The machine

   When the dust fell to the ground, the small group was able to see what was going on. In the dirt, some kind of machine had been found, buried not so deep under the ground in the middle of the forest. Trees had been cut down all around the area in order to make that area of the forest a secure perimeter for military and others to be able to unearth the strange machine from the ground. They had summoned experts from all over the place in other to help uncover the device and analyze its components and real nature.

 Several soldiers were ordered to wear special suits and then cleanup the surface of the machine. It was proven not to be radioactive, so it was safe to go near it. The small group that had witnessed the explosion that unearthed the machine was made up of top officials from most government agencies. They weren’t wearing their uniforms or anything that would let people know who they were or who they worked for. That was done in purpose, because of the attitudes of the people in the neighboring towns.

 They had seen trucks moving into the forest and there was noise that had never been heard. It was obvious something what was going on and the government had to come up with some excuse, so they told everyone it was all about a special session of training for most military personnel. The area was very cold and it was a challenging place to work in, so they could get away with such a lie. They could even use helicopters and other equipment, alleging that they were all taking part in the exercises.

 During the first week, they identified the components of the machine and discovered it was made of a very uncommon kind of titanium, which is a metal that does exist on Earth but it’s not as common as some people might think. Besides, the scientists found out the titanium had some aspects that would make people think the machine had been used in space. Some radiation was finally found, deep inside the machine, which could mean it used some kind of isotope to generate its own energy.

Still, it wasn’t dangerous to go near it. Military personnel took several pictures of it and they even recorded audio from it, as the strange device seemed to hum softly when everyone was silent. Of course, that was something difficult to achieve, but they were able to do some recordings at nights, when most of the soldiers left for the nearby base, where the fake military exercises were supposed to have their base on. The sound was supernatural, but calming and even beautiful to some of them. It was analyzed in various ways but no one was ever able to explain that hum, that strange song.

 They came up with various reasons for the machine to be there. The one that seemed to be more accepted was that the machine had been ejected in the upper atmosphere by some kind of probe or spy satellite operating in silence above everyone’s heads. It was probably some kind of device created to analyze the secret movements of other countries. It was difficult to explain the inner radiation, but other nations were conducting experiments in space, so maybe they had found out some way to convert Earth’s titanium.

 The idea that it could be a machine made by another country sparked controversy among top officials in the military and also from the government, who had been coming in larger numbers, as the second week of the operation ended. Not only they demanded for the machine to be transported somewhere else, some of they even advocated for the destruction of the device, as they thought it might still work as a spy machine, transmitting video and audio feeds to some unknown power that had done it all on purpose.

 Most of the things they said made no sense and were mostly rooted in silly fears and assumptions, but it was obvious they did have to transport the machine or do something with it. They couldn’t just stay there forever, as people would grow more and more suspecting of their activities. The machine was completely rooted out of the ground and it was analyzed if it could be moved without altering the core or any other element. Apparently, it could be done without any real danger.

 They ordered their largest helicopter to pick up the machine. When they attached to be lifted off during on a nocturnal flight, they discovered the machine was a lot lighter than it was supposed to be. The transportation was done in total silence and it the dark. In a matter of hours, the machine landed in an air base where a special hangar had been built to house the experts and the machine. The personnel assigned to the investigation were reduced, in order to avoid any leaks or intrusion by foreign powers.

 The investigation would go on for years. The machine would reveal some its secrets, as the one of its provenance, but never everything about what it could really do. It had been built as a spying device but there was much more to it. Something inside, in its core, told many more stories than the ones revealed.

 A small amount of researchers thought that the machine had been created with technology that was not widely available and required a very advanced set of knowledge and technology, that was non existent in the world, at least that’s what they had thought before encountering the humming machine on the ground.

Words of war

Dearest Adeline,

 I write from a hole in the ground. This might worry you, it might make you laugh or it might just make you curious. First, I would like to say I’m one hundred percent fine. I haven’t been injured, although I have seen a lot of that around me. It is a tough place to be in but one I feel I have to make people see. As usual, there are two rolls of film in this envelope that I trust you will deliver to my office as soon as you get the letter. They are very important pictures and I want them released fast.

