body? Why not just sample people?” Peter countered.
“Good question. If live people and dead people are equal to them and neither gets returned and only a few change the counter then it stands to reason they perhaps can either reanimate the corpses for whatever purpose or something that is beyond our comprehension of motives.” Preacher said.
“I have noticed that none of the dead that change the counter are seriously damaged or appear to have been dead very long.” Peter offered.
Preacher stopped and looked at him. He pursed his lips as if thinking about what he was about to say.
“What?” Peter asked.
“I think they are going to stop at some point. Perhaps even leave.” Preacher said raising an eyebrow.
“Because we have seen no settlements just the gates?” Peter asked.
“There is that but also, and this will sound weird coming from me, but I think the count stops at one hundred and forty four thousand.”
Peter grinned sideways.
“Holy shit. You aren’t starting to take your name seriously are you?”
“Well I am an ordained minister but that’s not it. The Bible does have some validity. You being the well educated person you are should have realized that.”
“I’m gonna be straight with you Preacher I’ve never been a believer. My parents didn’t infect me like the billions of poor slobbery idiots that were still slugging it out in the name of God before these demons arrived.”
“Then let me enlighten you. It is now obvious to you that there is an intelligence in the universe other than ours, right?”
“Yes I already see where you are going. Ancient aliens and all that bullshit. I’ve seen the shows. Pure rubbish. Easily refuted nonsense about how people back then couldn’t do this or that. For example the fifteen hundred ton obelisk being carved out that was left in the rock because it cracked. The person telling us how cutting beneath the bases of these monoliths in narrow pits is impossible when it isn’t and cutting all the way across from underneath. When any retard can figure out that you don’t have to cut a straight line across, you can dress the stone later, and you don’t have to cut all the way through just bang away until you get the top piece resting on a ridge and then rock it loose. And so on for just about every argument they throw out for the idiots who don’t believe in God and will lap up any evidence no matter how contrived to justify their non-belief.”
“Well there is that, and obviously they do exist. But give this some thought. The six days of creation follow scientific belief strangely enough. In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth and the earth was without form and void and darkness was upon the face of the deep. If we realize that this is allegory and not literal or the retelling and re-translation of a real event we can see that the heavens is space and earth is matter. Not the planet earth because it says it was without form and void. Later you have God saying let there be light but you don’t get the sun and moon until day 4 or so. Science says that there was darkness even after the Big Bang that created matter but light didn’t shine until hundreds of millions of years later when there was enough space, ie void, to allow light to travel. It goes on to say animals came first and at the end finally mankind. It all falls within the beliefs of science. And so on. And then there is the Great Flood story. If we forget the Noah story and all its predecessors that it is taken from and look at the scientific data we find two things. Scientific evidence both geological and anthropological that a Great Flood, perhaps several, did occur. It is in the landscape such as the carving out of the Grand Canyon in a short time and in the legends told by people around the world.”
“I see what you are saying. You are saying that this ancient knowledge is passed on but watered down over time. I get that. But we have nothing to go on. In fact if I recall what you are specifically focusing on it is in Revelation the hundred and forty four thousand chosen from the twelve tribes of Israel. So you think this will stop once they get one hundred and forty four thousand of what they want?”
“Possibly. And frankly I don’t know how to feel about it.”
“Depends on where they are going doesn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Peter said with a wry grin.
“The virginity requirement.” Preacher said rolling his eyes.
“Yup. I’m not sure but I think I have seen you with a woman at least once.” Peter said with a sideways wide-eyed look.
“Good point.” Preacher said smirking.
“Bad thing is that even if that is true how long is it going to take before you find one hundred and forty four thousand virgins?”
“Well it’s actually worse than that because the phrase says defiled with women, which means they are all men.” Preacher added.
“Then I guess we can exclude re-breeding the human species as a motive.” Peter said beginning to walk again.
“Not necessarily.” Preacher said shaking his head.
