Oracle - Solar Wind (Vol. 4)

By C.W. Trisef

The mounting burdens finally become too much for Ret, and he abandons his destiny to "cure the world." But the Oracle has much more to teach our young hero, even powers unseen. Things heat up and then really cool down as the quest for the fourth element extends to the bottom of the globe.

Join Ret as he braves an abominable snow beast, ventures deep inside Antarctica's most ancient glacier, and then needs help from a certain loved one as he comes face-to-face with his toughest challenge yet: himself.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Mar 12, 2014
• ISBN: 9781948173247

Book preview

Reception

CHAPTER 0

REUNITED NATIONS

This is an outrage!

A catastrophe!

A calamity!

An international crisis, to be sure!

We’re all doomed!

The planet is under attack!

It’s aliens, I tell you—aliens!

There’s no telling what’ll happen next!

First, there was the mega-quake in the Atlantic—

Magnitude 18.3—can you believe it?

It’s the Bermuda Triangle—what do you expect?

"Our geologists say the sinkhole is still filling up."

"And we’re still finding bodies."

Then came the volcanic explosion in the Pacific—

Swallowed Easter Island whole.

And I just vacationed there last year.

I knew there was something strange about those giant statues.

And now this!

A river through the Sahara Desert!

I didn’t believe it until I saw it.

It’s draining the Mediterranean Sea!

And all the earth’s oceans with it!

This is the end of the world as we know it.

"Does anyone doubt global warming now?"

The Mayans were right!

A man stepped up to the podium, looking rather overwhelmed. Ladies and gentlemen, the man said, his voice barely audible over the din of the riotous crowd.

He tried again. Excuse me—please, please! But the uproar continued without the slightest sign of letting up.

Tired of being ignored, the otherwise polite man screwed up his face and yelled into the microphone, Ladies and gentlemen, will you please be quiet! He banged his white-knuckled fist on the podium, sending a loud booming noise through the sound system and dislodging a small glass globe that had been placed near the microphone for decoration. A hush fell over the audience as every pair of eyes turned to watch the globe roll off the podium and bounce three times on the marble floor. Its tempered glass did not shatter but it cracked in a few places before it eventually came to rest.

Seeing he now had everyone’s attention, the frazzled man took a deep breath, readjusted his necktie, and finally began his prepared remarks.

On behalf of the United Nations, I thank you all for coming to this emergency meeting of the General Assembly, convened this nineteenth day of April, at the United Nations General Assembly Hall in New York City. I believe representatives from all 193 member states are present to discuss the important matters affecting our world.

The citizens of Italy demand an explanation! shouted the Italian delegation.

Our coastlines are devastated! complained the Greeks.

And what about our farmland? the Egyptians added. The Nile delta is in ruins!

Coasts and farms can be replaced, countered the consulate from Chile. Easter Island is gone—it disappeared overnight!

Just like our economy! a representative from the Bahamas said. Tourism to our islands has vanished since the mega-quake.

The man at the podium brought his hand to his face and rubbed his forehead. Reminding them why they were all gathered together had only caused them to resume their bickering. In all his years as Secretary-General, he had never witnessed so much engagement in a meeting of the General Assembly. Nations blamed one another, took sides with one another, reaching frantically for help.

What do you expect us to do with this river that just barged across our borders? the Libyans and Algerians asked. Our native tribes already don’t like us.

The sea level keeps dropping every hour, representatives from Spain and Morocco pointed out. It’s only a matter of time before the Strait of Gibraltar becomes too shallow for ships to pass through—

—and every port worldwide becomes inaccessible.

What should we do?

How do we pay for this?

What do we tell our people?

Who knows what Mother Nature will throw at us next?

Why are these terrible things happening?

The earth is seeking revenge for centuries of pollution!

The time to go green is now!

I’m telling you, it’s aliens!

Mankind must flee to the moon!

Who can save us now?