 Sorry to make you work like this, as if you didn’t have anything else to do in this world, but the thing is I trust you, I really do. You are my best friend in the world and I wouldn’t trust anyone else with this delicate information. I’m even nervous that they could try to intercept it in its way home, but I know that is not a very likely thing to happen. When you’re in such a situation as this one, I guess you get a little paranoid and you start seeing things everywhere, expecting some kind of attack from any side.

 It is important that I tell you that, since Monday last week, I have been locked in this hole in the ground, as the battle ensues all around me. I have been trying to get away but the military tells me it would be suicide. I have even thought of going to the other side, as they would never kill a journalist with so many eyes looking at them. But that appears to be an impossibility right now, as bomber planes have been known to pass once or twice everyday and just flatten the ground between us and them with tons and tons of explosions.

 Besides that, I don’t really have anything to say besides asking how our you guys? I’ve heard of the political turmoil the war is causing there. But at least no violent acts have taken place and there’s still some shred of humanity back home. It might be silly to say, but I do trust them when it comes to defending freedom and all of that stuff. I have to believe in them because there’s no much else to believe in around these parts. I’ve seen too much to just turn cynical and stop caring about what’s going on.

 I’ll keep doing my job as well as I can because that’s all I can give at this moment. I wish love or caring was enough but the truth is, it just isn’t. These people get food rations every so often and it just doesn’t matter… But I have to keep believing. It’s all we have.

My best to you,

Ollie.

 My dear Ollie,

Hello. I have no real idea of how to start writing this letter. First of all, because I think its kind of fun that letters are still a thing in this very digital world. But as electricity is almost non-existent in that region, I understand that I must compel myself to write this words with a pen you gave me for my last birthday, the one you said belonged to a very well known author. He killed himself with this pen on his hand… How strange.

That was weird to write but the most important thing I have to tell you is that I have gotten all of your pictures to the paper. I had to argue with that idiot Melissa because she didn’t want me there. I guess that when you’re fired they don’t really want you back there, even if you have some killer pictures of one of the most important things happening in the world right now. I was tempted to kick her ass but I refrained myself. Aren’t you proud?

 Jonah and I went through all of your pictures and, I must say, I admire you. Some of them are just too much but they really do capture the horror of it all. We chose some that could be printed in the paper and I have a copy besides me right now. People seem to care and I think they will rally behind your pictures in order to stop all of this madness. Something has to be done. There’s too much blood in those pictures and, somehow, I feel as if there was a lot of blood in my hands now too.

 I have to confess I don’t understand your passion or your trust in the system. It’s this fucking system, which has caused all of this, the one that had killed those children in your pictures and so many more. I think it’s nice you think our country still stands for freedom and all of that shit, but you’re missing the point big time. If you could hear what they say and o here, I think that even a big patriot like you would not be able to deny how fucked up things are right now.

 It’s not my intention to pop your bubble but your work is too raw, too real to not be frank and honest about it. This is shit, Ollie. And they did it. The ones that love freedom and liberty and all the other crap. It was them who killed some many of those people.

 Anyway, keep doing your thing. It’s the only thing that matters now.

 I send you a hug,

Adeline.

REPORT #146 (CLASSIFIED)

-       SUBJECT: Termination of “Operation Thunder”

-       IMPORTANCE: Regional

-       DETAILS:

At 2 AM, local time, a squad of fifteen bombers was sent to the capital of the regime and was ordered to form a perimeter of explosions around the central compounds, in order to make the people in charge capitulate to our government. Although many fires and casualties were reported, there was no communication of any kind between our government and the regime we’ve been trying to suppress.

 At 4 AM, after failed attempts to contact their leaders, we ordered another pass with the same amount of bombers, in order to completely neutralize their central command. The presidential palace was confirmed to be destroyed, as well as all the adjacent building. Soldiers on the ground were ordered to stand by, to prevent any casualties from our side.

 At 4:30 AM, word got out of the country that not all our hits had been on target. Some of them had destroyed city blocks adjacent to the presidential palace. We acknowledged that earlier, in a closed door meeting, but somehow the information got out in record time, despite the lack of electricity or any real type of communications.

