Ladies in Hades and the Dyval Wears Prada
Chapter 9: Alex's Anecdote
I once found a letter in my pocket. I’d like to share it with you:
My name is Alex. Once, a long time ago, I ran the Allen Telescope Array at UC Berkeley for an organization called SETI (Search for Extra-Terrestrial Intelligence). Young for my position, I was a doctoral student at the school, and an Astronomy buff. Our hope was to find evidence of alien lifeforms proactively so that we would be able to develop a policy for First Contact. In the year 2098, everything changed. A corporation known as KLS Aerospace began to advertise a new technology dubbed The Gateway to the Future so we began talks with them on what exactly this new technology was to see if it could be integrated with our own and enhance our search.
After a year of work with KLS, it became clear that they were solely profit based and were taking great risks with this seemingly “magic” technology. My colleagues and II pulled our facilities out of the project one by one and a clear rift had formed in the intellectual community over the use of this new technology. Their side argued that it needed to be used and exploited for the good of humanity and ours was calling for it to be slowed down, studied, and tested before any issue arose. And then the Cataclysm destroyed everything.
SETI was unable to complete its mission as the aliens or “D-Bees” found us first. Ill equipped to deal with the destruction from the ley line energy and sudden influx of creatures from wherever and whenever, humanity fell. If it wasn’t for the quick thinking of the Northern Eagle Military Alliance (NEMA), I doubt any of us would be left at all. Did KLS trigger the event? Was there something else at work? No one may ever know.
In the aftermath, I joined up with survivors at the college and we eventually made our way to the east coast of California where a NEMA camp was rumored to be set up. We were able to see the wall of energy pouring out of the rift separating Nevada and California from miles away and I felt it calling me, pulling me towards it. Late one night in camp, the urge became too much and I snuck out of camp and headed towards the feeling like a moth to a flame.
Regardless of who “Alex” was, he or she clearly wanted their story told. Why else take the time to write it down and pass it off to a stranger? I feel fortunate to have made this connection to the past and to be able to share Alex’s story with you.
And now, your moment of Zen:
Living on as part of me
Now will always be