Suddenly, at the height of the panic, the double doors at the back of the room burst open. Everyone turned to see a man standing in the doorway. A brilliant light at his back outlined his strong physique but masked his identity in black silhouette.

Alarmed by the surprise entrance, the Secretary-General called for security.

Wait, sir! the newcomer protested. It’s me: Lionel Zarbock.

The Secretary-General thought for a moment then, remembering, said, Ah, Dr. Zarbock, head of the International Atomic Energy Agency. Isn’t that right?

You are correct, sir, Lionel replied respectfully, taking a few steps forward. I have some important information to report to the General Assembly if I may—information I believe each of you will find vital to your meeting today.

Feeling relieved, the Secretary-General bowed and said, The floor is yours, doctor.

Lionel began to walk slowly towards the center of the room. The large hall, built for delivering speeches, had round walls that gradually escalated toward a wider ceiling. At one end of the hall was a dais, the raised platform where the podium stood directly in front of a few chairs for the highest-ranking officials to sit. The rest of the room was filled with tables and chairs, enough to accommodate several hundred people, all facing toward the front. Mirrors lined the walls, and bright spotlights shined down on the assembly from overhead.

Mr. President, Mr. Secretary-General, fellow delegates, ladies and gentlemen, Lionel began, these are perilous times, uncertain times, filled with headaches and heartaches, times that are bringing death and destruction to our very doorsteps. He stood in front of the podium near the first row of seats, preferring to use his booming voice instead of the microphone.

Over the last several months, we have watched strange events rock our world. A so-called earthquake swallowed part of the Atlantic Ocean and snuffed out hundreds of thousands of lives. He motioned to the representatives from the Islands of the Bahamas, who nodded affirmatively. An entire island in the Pacific erupted in lava and sank into the sea, taking all of its people and history with it. He nodded at the Chilean table. And, just days ago, a string of events occurred that was even more surreal than the other instances: the devastating collapse of an Egyptian pyramid, the reversal of the mighty Nile, the draining of the Mediterranean Sea, and the emergence of a Great River in the middle of the Sahara. He made eye contact with every representative of nations affected by the recent events.

And now, here we are, gathered together to try to make sense of it all. Despite our differences, a common thread unites us: we are all victims. We are the victims of heinous acts committed by an unknown hand. I’m here today to tell you I know who is responsible for these atrocities. They are not the work of Mother Nature—oh no. They result from selfish actions of one man—a young man, in fact—named Ret Cooper.

Lionel could see he captivated the audience. Every single person—from the delegates, to the clerks, to the translators—listened to Lionel’s every word, almost in an attitude of worship. The hall, which had hitherto been as clamorous as a zoo, was now as silent as a morgue.

Lionel certainly knew how to work a crowd. Everything he said seemed to be everything his listeners wanted to hear. His words flowed like sweet music. With an age in the thirty-somethings, with dark hair and dark eyes, Lionel was tall and strapping. He knew he had a commanding presence and he reveled in his powerful, natural charisma. His audience listened intently to his every word.

And who is Ret Cooper? Lionel pressed on, knowing he had everyone’s undivided attention. I know him quite well, actually. We first met in a place called Sunken Earth. Lionel took out his cell phone, synced it with the hall’s projector, and used it to display pictures from Sunken Earth on the large screens on the walls. The representatives greeted each photo with exclamations, his evidence reinforcing the truth of his words.

Sunken Earth was the name of The Lost City of Atlantis that once existed underneath the Atlantic Ocean, home to an advanced civilization, millions of innocent people, and— he paused for dramatic emphasis the earth element. The crowd replied with grunts of confusion. Yes, the earth element—the source from which all dirt and soil and minerals on this planet come. It is a small thing that wields immense power. Ret took it right out of Sunken Earth. That earthquake—the one whose aftermath we all have to deal with now—wasn’t an earthquake at all. It was the collapse of an underwater civilization.

A hundred whispered conversations filled the air in response to Lionel’s revelatory words.