 At 5:15 AM, soldiers had been ordered to sweep the attacked area in order to look for survivors. One rogue agent was reported to have killed a high-ranking officer of the enemy’s army, no confirmation on the deceased’s identity. High command has ordered this information to be classified as soon as possible. No other survivors had been found at that time.

 At 9:45 PM, of the same day, a clandestine Internet server was found in a remote neighborhood of the city. The army was ordered to destroy the structure, before anyone else could verify its existence. Inside the destroyed building, soldiers found everything necessary to make a temporal Internet connection. Army officer are investigating further at the moment.

 The cease-fire has been ordered for midday the next day. Soldiers and crafts have been deployed to every single region. We are in stand by for Operation Endurance, which should commence in mere hours. Com out.

Lost and never found

   What was once deemed to be the center of all known civilization, the epitome of culture and grandiosity, fell in one day. The rain did the rest and the jungle became the one to truly make the city a myth. Where people one traded, lived and loved, an entanglement of branches and leaves now existed. Animals now thrived were ancient philosophers had posed the most interesting questions and had also attempted to answer them. Fish swam up the streets that people had once used daily, not even noticing them.

 The cataclysm was so abrupt and effective, that no one else in the entire world ever knew about that city. And even those who had once visited now thought they could have been mistaken. Maybe they had been somewhere else and not there, not the city of myth. Forgotten, its walls and stone sculptures fell to the ground and were promptly consumed by the jungle. After a while, only the strongest pillars and rocks where still there, but it would have been very difficult to prove a city had stood there.

 The indigenous peoples that inhabited the jungle preserved the ideas behind the city, but they were so entrenched after years and years, that they really couldn’t say what was theirs and what had been borrowed from those people in the past. Maybe it was their ways of hunting or maybe they had inherited all of their cosmology from those ancient humans. Their villages were much smaller and their people did not have the same kind of vision of their world, but it would have been very sad if nothing had remained.

 Explorers had come every so often, thinking they would be to unwrap the mystery and reveal to the world some magnificent new discovery. However, they only had ancient writing and stories to navigate the jungle with, and that wasn’t nearly enough. They would often get lost and then be found starving to death, or the jungle and its animals would defend their existence against them with the maximum sentence. Bodies were known to be seen floating down the river, sometimes only parts of them.

 However, some of those explorers were able to find bits and pieces that made the possibility of the city being rediscovered a reality. The first one to find something was a foreigner that had no intention to become an explorer but did nevertheless. He was eleven years old and had been visiting the area with his parents, on a river cruise. The boy fell in the rapids, were the boats had difficulties navigating, and he was found to be alive only a few kilometers down the river. The most fascinating thing was the object he was holding when rescued from a lonely rock on one side of the river.

 At first glance, it was a long object, kind of white but also yellowish, with holes on one side and a larger hole on one end. Clearly, it was some kind of musical instrument resembling a flute. However, when the kid’s parents checked the object, they realized it wasn’t made out of wood or something similar. The flute was made with bone. Of course, the parents were disgusted by that and thought instantly that it was something belonging to one of the tribes living in the vicinity.

 When they reached civilization, they left the object in a museum. There, it was proven to be a musical instrument but not one used by the indigenous peoples. It was too advanced for them and too refined for their tastes, which were much simpler. The flute the kid had discovered had been carefully carved and its holes had been drilled with a magnificent precision. The discovery was a revolution, because it was something found on an area that had no relation to such craftsmanship.

 The museum officials asked the kid’s parents to interview the boy before they left for their country. He told them that he had found the flute by accident, when kicking and tossing and turning after he had fallen of the boat. He said that he had felt the object just after falling, so among the rapids. The kid grabbed thinking it could help him hold on to something, but the flute was freed from the bottom of the river and then floated with the boy until boat reached the rock where they were found.

 The kid was then interviewed by several news outlets of the country, as the flute had become a very interesting subject for them. Yet, people from other places seemed to be a little bit doubtful of the whole thing. Granted, no real tests had been done to the flute and the kid’s story could be a very elaborate lie. For all that they knew, the parents could have been liars trying to get some attention out of the whole thing. The fact that they were actors in Hollywood didn’t really help their case at all.