Peter stopped. He glanced over Preacher’s shoulder at the light shining up from the gate in the growing darkness of sunset.
“Uh you do know how baby’s are made right?”
“True but with cloning technology and even artificial wombs actual mating is not necessary. And if you were trying to breed true bloodlines and some kind of cleanliness then swapping body fluids is apparently undesirable. Men are the perfect choice of the two sexes.” Preacher said.
“How so?”
“They contain all the chromosome examples of the human species. The twenty two common to all humans plus an x and a y chromosomes. Women only contain the x. If you tried to preserve the human species with just women you could only clone women. Although you wouldn’t need artificial wombs. But still.”
Peter stopped and looked at the Preacher and shook his head.
“That may be the deepest thing I have heard you say yet. I had a professor once who said humanity could continue on without men using cloning and the women could just carry the babies. No men needed. I wish I had thought of that tidbit then. I guess he was essentially right but that would have made a good counterpoint.”
“Don’t feel bad. I didn't come to that conclusion until I was forty. Surprised me too that it took so long to figure it out. In fact it was that passage of the Bible that brought it to my attention.” Preacher said dismissively.
“Did you happen to get around to explaining where the water for the Biblical account of the flood covering everything could have possibly come from?” Peter said smiling. Baiting him.
“Yes, but loosely. Before the world went to shit you obviously studied some science. Besides Marco, and perhaps myself, you seem to be one of the most learned people here.”
“Well thank you. That’s a compliment coming from you. And yes I kept up on science in my spare time. But I can’t think of what you might be referring to.”
“Ever read about the finding that there is more water locked up in the Earth’s crust than in the oceans?” Preacher asked.
“Oh yeah. But that’s locked up in some mineral isn’t it?”
“Yes but I think if we had had more time we would have figured out that the continents and the crust of the earth itself is honey combed with enough underground rivers, seas, perhaps even what you might call oceans. The crust of the earth is a large volume compared to the oceans alone. It only makes sense that over time the water would at least sink down until it met some kind of resistance to its natural following of gravity. Perhaps all the way down until it is too hot to stay liquid and exists in a steam state.” Preacher said smiling. This was a game of intellect for him. He enjoyed it.
“What is the mechanism for bringing it up. Uh opening the fountains of the deep I suppose? Some kind of cycle with the moon?” Peter said playing along.
“That’s my best guess. Some kind of harmonic cycle like giving a swing a push just a little bit as it is moving away from you except this is a pull. Tides in the earth. Possibly causing other phenomenon. Just a thought. I’m not saying it’s anything other than the end of the ice age that the flood stories recount, but there is enough water to satisfy the story.”
Peter looked at Preacher with tired eyes.
“Well I’m not saying I buy the whole Bible thing but I can see where you might think that there is a remnant of truth. But I don’t see how that helps us. If these things have been here before then how does that save our asses?” Peter said wearily.
Preacher shrugged.
“I didn’t say it did. I just think we have a chance that it will end eventually. What they do with the people they take I don’t know. But the more information we have the better in case they don’t stop. Higgly thinks its possible to piggy back a weapon onto one of the ones that triggers the count. If we assume they are sent somewhere and that there crossing through the gate causes some kind of link to the home world of these guys. Like blowing into a microphone except we use a nuke.”
Peter started moving again.
“I can think of instantly why that’s a bad idea. One you just said nuke. Two if we did manage to damage the other side that would probably ensure that we are all hunted to extinction. Or we could just wipe out the waiting room of those that passed through and that means they would have to stay until they got their quota again.”
Preacher nodded. “Good points. Okay no nuke. I just hope someone else doesn’t think of it and screw us all.”
“Well someone did try remember. I wonder if it was during a pass through.” Peter said nodding.
“We’ll never know. But I’m guessing someone will try again.” Preacher said shaking his head and sighing.
“Yup.”