But that was just the beginning, Lionel resumed, killing the quiet conversations. Ret moved on to find the next element in his greedy quest for power: the element of fire. Lionel walked as he talked. Beginning at the first table, he looked directly into the eyes of the delegates from Afghanistan and smiled until he knew he had their trust, either out of faith or fear. He slowly reached for the small replica of that country’s flag, right next to the placard bearing the country’s name, then moved to the next table, the one with Albanian delegates. There, he followed much the same protocol, gaining their trust and then collecting their flag. Algeria, Andorra, Angola—one by one, he continued his narrative, collecting flags as he went.

I bet you can guess where the fire element was hiding, Lionel said. "Why don’t you tell us, Chile?"

Easter Island! a pair of indignant voices shouted back.

Indeed! Lionel agreed amid angry grumbles, which only intensified as photographs of the island’s demise flashed across the large screens. But did Ret care? Did Ret show even the slightest ounce of concern for those nearly 900 Moai statues that you and I came to adore? No.

More flags: Cambodia, Cameroon, Canada. One of the Canadian delegates wore a bowler hat. Lionel removed it from the man’s bald head and asked, May I borrow this? Seemingly intimidated by Lionel, the Canadian obliged with a nervous nod of his head. Don’t worry, Lionel reassured him, there’s nothing to be worried aboot. The Canadians smiled as they heard Lionel use one of their colloquialisms. He flipped over the hat and used it to hold his growing collection of flags.

Most recently, Ret Cooper, said Lionel, moving to a new set of pictures, had the gall to launch a personal attack on the Egyptian pyramids—those iconic symbols of mystery and majesty. The people from Egypt voiced their agreement. He destroyed the Nile and the Sahara. North African delegates sounded a rallying call. And now every coastal nation is watching its shores recede ever farther—all for what? So Ret Cooper could get his precious ore element?

Haiti. Honduras. Hungary.

Each picture served to remind everyone of the destruction wrought by this dreadful person named Ret Cooper. With each image, Lionel poured salt into the delegates’ already deep wounds.

Philippines. Poland. Portugal.

Three elements down, only three to go, Lionel told them. "He already has the device to collect them, thanks to the Oracle in his pocket, and he will soon know where to find them, thanks to the scars on his hands. The question for us, my friends, is where will he strike next?

Could it be in your area of the world, perhaps? he said, glaring into the eyes of the Russian representatives who, without hesitation, picked up the Russian flag and presented it to Lionel like a gift. What destruction will he wreak next? How many more lives will he see fit to extinguish as he continues his rampage across our world?

What must we do? someone shouted.

We must stop him, came Lionel’s quick reply, at any cost. There’s no telling what might happen if he collects all six elements. He’d be more terrible than a thousand tyrants!

How? How can we stop him?

Send a battalion of UN peacekeeping forces.

Our nation pledges ten-thousand troops.

Capital punishment!

We can supply a dozen drones.

No, no, Lionel rebutted, we can’t do things this way. Enough blood has spilled.

What do you suggest?

"Let me resolve this, Lionel told them. I know where the young man lives. I know where he goes to school. I know who his family and friends are. I know his strengths, his fears, his weaknesses. Grant me ready access to your resources, and I will promise to stop Ret Cooper before he collects the sixth element."

Singapore. Slovakia. Slovenia.

All in favor of pledging Dr. Lionel Zarbock free access to each nation’s resources, the Secretary-General announced from the podium, please vote in the affirmative.

The United States objects to such a resolution, the American delegates promptly declared.

I can understand your hesitation, my fine American friends, Lionel said. Let me tell you something else that I’m sure you’ll find most intriguing. If everyone would please turn his or her attention to the image on the screen. A satellite image of the world appeared next in the slideshow, with the Atlantic Ocean in the center. This was the position of the earth’s continents just before Sunken Earth imploded and triggered the so-called mega-quake. It looked perfectly normal, as far as anyone could decipher. "Now, let’s compare it to the continents’ positions today, shall we?" When Lionel advanced the presentation, the current slide remained unchanged while a second satellite image of the world came into view, except the top image was transparent so when it lay over the first map the onlookers could see the differences between the two images.