 But the museum continued its research, trying not to pay attention to the barrage of critics and doubts everyone was pouring in. They tested the object with carbon and were able to prove the flute was much older than any of the objects used by any of the tribes living in the jungle. Even the ones that lived deep inside it all could not have been the creators of such a piece. The bone was then analyzed and it didn’t really surprise anyone when it was revealed it was actually a human bone. It was a humerus, to be more precise. Someone had used it to create music, entertainment.

 Now, that discovery really traveled the globe. Of course, other people in the world had created musical instruments from bones too but this was such an interesting story that it was just too much not to exploit it. Everyone in the planet was talking about the flute made out of human bone that a kid had discovered deep in a secluded jungle. It was an interesting thing to hear about and speculations started to pop up from every single corner. Everyone had just become an expert.

Some thought that it was maybe not an ancient piece of history but some prank. Others thought it had been made by the lone survivor of some doomed expedition. Some even proposed the theory that aliens, beings from some unknown world, could have been the creators of the object. And all of those were some of the most common ideas that people had, with the one about the aliens being the most repeated one in social media and all over the Internet. People loved to have a mystery in their hands.

 Meanwhile, the experts kept on working. They soon discovered something even more mysterious, that they couldn’t just corroborate: the bone had been proven to be one from a Caucasian man, an actual man from the Caucasus region. That place was thousands and thousands of kilometers away and, somehow, and ancient bone from that region had been discovered in a jungle with holes to make music with. It did make any sense but it was what it was, and they checked their results several times.

 They even lend the object to other museums and scientists, also inviting them to visit the flute and sharing knowledge. But after the last discovery, they had nothing. They even sent explorer to the area where the kid had found the flute in order to comb the area. It was a very difficult job and also dangerous, but they did it and spent several months there. Nothing came out of it. Only people affected by spider and snake venom, attacks by eels and confrontations with very angry indigenous peoples.

 They would never know how a young kid, a girl, had once owned that flute. She had used it to entertain herself. When the cataclysm came, and they all had to abandon their city, the girl took the flute with her but sadly dropped it in the river, hundreds of kilometers away from the place where it was found.

 The flute was made from the bone of a man they had brought into the city as a slave. He had been shown around, like an animal, for people to see what existed beyond their borders. The man eventually died and his caretaker, the girl’s father, took one of his bones from the funeral pyre for himself.

Camilla's aunt

   The man closest to the window started screaming, slamming the table with his fists, launching to the floor every single piece of the chess game he was playing with a younger man. That one looked like a younger and saner version of the person that was being carried away to his room by two big men in blue uniforms. The kid looked on in disbelief and fear, as his father kicked the air and screamed nonsense. A minute late, it was as if nothing had happened on the room.

 Camilla turned around and looked at her aunt Matilda. She had always had the most beautiful hair in her family: it was long and silky, jet black like the night sky. Her mother told Camilla that she had gotten her hair color from her aunt but that was everything she had that was similar to her aunt. That poor woman was now on a wheelchair and she drooled often, her mother having to clean it from her mouth and lap every few lines of a conversation that was one sided, as Matilda couldn’t talk.

 Her mother had always told Camilla that no one really understood why her aunt had fallen ill like that. As far as she knew, it had happened overnight or after a night fever or something like that. Camilla’s mother liked to invent new realities every time a subject so touchy came up. It was not as if she didn’t wanted to talk about it but rather, her subconscious had created different versions of what had happened to protect her. Her story kept changing every time she was asked about it.

 They stayed in the hospital for ten more minutes, then a nurse came around to tell everyone to leave as visiting hours had finished. Camilla kissed her aunt on the cheek and it was then, in a second, when she saw a flicker of something, probably life, deep inside her aunt’s eyes. Camilla didn’t have any time to respond or to say a word. Her mother took her hand and Camilla just walked until they reached the parking lot. Once inside the car, on the passenger seat, she wondered looking at the sky.