“I’m turning in. I’ve got to dig between two and four. We’ve made it past the tree line. We are hitting roots. Need to go around them and try to get deeper inside the treeline if we can.”
“I’m on at four to six. See you later.”
“Later.”
Peter walked the twilight lit street moving swiftly. After dark movement drew the attention of the Throwers. It was an easy way to get picked prematurely. No one had been taken from Peter’s side of town for weeks. They stayed low and only moved around during the day. The theory was that during the day the heat of a body and the surrounding heat were less conspicuous. At night you stood out like a sore thumb. Peter’s group had successfully used an insulated room the last time the Grabbers had come through his section of town looking for people to throw through the gates. This only happened when the floating rail cars ran empty before the next delivery of people or corpses. The room was an empty meat locker looted long ago and non operational. Opinions varied why it had worked. They were out of normal visual sight, infrared as long as they didn’t stay too long and heat the place up with their bodies, and the thing was a metal shroud which might act as an EM barrier. This was where they began their tunneling. One of the jobs of the human watchers, such as himself, was to alert people when the train cars ran empty. That also hadn’t happened for weeks.
Peter was on his way to a meeting. The nightly debriefing when the leaders would fill everyone in on what they had discovered that day. Peter was especially curious to know what Professor Barnes from New York had to say. He was supposed to have a way of communicating with other groups in other cities. He kept it secret not trusting anyone. Today was supposed to be the latest results from the testing of the equipment.
Peter reached the side door of the store they occupied and scratched on it. He didn’t knock. Knocking at this time of the day would draw attention. Someone was always standing just on the other side of the door to listen for the signal. The door opened it was dark inside. He stepped into the outer room constructed to separate the inner room from the outside. He could not walk into the next room until the door to the outside was closed. This kept any chance of light being seen from outside. He waited for the door to close. It did.
“You may proceed.” A voice said.
Peter walked to the next door by memory and found the handle and walked into the room. Nearly everyone was present with a few exceptions. Karen Marcus the current elected leader of the group and former Mayor saw him and moved to him. The others talked among themselves. They spoke in hushed tones but seemed excited.
“Peter. Glad you’re here. You have to hear this. It’s amazing.”
“Okay.” Was all Peter could say.
He had heard the words amazing before when the ships first settled on Earth during the night as the terminator between day and night moved across the Earth. Amazing how quickly amazing turned into screams and global war. He didn’t get excited by the word amazing anymore.
“Dr. Barnes fill Peter in on what you have told us.” Karen said.
Doctor Barnes was a tall skinny man in his early sixties. Mostly gray hair. A pair of glasses completed the look of a geek.
“Well as I was telling the group. I have learned that the gate in Ontario has been dismantled and no more Throwers occupy that area of Canada.” The Professor said beaming.
“How do you know this?” Peter asked his eyes wide. A shot of Adrenalin running through him now.
The Professor paused. Karen waved the Professor to continue.
“I have a device hooked to the water supply. The same device is hooked up in several water supplies in the United States and abroad. Those who are aware of the technology anyway. It emits a pulse of laser light that travels through the water using it like fiber optic. It emits no EM radiation outside the pipe. Depending upon how far it travels determines the strength of the signal and its range. Of course lots of curves in the pipe cut down range. A highly sensitive device is attached to any water pipe interrupting the stream. In the perfect darkness of the pipe even faint changes in illumination are detected. The serious of pulses are decoded by the machine attached to the device. Messages can be sent this way.” The Professor said beaming.
“I am going to assume the message was sent across several of these networks? It isn’t likely any laser made it this far.” Peter said.
“True. True. We have a network. The message is a couple days old. But that leaves three functioning gates in this hemisphere and eight in Europe, Asia, and Africa.”
Peter’s brow furrowed.
“You mean we know how many there were? Are?” Peter said surprised.
“Oh yes. That was in the message too. People have traveled the world while this was going on collecting information. As long as you stay out of the air and don’t draw attention to yourself you have a good chance of making it from place to place. People have volunteered to bring this information to the network.”
