THE JOINING: The Cycle of the Shards Book One

The first inkling that Critock had that something was wrong in Kyle’s house was the oppressive silence that seemed to fill the air from the moment he walked in. With the insanity of the last few hours, he hadn’t given any thought to Kyle’s family life, and was operating under the uneducated assumption that he would be alone tonight, which was the ideal situation. He knew that plan was dashed when he finished the rather long trek from Shanna’s hill to the house, and found an unfamiliar truck sitting in the driveway. A quick search of the unresponsive teenager’s brain discovered the truck belonging to Kyle’s father. Not expecting to have to act like the boy again until the next day, he steeled himself, searching for something, anything in Kyle’s mind that would help him. He glanced around for Tom, but true to his word, the wisp had made himself scarce to allow Critock to make his own mistakes. He figured he had retreated to Kyle’s room, to wait for him there so that they could speak in a more private atmosphere.

He slowly opened the door to the aforementioned quiet, and waited. He knew it must be past whatever curfew that had been established for the boy, but he wasn’t going to be the first one to make a sound. He quietly moved Kyle’s body past the door, closing it gently. The silence hung still, and he allowed himself a moment to hope that Kyle’s father would have already went to bed, or went out, or whatever humans do. This hope was eliminated when he saw the older man sitting with a bowl in front of him of some kind of noodle concoction. Their eyes met, and Critock saw a look of concern and slight sadness instead of the anger that he had expected .

Critock broke the look first, which seemed to prompt Kyle’s father to speak. “Out with your friends?”

Still not prepared, he stood still as though struck dumb, and nodded.

“Wish you would have left a note. Seems like there’s a lot of crazy people out there tonight.” Kyle’s father absent-mindedly stuck a fork into his bowl, and took a small amount of food to his mouth awkwardly.

“Um…Sorry.” Critock said, and finally saw the bowl sitting in front of a chair across from the man. Realizing suddenly what was expected of him, he moved to the chair, sitting down and immediately assessed the food. It resembled a few dishes from a lot of different planets that he had been to. “Noodles, the universal constant.” He muttered, wishing that Tom had heard him.

“What?” Kyle’s father raised his head from his bowl quickly, as though he was waiting for Kyle to say something.

“Oh! Um, nothing.” There was nothing Critock hated more than being in a situation that had him off guard. There was no chance of anything to remove himself from this situation that wouldn’t send Kyle into an insane asylum or at the very least prevent him from attending school the next day and continuing with the plan. He gingerly stuck his fork through a noodle, testing both the consistency of the pasta and the abilities of the strange utensil. The silence returned, and it was so maddening it forced Critock to fill it. “Just thinking to myself.”

“Well, you know best when it comes to yourself, I guess.” Kyle’s father was quiet for a moment, before nodding towards the television, which Critock now realized was on and showing a news report. With a start, he realized the report was showing pictures of Phelps’ smoldering house.

“That’s where your teacher lives, isn’t it?” Critock could only nod as he watched the screen. The volume was on but low, and the scene changed to an interview with William Phelps himself. Critock could just barely make out what was being said, Kyle’s father could tell that he was straining, and brought up a remote control from the table, tapping the volume button. A few seconds later, Critock could actually follow the conversation.

“…No idea what happened. I came home from practice just about an hour ago, and, well….” Phelps’ voice sounded tired. “Fire Department says it’s a gas leak, but it have you ever seen a gas leak look like this?”

The image of the teacher was replaced with closer pictures of the house, or rather what remained of it. Half of it had seemingly collapsed, and the other still standing but burned to a black crisp. The newscaster asked if he would be okay, and the video changed back to Phelps.

“I think so. I mean, it’s covered by insurance, right? It’s just stuff. I’ll be back in school tomorrow and…”

“Can you believe it?” Kyle’s father cut in over the audio from the television, and Critock turned to face him again. “Still going to work tomorrow. Good man.”

“He probably doesn’t want to be anywhere else.” Critock let out, causing Kyle’s father to assess him strangely.

“Why do you say that?”

“I, uh…” Critock didn’t know how to easily say anything at this point, lest he cause Kyle’s father to believe him to be someone else. Unfortunately, even he realized he never knew when to stop. “He spends so much time at school anyway, just getting home this late isn’t out of the ordinary for him, and he doesn’t look too broken up about it,.”

“Hm. Maybe.” Critock and the man who thought he was his father looked back at the TV as the scene changed again.

“Gas leak? Or hoax gone wrong? News at 10 has received exclusive video of what appears to be a small ship flying over downtown…” Critock certainly recognized the next video, albeit a very far away video shot with a bad phone camera and sideways from street level. But it was of the pirate’s vessel. The poor quality hid Critock, who had been clinging desperately for life at the time. The video only tracked the vessel for a few moments as it dodged through buildings, and disappeared down an alleyway. The newscaster continued. “…Eyewitnesses say the ship had flown into the city from the direction of the same school where William Phelps teaches, itself only a few blocks from his house. Eventually, the ship was identified as an unmanned drone, and safely disposed of. But some are saying that the drone was the one that destroyed William’s house.”