And there certainly were differences.

Gasps of shock bounced off the round walls of the assembly hall as everyone learned a startling fact.

Yes, it’s true, ladies and gentlemen, Lionel stated soberly. The natural movement of the continents has not only been reversed but also greatly accelerated. Each element exerts tremendous and continuous amounts of energy, but when one becomes trapped inside the Oracle, it leaves behind a great void in the earth. This sudden power struggle causes plates to shift, the seafloor to buckle, and volcanoes and pyramids to crumble. So, the void in the Bermuda Triangle pushed the North American continent in a new, southwestward direction while the explosive demise of Easter Island pushed South America into a north-westward one. And the recent activity in Africa has already sent that continent heading eastward.

Such a troubling reality cast a dark cloud over the proceedings.

Well, that explains why our barges have been taking longer to sail to and from the Americas, the Chinese said amongst themselves.

Maybe this is why the fuel usage for many of our airplanes has been so erratic, the delegates from India said.

You’ve known this for almost a year and are just now telling us about it? the American consulate accused, showing continued distrust. Why didn’t you tell us sooner?

I tried, Lionel confessed. Do you not remember when I approached the assembly last year and reported on the condition of all the world’s nuclear reactors following the so-called mega-quake? In my remarks, I said I had reason to believe the regular movement of the earth’s tectonic plates may have been disrupted.

Did you now? the American scoffed. Then, calling out to the archivists, he said, Check the minutes. While the archivists skimmed the electronic archives of past proceedings, the Americans glanced back at the unsettling images on the screen and whispered among themselves, "How could we forget something like this?"

Actually, as I recall, Lionel said, attempting to hide a grin, the assembly dismissed my claim as non-threatening and said it would be investigated at a later date.

Just then, an archivist reread the minutes from the former meeting, confirming Lionel’s recollections in their entirety. Proven wrong, the American delegates sat down and as Lionel walked away with their Stars and Stripes.

These are perilous times, Lionel repeated with vigor, concluding his remarks the way they began. The current problems that vex your countries are serious, yes, but not nearly as serious as the danger we’ll be in if the continents collide into each other. The time to act is now, my friends. With your help, I can stop Ret Cooper and make sure the elements remain under the care of the United Nations. Then, and only then, can we use the great power of the elements to repair, at least in part, the damage that has already been done and prevent any more from occurring. With the elements in our possession, we can keep the continents from crashing into one another and save the world.

Yemen. Zambia. And, finally, Zimbabwe.

All those in favor of bestowing upon Lionel Zarbock all rights, privileges, and powers he deems necessary to carry out his stated objectives, the Secretary-General announced, please vote in the affirmative now.

They cast the votes and tallied the numbers, then broadcasted the results on the wall for all to see. It was a landslide.

Congratulations, Dr. Zarbock, the Secretary-General said from the podium, amid thunderous applause from the floor. We expect you to make regular reports of your efforts in this most important matter.

I will, Lionel promised, smiling as he walked from the back of the room, where he’d collected Zimbabwe’s flag, up to the front. He clutched his hat full of flags. It is with the greatest humility that I accept this responsibility. Given my close association with Ret and his wrongdoings, I feel it is my duty to do my part to help the world in these troubled times. I will not disappoint you. Thank you.

At the end of his impromptu acceptance speech, the delegates again erupted in celebration. Nations which had been accusing one another moments ago now embraced each other with rekindled hope. Instead of pointing fingers, they shook hands. Everyone stood reunited, thanks to him.

Upon reaching the front of the hall, Lionel turned to face his admirers. He bent down and picked up the small glass globe that had fallen from the podium earlier. Then, with globe in one hand and flags in the other, he triumphantly raised his hands into the air, causing the standing crowd to cheer even louder.

From that moment on, and in more than one way, Lionel Zarbock had the whole world in the palm of his hand.