Peter looked at the floor and thought for a moment.
“Did anyone get the final count off the gate before it packed up?”
The Professor smiled.
“You’ve been keeping count too?”
“Yes. Do you know the count?”
“It was twelve thousand even.”
Peter squinted at the professor. His mind racing. Twelve gates worldwide and one closes at twelve thousand.
“Did the gate set up somewhere else?” Peter asked.
“Not that I know of. It’s just gone along with the infrastructure of Throwers and Haulers.”
Peter looked around the room.
“Does anyone know what the current gate count is?”
Karen stepped forward.
“Don’t you?”
“I don’t understand that stuff. Is Preacher in the tower?”
“I believe so.” Karen replied. “Why?”
“Because this might be over sooner than we think depending upon the gate count. If I am correct it will stop at twelve thousand like Canada and they will leave.”
Peter held up a hand to Karen. “I might be back.” Then he slipped out the door and started making his way to The Tower.
Peter was in a hurry but he didn’t risk breaking procedure as he made his way to the First Baptist Church. An old building from back in the day when they built tall steeples to let people know where to go. When this one was built there weren’t even any roads in the small town. People coming from the east would see the steeple and know there was most likely sanctuary. Now it served as a lookout post. Peter smiled at that thought. The steeple was made to be seen and now it was used to be hidden and to see other things. Preacher had removed one of the shake shingles and the newer asphalt shingles and built a platform inside the tower. A ladder led up to a platform wide enough for two people. Peter slipped into the side door and proceeded to the ladder.
“Who is it?” Preacher said in a loud whisper.
“Peter.”
“Come on up. Quietly.” Preacher whispered back.
Peter quietly climbed the ladder. Every step had to be considered. A loud noise at night, for whatever the reason might alert the Roamers whose job it seemed to be to hunt down people after dark. Slowly Peter made his way to the top. To his left stood Preacher on a platform big enough to hold two maybe three people.
“What’s on your mind?” Preacher said not taking his gaze off the gate.
“I’m thinking about doing something stupid and I would like you to tell me why I shouldn’t.” Peter said.
“Well it kind of answers itself doesn’t it?” Preacher said nonchalant.
“Well it’s a risk versus reward gambit. I think you were right about the hundred and forty four thousand thing.”
“Why?” Preacher said his eyes still peering out the hole in the roof.
“Professor Barnes has been in contact with others in North America, he has heard of the gate in Canada closing. Just packed up and left. Didn’t move. Just left.”
Preacher turned and looked at Peter his eyes narrowing.
“How good is the intel?” Preacher asked.
“He seems confident of it. He’s been using a laser device to send messages through the water systems. Uses the water like fiber optics. But here’s the kicker. The gate closed when it got exactly twelve thousand people and there were twelve gates total.”
Preacher rubbed his beard.
“Pretty odd to hit an exact number like that. I am sure I see where you are heading with this. Twelve gates, one closes at twelve thousand exactly, which would lead you to believe they are taking or selecting a hundred and forty four thousand. Which would make the Biblical account interesting. What’s the crazy part?”
“What if the ones selected move onto the next stage, level, what ever? If that were the case I might go and step in just to see what happens. Might be interesting. Might be the biggest decision a person can make.”
“It would certainly be that. The thing is that what concerns me is that the gate didn’t just move. It closed up. It filled its quota. Not the whole quota just its quota. For some reason there are twelve different gates, teams if you will, and what they need is twelve thousand of just the right people. What if it is a team? What if the people selected are going to be soldiers or slaves? Or something we can’t even imagine because we don’t think like them?”
“What about the fact that this event is prophecy come true although I think it is supposed to be something about being chosen from among righteous men as you said before. What if the Mormons are kind of right and each set of twelve is going to their own planet to start a civilization. Maybe that’s what happened here. Maybe we are the product of a previous experiment, culling, what have you?”
