Einar Petersen - Science Fiction Writer and Technology Enthusiast

Click here to see the storyboard for my comicbook conversion of chapter 1 on Patreon

Christopher Edge was pleased, he had just blasted a watchtower on his way to work, and Red Faction was scrambling for cover.

CowTow had taken down the Aruba Garrison singlehandedly, not a feat to take lightly and the com chatter was thick, ecstatic and filled with gloating remarks about Red Faction and their dismal performance during the last interval.

The Purple Haze Brigade were kicking butt that much was certain.

Sure it had become a minor obsession, the wife did not like his odd nightly detours, nor the fact that Christopher was so preoccupied with something that he, in her opinion in any way could gain anything from in the long run.

Ross looked upon it differently, to him his father was a hero of humanity and he could not wait to grow older, have his own handheld and getting himself engrossed in the battle for humanity, it would be at least two more years his dad had said before he would be allowed to have his own handheld, life as a 7-year-old sometimes sucked.

Christopher smiled smugly, looked around the metro. A ragtag punk dressed in camos eyed him as he looked up from his mobile. Christopher felt a shiver, were they following him?

The ragtag punk looked down again and started flicking and waving his fingers on and in front of the screen seemingly engrossed in some social media interaction. Christopher sighed with relief.

Was he getting paranoid? Was his wife right? Was this a complete waste of time and life or did his missions serve a higher purpose…

The metro came to a halt and as the midway stop tune sounded Christopher suddenly realized he had gone one stop too far.

Shit!, Going to be late for the plane and the meeting in Denver, he looked up, people had started pouring into the already crowded cabin. He resolutely jumped from his seat, rushed and squeezed his way through the cabin and managed to get out just in time before the doors slid shut. He exhaled heavily and looked for the track crossing. To his great surprise the ragtag punk was also on the station deck, not too far from him… it seemed impossible that he could have gotten off so quickly without creating an even greater disturbance than Christopher had done, but there he was standing there seemingly unfazed by the hustle and bustle of the busy station deck. In his mind Christopher imagined the cursing and swearing that had to be going on back in that cabin, he had been relatively careful as he got out, had pushed a bit. But that punk… holy hell, suitcases, backpacks and people had to be jumbled all over that train. He looked down. Better not make any further eye contact he thought and hurried towards the escalator, if he was lucky he could still make that plane.

Vancouver airport was at it's usual, still security theater at its utmost, now due to these terrible eco-terrorists, what would be next, an alien invasion and shapeshifters hiding in our midst?

Christopher shuddered at the thought of these imaginary threats the establishment came up with in order to feed, now not only the military-industrial complex, but a new and burgeoning security sector commonly referred to as the Security Consortium. Christopher shuddered at the thought of them hungrily eying the hard earned money of every man woman and child still holding on to a job, in what seemed like an everlasting recession.

Money Christopher thought bitterly, stolen straight out of the pockets of every honest hard working person out there, just taken without remorse by corrupt and power obsessed politicians and their corporate lobbyist handlers, he grit his teeth.

Christopher was traveling lightly today, only his briefcase with the DocuVault™ and his trusty NiXen™ handheld.

The security officer eyed him suspiciously as he looked at the readout from the fingerprint and iris scan, flipped his DocuVault™ around a couple of times before putting it back on the conveyor along with the NiXen™ and Christopher's bag.

“Business trip eh?”, the officer asked nodding at his belongings as he put them back in the bag.

“Yup Denver”, Christopher said and to alleviate the situation added “First time”, as if he needed that, his travel history in it's entirety would already have been shown on screen, and the fact that he'd never been in Denver would have been highlighted to the officer as he was passing through the inspection portal.

“Have a nice trip”, the officer said dispassionately and was on to the next travelers' belongings.

Christopher began regretting having had that latté on the way, did he have time to find a toilet, his bladder was killing him. He should have stuck to his breakfast veggie juice and left it at that, but that latté had been too tempting.

Shortly before the gate he finally found an unoccupied toilet booth. He had never really been able to stand at the urinal and relieving himself, always thinking whether if anyone was looking or not, comparing sizes and any other odd thought jumping into his head when forced to be standing in a public men's room.

He knew he shouldn't worry just because of that one freak incident, but his whole adult life in many ways had been one significant avoidance on the issue.

Christopher unzipped, it splashed wonderfully as he aimed straight for the black spot just under the waterline at the back of the toilet, at least he did not show any signs of prostate problems even though he had passed into his forties.

Moments later he was done, zipped and flushed. He opened the door and to his surprise found that the toilet was empty except to his surprise a stewardess seemingly putting on some lipstick.

He looked down, the woman was gorgeous, “Uhm… this is the men's room”, he politely said and went over to the sink to wash his hands.

“I know”, she answered with a smile.

“Erhm”, Christopher mumbled not sure what to reply to that.

He dried his hands and headed for the door.

The stewardess stepped out in front of him.

“I wouldn't go out there”, she said with an odd look upon her face.

Christopher edged to the side in order to pass her sideways. She put her hand onto the wall blocking his sidestepping.

“I said I wouldn't go out there”, she repeated sternly.

“Would you please get out of my way, I have a plane to catch”, he said gently putting his hand on her arm.

“You do, but not the one you think”, the stewardess answered putting her other hand on top of Christopher's arm swinging him about, kicking the back of his knee with her pointy shoes reflexively landing Christopher on his knees before he had the faintest idea of what was going on.

“I'm sorry, but you will understand”, the stewardess said jabbing Christopher with something that felt like a syringe in the neck.

Christopher was about to answer something back in amazement, then his vision blurred for a moment and then his mind went black.

The stewardess opened the toilet door, and two men dressed as baggage handlers with an oversized suitcase on wheels slid inside.

“Bring him to the compound, I will meet up with you there”, she said and left the two men and headed for the exit.

Moments later a call for Christopher Edge blared over the speakers calling his to the gate.

At the gate Ronald Chamberlain was pleading with the lady behind the counter, “Come on lady, can you please get me on the plane, my father is dying, I have to see him one last time, I need to ask him to forgive me for being such an arsehole all those years”.

The rep at the counter felt really bad for the guy as he stood there, she was not supposed to do this, Christopher Edge was listed as a priority passenger, but after chasing down the hallway and after having even gone to the toilet from locating Christopher via the mobile tracking system and finding only his mobile lying on the edge of the sink, she came back to the gate satisfied that she had done everything she could.

She fidgeted with Mr. Edge's mobile for a moment and then made a decision that she would regret for the rest of her life.

She nervously looked around the now empty gate room, there was no way in hell this Edge fellow would make it in time for the gate auto lock.

“I really shouldn't”, she said still peering down the hallway in case someone suddenly came storming down the aisle.

“Hurry, get on that plane, seat 39B, go!”, she said pressing the button to open the small pass through gates between the real gate and Ronald Chamberlain.

“I will remember this for the rest of my life”, Ronald said.

“From the bottom of my heart thank you for giving me this opportunity”, he added as he rushed by her towards Flight ARJ-3467 headed for Denver.

To Be continued in Part Two - Awakening!

Reckoning /ˈrɛk(ə)nɪŋ/

About Reckoning

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Promotional Materials

Part One – A terrible mistake!