CHAPTER 1

A HOUSE DIVIDED

Ret wasn’t himself these days. He didn’t feel like his normal, happy self. Neither was he thinking like his normal, hopeful self. In fact, he didn’t even look like his normal, abnormal self. Truth be told, he didn’t want to be himself anymore. So he wasn’t.

He returned from Africa with a lot more mental baggage than he had brought—the metaphorical kind, the kind that weighs nothing on a scale but tons on one’s heart. A slew of unsavory souvenirs stuffed his imaginary suitcases. Sitting right on top was a neuroscope, which never failed to bring Conrad to the forefront of his mind, with a blue lotus flower tucked in each pocket to give everything the scent of Lydia. The bulk of the baggage came from the sandstone blocks—a whole pyramid’s worth—each a reminder of the ancient Egyptian structure he’d destroyed. A scrapbook of mental photographs chronicled the upheaval he brought to the Nile River, its delta, and the millions of people who depended on both—just in case he ever wanted to flip through its pages and do some reminiscing on a Sunday afternoon.

Yes, there was so much figurative luggage to keep in check that Ret seriously wondered if he could carry on.

Yet, he had one possession that, though perhaps the lightest, seemed to weigh more than all the rest: the Oracle. The glass sphere, no bigger than an orange, now contained half of its six original elements. These were the most painful souvenirs of all. The only thing that remained of the lost city of Sunken Earth was the dirt clod now wedged into one of the Oracle’s six sections. Likewise, all that remained of the doused Fire Island was a single flame. But the Oracle’s newest addition—a golden nugget—was leaving a legacy as large as a river, and that Great River of ore was now snaking its watery way across the entire width of the Sahara Desert.

It was the river that seemed to wash over Ret’s mind the most, especially when he and the others were still in Africa. The continent proved to be a place that was easier to get into than out of. The aftermath of Ret’s procurement of the ore element had brought immense chaos to the entire Saharan region almost overnight. Every nation was on high alert. Security had been beefed up everywhere. Some governments were calling the cataclysmic changes a large-scale terrorist attack; others attributed it to a series of natural disasters. A wave of fear had swept from east to west as news of this Great River spread. No one knew where to the river would flow. Would it plunge straight through the heart of a major city? Would it collide with an existing body of water and cause widespread flooding? Pandemonium over possibilities was rampant.

In fact, it was enough to convince Mr. Coy that he and his companions needed to distance themselves from the river as much as possible if they ever wanted to return home—alive and not in handcuffs. Soon after their graveside tributes to the martyrs Conrad and Lydia, everyone piled back into Coy’s All-terrain Vehicle Extraordinaire (or CAVE, for short) and put as many miles between them and the river as quickly as they could. At Ishmael’s request, the group bid farewell to him at a remote village in northern Libya where some of his distant relatives lived. Doing so took them in a direction that was pretty much opposite the one in which they needed to go, adding another day or two of travel time to their schedule, but they were in no rush.

At least, that’s how they wanted to be perceived, for the fact of the matter was they were in a great rush, hoping to escape before someone found them out. Instead of blazing their own trail and quickly cutting through the desert, they took the long way—the unsettlingly scenic route along the common roads and highways. But because the entire region was essentially on lockdown, there were roadside checkpoints into and out of each country and major city, and, as expected, every single one stopped them for inspections. Since it wasn’t exactly your average mid-sized sedan, the CAVE was a sitting duck in such situations, and it didn’t help that its passengers were five American tourists. People didn’t seem to look at (or, more appropriately, overlook) them in quite the same way as when Ishmael, Lydia, and Conrad had been with them.

As they had made their way west from Tripoli to Algiers, then south from Morocco into Mauritania, and further down until they were finally in Liberia, Ret witnessed firsthand how the entire continent was abuzz with talk of the Sahara’s new waterfront. Whenever traffic slowed to a crawl in congested downtown centers (which was often), the little English being spoken