 Once they got home, rain began to fall from the sky, first kindly and then harder. Camilla sat down in front of her computer and started reading about psychiatric disorders and then about the places people like her aunt were put into when no doctors could point out what was wrong. She saw horrible pictures and read awful essays and articles from all over the place and was only interrupted when her nine-year-old brother came to show her that he had caught a toad outside the house. He had spent his day with their father, playing ball in some park.

 Camille humored her brother for a while but then she started thinking about her aunt again. She wondered if Matilda was curious still about the world around her. Would she be interested on a toad if she saw one through her room window or would she just stare, looking at nothing in particular? Then again, she had no idea if her aunt had a window in her bedroom. It was very likely but the place did look old and people never seemed to care a lot about mental health.

 She came up to this conclusion when one her classmates, a girl called Anna, committed suicide back in high school. They still had two more years to go and the poor girl couldn’t take any of it anymore. Camilla felt awful when it happened, as she felt she had never really cared about that particular girl. She knew she couldn’t be friends with every single person but anyway, guilt is like that. Unexplainable and painful. All the girls went to the burial and they all seemed concerned.

 However, the school never really addressed what had happened. They did tell everyone for a couple of days that, if they needed help, they could always go to the school therapist and tell him whatever they needed to say. A couple of girls did go but their problems were much easier to solve than the one that Anna must have had. Camilla tried hard to learn more about her deceased classmate, but she stopped when the mother yelled at her over the phone, calling her a pervert.

 There were all sorts of rumors: Anna was a closeted lesbian or she was a nihilistic teenager that wanted the world to end. Others said she was always on drugs while others blamed alcohol. Camilla even heard a teacher once saying that the girl must have had a secret pregnancy or, even worse, an abortion. But there was nothing to proof any of those theories. They only knew that a girl had died and all of a sudden a world of stories was born, about someone they had never bothered to really know.

 Camilla wondered all night if Anna and Matilda had anything that connected them, besides probable mental issues. She wanted to know more about the subject and she decided, very late at night, that she had to learn about it, no matter what. So the next day, before class, she decided to spend a couple of hours in the university’s library, where a towering amount of scientific book awaited her. She chose three of the ones that seemed less hard to understand and she started reading. About the brain, about the nervous system and about all kinds of psychological theories.

 By the time she came out of the library, her head felt full of information. A headache haunted her for the rest of the day, at class and even after having a generous launch. Her friend Bastian asked her about what was wrong with her but she decided not to tell anyone about her hunt for answers. She didn’t want everyone to look at her as if she was crazy. Because that’s something recurring she learned from the books: people trying to get answers are always labeled as crazy themselves.

 She blamed the headache for her attitude that day and decided to skip the last class, which was always very boring anyway. She did think about going home but, instead, Camilla decided to walk around a little bit. That way, she could avoid answering annoying questions at home about why she was so early at home. She wandered through some parks, a mall and several streets. She never got lost because she knew her way but aunt Matilda was always in her mind. Then, she knew what to do.

 Some twenty minutes later, she was waiting in the same room she had been the day before with her mother. But this time she was by herself, waiting for a male nurse to come with her aunt. She knew her mother was not going to like this visit but she didn’t care. Somehow, she knew that the answers that she was looking for where there, enclosed in one of the many rooms that had been built specially for people like her aunt, absent almost completely from all reality and sense.

 When the male nurse rolled her aunt in and left, Camilla looked straight to Matilda’s eyes and waited. She wanted to know if that glimmer had being something of one day or if signs of inner life could be seen again. Nothing happened. Camilla grab each of her aunt’s hands with her own and then smile at her. Matilda’s skin was a bit rough but she somehow knew she had being stunningly beautiful when she was younger. Her mother had failed to show her pictures of their past.

 Pushed by something, some strange feeling, Camilla went closer to her aunt. Her lips were a few centimeters away from one of her aunt’s ear. She doubted for a second but then asked the question she wanted answered, or at least one of them: “What happened to you?”

 She pulled back and waited. Her aunt’s eyes seemed dead for a moment, but then she saw that flicker again, a spark of life inside her aunt. Then, one word was spoken by Matilda. Camilla had to get closer to hear properly. And when she did, her world was turned upside down.