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Professor Merriman awoke into a tumultuous world, the kernel of an insight weighing heavy on his mind. He was surprised to find himself admitted to a military hospital, very much out of isolation. Circumstances, he quickly discovered, had changed.

He had been asleep for almost 72 hours. In the space of three days it seemed the entire human race had gone mad.

Merriman tried to leave right away, mumbling unhelpfully to himself. The doctor flatly refused to discharge him, of course, and when Merriman attempted to stand anyway, he nearly fell head first into the wall, like a teetering drunk. Frustrated Merriman laid back down and demanded that The Book be brought to his room immediately, along with several other texts.

Bright sun streamed through the hospital windows, draping Merriman’s bed in light. Over cold chocolate pudding, which he was told to eat slowly along with some from-concentrate orange juice, Merriman waited anxiously for his materials to arrive and watched the news.

And what foul news it was. A world at war, Russia fighting land battles everywhere. Europe responding with tanks of their own, the U.S., and every other country on Earth, sending the brunt of its military into the conflict. All sides had so far restrained themselves from using nuclear weapons, but the noose was tightening. The object approaching Earth could no longer be ignored. It was visible to the naked eye now.

Merriman watched as scenes of war from around the world flashed onto the screen, documentary evidence of the Russian’s fighting on every front at once, an unlikely alliance of countries coming from all sides. NATO tanks lining up in the streets of Prague exchanging explosive ordinance with unseen Russian forces. Turkish, Georgian and Armenian soldiers running a sortie against entrenched Russian troops in the countryside outside Tbilisi. Chinese infantry advancing in a wave to retake the obscure Northern city Qiqihar, from Russian invasion.

It was madness, the Russians had even sent troops into Alaska, taking Nome, Wales, Tin City, York and Port Clarence. Of course, America responded with overwhelming military force, and currently thousands of troops were en route to each tiny Northern town.

Merriman was no military tactician, but the Russian plan seemed to him clear as day: Delay at all costs. Attack everyone and everywhere, all at once – keep the world off balance. At Cairo, the Russian’s had bet on the Book and the promise of otherworldly empowerment. Now, they were doubling down on that bet, going all in. They just needed to delay for a little while more, keep the rest of the world occupied, leaving the Russian’s alone to meet with whatever all powerful force, whatever King maker, was headed for Earth. No doubt Russian high command was already chomping at the bit, drawing up plans for future Empire when Russia, like the ancient Egyptians before it, was empowered by technologies beyond imagining.

As Merriman watched the ongoing coverage, he could not help but feel ashamed – not of anything he had done, but ashamed to be a human being. Merriman found the Russian response to this historical moment abhorrent and selfish, but, if he was honest with himself, Merriman knew that this scenario was unavoidable. Had the American’s found and deciphered the Book first, there was a high likelihood they too would have hoarded the knowledge and attempted to influence the outcome. The same could be said for every major power on Earth. It was simply human nature to fight and deceive one another in search of domination, of power. This outcome was inevitable.

It was that very inevitability which Merriman could not stop thinking about since awakening. Dreaming of the Book, of The Path, those three days, something struck Merriman’s unconscious mind, an incongruity. Now, watching the news, the thought from his dreams coalesced into words.

Here were these all powerful creatures, whatever they were, crafting this complex series of tests, all to gauge and guide the high minded growth of an incipient intelligence – yet they arranged the Third Phase of that test as a reductive, even regressive, race to the finish line. It made no sense. It was incongruous.

One of the two soldiers who had effectively abducted and then guarded Merriman during the translation walked into the hospital room, the pile of books in his arms nearly spilling over onto the floor. The two officers had grown somewhat attached to Merriman during his weeks of isolation, and they had started to treat the Professor with a paternal, protective air. So, it was with a relieved smile that the Officer looked over at Merriman, laying back with several empty pudding cups arrayed on a tray in front of him. “Where would you like these sir?”

Merriman pointed at the wide window sill by the bed, simultaneously pushing himself upright and pressing the button to make the back of the bed electronically whir up until he was sitting up straight. “Put them by the window, and bring me the Manuscript and the Mahman.” Merriman donned his reading glasses and pushed the adjustable tray on a swivel arm out from in front of him. “Quickly now, every moment counts.”

The young officer dumped the huge pile of books and papers on the sill, sifted through until he found the well worn copy of the Book and Mahman’s tome, and spun around to hand them to Merriman. The Professor wasted no time and flung both books open, his renewed and rested mind already racing, searching for the puzzle’s answer.

The officer watched, a little worry showing on his face. “Sir, are you sure you’re up to this? So soon I mean? You were in pretty bad shape before.”

It took Merriman a moment to realize he was being spoken to. When he did he looked up at the officer with a harried look. “What?”

“It’s just,” the Officer looked down at his feet, like a child, “you almost died sir.”

Merriman paused for just a moment, pursing his lips. Quietly he lifted his glasses up onto his head, inhaled sharply through his nose and gave an airy exhale. He looked out the window, into the bright blue sky, at the lazy white clouds. A bird flitted through the air and disappeared from sight.

“How long until They arrive, John?”

The Officer knew immediately who ‘They’ referred to. “38 hours or so, sir.”

Merriman took one more second to relish the blueness of the sky. Suddenly, unbidden, he thought of his daughter, long estranged, and found himself regretting their distance for the first time in ages. Merriman packed the unexpected feeling away, to be considered if and only if the human race was still around in two days time.

“Well then,” the professor said, giving the Officer a fleeting smile, “there’s no time to waste.”

Without a word of explanation, Merriman rested his glasses back on the bridge of his nose and got back to work.

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READ MORE FLASH FICTION

ACTION	APOCALYPTIC	DARK	ESTABLISHED UNIVERSE	FANTASY
FUNNY MAYBE	HORROR	MISC	PULLIN’ THE HEARTSTRINGS	SAD MAYBE
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