Critock made a scoffing noise. “Phh…Drone.”

“Eh?” Kyle’s father’s eyes moved back from the television to his son. “You’ve seen drones before. They’re all over the place nowadays. Dangerous.” He shook his head.

“Drones that size?” Critock was trapped in conversation now with someone that dare not find out the truth. It was an awkward minefield, and not one that he would typically tread lightly in. He peered around Kyle’s memory, not for anything personal this time, but just for surface information and memories he could use. Not being as important to the boy’s privacy, it was much easier to access. “Sure, you…we’ve got the small ones, but even the Government million dollar ones aren’t spaceship sized.”

Kyle’s father sat back, not expecting a conversation tonight from his son but not willing to turn one down. “What do you think they are?”

Critock stopped, about to spill everything. “I…I don’t know. Could be anything. What do you think?” Turning it around would at least buy him some time.

“Terrorists. Government isn’t going to tell us anything.”

“Terrorists? Here?” Critock was surprised at how matter of fact the older man was being.

“Of course. We’re not a small city anymore, Kyle. We’ve got attention, we’ve got an Air Force Base right outside the city, you can’t have missed the little air show we got tonight, probably to blow up whatever the hell that thing was.”

“So terrorists from…?”

Kyle’s dad stopped, surprised he even had to answer that question. “Middle East, probably. Maybe North Korea. They’ve probably got the nuke, just looking for a good place to stick it.”

Critock nodded, looking for more information and finding it slightly easier to obtain. “So, ok. Terrorists from countries without any type of air force are going to bring a ship here, blow up a science teacher’s house, buzz the city a couple times, do nothing of note with it, and then scuttle it out of town? Not to mention, we’re not exactly in the top ten cities list, with or without a base.”

“We’re the perfect target! We’re the last place anyone would suspect! If they show they can hit here, then nowhere is safe!” Kyle’s father was getting slightly red in the face, and Critock realized that there was a whole lot that Kyle wanted to say back to him. It was almost as if Kyle wanted him to say it as the information was so easy to access. What the hell, Critock thought. Let’s do one more favor for the kid.

“So what you’re saying is that you’re scared.”

“Of course I’m scared! You should be too!”

“Why?” Critock forced himself not to raise his voice, not escalating the situation with what was supposed to be a role model. “I mean, we’re supposed to be the home of the brave, right? Granted we swooped in and killed all the braves, but it’s a nice tagline, isn’t it? So we’re supposed to be the biggest and toughest. I mean, obviously we have all these guns, we certainly aren’t hiding behind them because we’re scared of a real fight. So we have all the military, all the weapons, but after all this time we’re still supposed to be hiding under our beds every time someone who believes in a very slightly different God sneezes in our direction?”

“I…”

“No, thank you! If we’re supposed to be the best country in the history of countries, which by the way good luck on that based on any metric you’d like to try, then maybe we should start acting like adults and not wet ourselves every time something out of the ordinary happens! For frak’s sake, no wonder nobody has contacted this rock!” Critock stopped there, realizing that yet again he had gone a step too far. Not being sure of Kyle’s father’s response, as he was not expecting a geopolitical discussion about this planet tonight, he braced himself for anything from screaming to crying.

“So what do you think it was?” The response was still unexpected. Much more levelheaded than he had been thinking. Critock knew only one way to defuse this. He let out a tooth-filled smile, as though the whole nigh-argument had been a joke.

“Alieeens.” He drew out the word, causing Kyle’s dad to let out a great belly laugh.

“It sounded like you were going that way! So aliens, like you said, just come down here, blow up a teacher’s place, buzz the city for kicks, and leave!”

Critock, acting as hard as he could, shrugged. “Anything’s possible.”

“If you want to talk a lot of liberal stuff, which I didn’t put in your head by the way, then you might want to come up with a better alternative than Martians coming down and cruising.”

“Liberal? I don’t know if adding a label to logic and having that be your whole argument is a good way to debate.” Critock shook his head, amazed at the continuing proof about how backward this planet was. He wished Tomkari would come down so he could bear witness. It might put him off doing any more missions.

Kyle’s father just smiled, and shook his head. “Who are you?”

Critock was shocked out of his train of thought. “Wha….What do you mean?”

“I mean, yesterday you slam out of here like you’re going to hate me forever, tonight we’re talking like we’re on CNN or something! Where’s all this coming from?” The look of concern returned to Kyle’s father’s face, and Critock turned his head back down to his rapidly cooling food. He wasn’t aware of the previous night’s difficulties, but again found the memory easy to access.

