Adam Sea Klein [Klein - Infinity Machine

Adam Sea Klein

Lights flash among moments of darkness whirring sound grinds through the air, surging deep, long pulsations. The trees swirl above, winding branches whip, as steady winds push hard against everything above the soil and road. The engine of my truck races. My heart pounds hard; it's all I can feel.

The stream of adrenaline bellows through my body. I shouldn't be here now.

I should leave while I can.

The voice of my mind is different... small, loud, terrified. As the sun set, as the dark clouds of spring rain cover the sky, across the horizon, there is a lighted form. It extends from left to right, so far away... so large; its an object long and wide, 80 miles from side to side.

I hear the screaming horns, the traffic has turned toward me; they run in panic, like gazelles that flee from crocodiles. I can feel their sense of fear, like blood.

Why I turn towards that thing that monumental shape floating in the sky, that thing unknown, that ominous object, is beyond my ability to understand.

I feel terror, intrigue, and something more. I feel pulled.

To see that massive shape and push towards it while others run away, which rips a hole in my understanding. When that gargantuan object revealed first glimpse, something inside me changed. I felt a new reality begin.

Everything I was as person has been ripped away. My past disappeared, my future... our future, erased.

As I stare at a super massive... alien object, my eyes cannot deter. I already want to forget, but I want to know... what are they... are they good or wicked. There is no time to sort this out, not within me, not now.

I am being pulled.

I must know.

I must be there.

I don't know why.

Lightning arcs across the sky.

The giant thing is moving.

I have to focus.

45 minutes pass, foot pressed on the accelerator, driving dangerously. I twist the radio dial, it all sounds bad, frantic voices, alarms, crowds murmuring as they ran. Reporters on edge, shrieks, women crying, men hollering as though death looms. They're all afraid, frantic, without information. No contact yet.

When I can take my eyes off the massive ship, I see strange things.

The cows are running away, the birds leave in troves, thousands of them.

There's sleet, rain, wind, not the normal kind, it's plowing my truck in rows, then pausing, then hitting in sheets.

The sky looks ominous, brutal, as the sun pushes into the dark, the ship takes on a pale-yellow glow.

I feel an urge... it's not normal. I'm fixated.

I feel my attention fully change, some shift, a proactive stance I cannot shake. I think strange things, like peace and surrender.

My adrenaline suddenly dives off. The change is confusing. I feel like something is controlling me.

I want to hold on... but I can't.

I don't know what happened. I whited out. I have no memory of the last 30 minutes. I am still driving. Im driving in a mental white-out. This scares me more than I can grasp.

My mind feels divided.

Why am I doing this?

My body won't let me turn around; it's fixed it won't let up. I'm driving too fast now, it's reckless.

There's no one around.

I swerve to avoid objects, tree limbs, roadside floods.

I'm getting so close, but the ship is still far... yet in front of me,

the ship takes up most of the sky.

The size is remarkable.

I white out again, 15 minutes has passed. I'm losing control of myself. Its a bad feeling, reckless, sabotaging.

The ship is emitting a closely bound yellow light a light clings across its entire surface. It radiates a sound, an incredibly deep constant whir, different from an engine, like an energy, a felt noise, lush, powerful, steady.

I turn the radio dial again,

the broadcasting has stopped.

A part of my mind is rushing away. What am I doing? I sayaloud with great distress. I look in the rearview mirror, What am I doing?

The road is long and straight, pedal to the floor... 90 mph...

100 mph.

115 mph.

I try to let up, but as I do, something overtakes the urge to slow down. It's like I'm falling towards the ship.

Nothing can stop what I'm doing, and it feels insane. My breathing has changed. It's hard to inhale; not heavy, but thick and slow. I'm being forced not to hyperventilate. I'm about to white out, everything in me is screaming stay awake.

I remain in limbo, almost here, nearly gone, back and forth, over and over again, in and out, thick breaths, I almost fade...

I'm only aware of time every few minutes. I'm breaking up. At unwise speed I push the last stretch of distance.

I'm almost under the ship.

To be under that gargantuan thing is not easy, it is an object of great fear. It's the largest thing I've ever seen. There is no way to describe how this feels, setting below this alien craft it must be the size of New York City.

The deep whirring sound moves right through me, the energy is insane. The ship seems almost monolithic from beneath, subtle features only.

I roll the windows down, the air is a perfect calm, but the sound is so present it drowns out everything.

Why am I here? I yell.

Why am I here? I'm desperate.

Why am I doing this?

...WHY?

I've whited out. I open my eyes, and I am looking down... from the sky, beneath the ship I'm floating in the air, moving upward. Down below, my truck is stopped, headlights on, door wide open.

I am suspended arms outstretched, no control.

I am being taken.

The terror is gone, no sense left,

emotions are paused, my mind is stuck in a glitch of calm.