“If we take spiritualism out of the equation then however the warning or prophecy got handed down would have required communication between the aliens and the original tellers of the story. These guys don’t talk. Perhaps they do this periodically. Maybe we are from the original batch and they occasionally come and sample the herd. I can easily see where someone telling about what did happen several thousand years ago, perhaps circa four thousand B C, gets turned into a prophecy not a telling of what happened but what will happen especially since those handing the story down aren’t likely to believe, given enough time, that it actually happened. Lots of possibilities really. What if we are descendants of a previous culling? Too many to make a reasoned decision.”
Peter paused for a moment lost in thought.
“That would explain a few things. Mankind's presence here for over a hundred thousand years but the Bible doesn’t begin the story until roughly six thousand years ago. Which of course assumes Ussher’s calculation for the length of a generation is correct. It would also explain how mankind seems to reach technological heights like Gobekli Tepi and Ancient Egypt and then slips back into stupid mode for a few thousand years.”
Preacher got a pained look on his face.
“What if after they get what they are looking for they destroy the remaining sample and just redeposit the ones they took. This also explains some creation myths. Like I said too many possibilities. Not to mention the biggest flaw in your idea.”
“Yeah I know. How do I know I won’t be zapped instead of preserved?”
Preacher nodded.
“You also have to wonder why no more of the willing were apparently accepted than any other group. Such as the dead. I noticed no preference for live, dead, willing, or unwilling. Whatever the trait is it is unique to an individual.”
Suddenly there was a brilliant flash of light from the area of the gate. Preacher who was closest to the hole in the roof winced. It burnt like the summer sun. Peter and Preacher both peered out the hole in the roof. The Throwers stopped. The counter flashed three times and then turned off. The blue glow that emanated from the gate stopped. Peter and Preacher watched as two Throwers grabbed the sides of the gate and lifted it off the ground. They looked up and touched their chests simultaneously. A ray of light struck the pair and the gate lifted up with the two Throwers hanging on. Peter saw another flash a few meters away and another Thrower not near the gate disappeared in a flash. The gate and the two hangers on continued up. Flash after flash occurred as Throwers and Haulers and the various other forms of the aliens disappeared. In less than a minute it was dark again.
Peter felt weak in the knees. He was holding his breath. The room began to spin. Preacher caught him and helped him sit down on the platform, his hand against his chest to keep him from falling down the long steeple.
“We have to record this for future generations. Perhaps something that can last thousands of years.” Preacher said.
“Do you think its over for us?” Peter said shaking his head and breathing deeply.
“For this location yes. Unless other gates are also disappearing that leaves ten. I suspect as soon as they get their quota we are all safe again. As safe as you can be in a destroyed world with winter coming to this part of it.”
“I have a feeling the problems we will face will be nothing compared to this.” Peter said.
Peter patted Preachers hand on his chest.
“I’m okay now. The dizziness is gone. I want to get down from here. We have people out there to help.”
Preacher’s eyes opened wide.
“I hadn’t thought of that. Damn.”
Preacher helped Peter stand.
“You sure you’re okay?” Preacher said putting a hand on Peter’s shoulder.
“Yeah. I’m fine. That was quite a shock considering what I was about to do.”
Preacher shook his head.
“No. I would have knocked you out.”
Peter grinned.
“I think the coast is clear let’s get going.”
“I’m ready but if we hear a trumpet sound I’m heading straight for the tunnel.”
“Actually I think that already happened. It’s been recorded around the world. I watched it online. As well as the sea turning red, plagues, locusts, etcetera. We were warned but we didn’t listen.”
“This time we need to leave a story somehow that can’t be mistaken.”
“In six thousand years who will understand our way of thinking?”
“We have to try.”
“Yes. We have to try. Let’s go.”
The two climbed down the ladder and joined the people who had begun to venture out. Off in the distance they heard the sobbing and cries for help.
THE END