“I…I’m sorry about that.” Changing the subject and trying to help Kyle at the same time, Critock tried to put himself in the boy’s position. Failing that, he’d adlib and hope for the best. Worked so far, he thought. “Sometimes, I get angry. Yesterday was just a really bad day and I took it out on you.”

Kyle’s father nodded. “It’s ok, it happens. You’ve got a lot going on, for you and against you, but you’ve got to take control of it, you can’t let it control you.” Critock couldn’t say anything back to that. It struck him as one of the more profound things he had heard, albeit a bit simple. He continued.“Do you get angry a lot?”

“Not really. In fact, I think I’m feeling better today.”

“Just making sure, we can get help.”

Surprised at the change of mood and seemingly alignment from Kyle’s father, Critock risked a joke. “For the terrorists, too?”

“Them and their virgins can go to hell or whatever, but you’re my son, I love you.”

Critock was caught off guard by a sudden blast of emotion. Whether he was hiding or sleeping, Kyle had awoken, and for an instant he almost lost control. Mentally trying to calm the boy, he was unable to respond to Kyle’s father in a quick enough amount of time, who cleared his throat.

“Well, anyway, you know if you ever need anything, I’m here. You know that, right?”

Critock still didn’t let Kyle through, but he knew exactly what the boy would say, and helped it along. “That’s just it though. You’re not here.”

The silence returned to the room. They both put their heads down and began poking at their bowls, Critock taking an opportunity to push a triumphant-feeling Kyle back down, and finding it quite easy. The elephant in the room that had been there for some time had just been exposed, and now there was no putting it back in shadow. Critock knew that Kyle wanted him to take control so that he could avoid the awkward aftermath. Well, this was one battle that the boy could fight himself. He had avoided family entanglements by tragedy and other unfortunate incidents, and he wasn’t looking to get started in this one, especially when one way or the other he wasn’t going to be part of this family in less than a day. “Can I be excused?” Critock asked silently, hoping that asking quietly would express some kind of apology.

Instead of words, Kyle’s father nodded slightly, and Critock rose from the table. He took his mostly-full bowl to the sink, cleaning it quickly, and then began to cross to the stairway, to permanently leave this conversation.

“I’m trying, Kyle.”

Critock stopped, obviously not fast enough. The voice was not of a strong father, but of a slightly broken man. Sighing, he turned around, and looked at the man, who slumped in his chair. Critock knew he had to work a little more to salvage this. “I didn’t mean…”

“It’s hard for me too, you know. Always on the road, trying to be your dad but I know, I know I’m screwing up!” He slammed a hand on the table, then stood up, his face red. Almost on autopilot he moved to the kitchen, his bowl in hand. “When your mother left…Oh, I knew it was going to be hard, but I thought it could be handled. And now, you’re smart and you’re doing well, that part of it I didn’t have much part in.” He looked out the window from the sink, not looking at anything in particular. “Please don’t hate me, Kyle. I know I work a lot, I know there’s not a lot of money to go around, and the bills, and…”

Critock knew that Kyle would, or at least should, go and hug him. Reassure him somehow. But he could not force himself to interfere in that ritual, nor could he risk letting Kyle have full control again for him to do it. But there was something he could say.

“Take control of it. Don’t let it take control of you.” With that, Critock turned and climbed the stairs as quickly as he could without making it sound like he was abandoning his father.

Kyle’s father sighed, listening to the thump thump of his son’s feet pounding up the stairs, no doubt anxious to escape this entire awkward conversation. And who could blame him? While this was the most they had talked in…well, he couldn’t remember the last time they had a conversation this long, it hadn’t turned out for the best, although it was enlightening. He crossed from the window, pulling out a non-descript bottle with brown liquid sloshing around inside of it, to the living room, crossing by a bookcase that held old pictures. There were only a few pictures of Kyle’s mother, and if that bothered him he never mentioned anything of it. There were pictures of Kyle, from age 5, to 8, a few more all the way up to his current school picture. He noted that in none of the pictures did the boy appear to be smiling, and his father sighed, moving away from the suddenly depressing pictures. Was this change just a normal teenage thing? Was there something more serious going on? And what about tonight, this sudden personality appearing that was so unlike his usual interactions.?

He sank into the living room chair, and took a drink out of the bottle. The world just doesn’t make sense anymore. He thought, and stared into the television, which had long since moved past the strange events of the evening.

The building wasn’t the tallest in the city, but it was still very high up and very secure, and as such it took the police investigators, along with two men in suits from a non-descript Federal agency and several uniformed police officers, an hour to gain access to the floor. When the doors opened, they were met with a blast of cold air coming through the broken window where the figure that had fallen from the ship, or ‘drone’ as they were commanded to refer to it in public, had come through. There was a nice trail of debris and destruction stretching from the window, through no less than five cubicles, before the source of the wreckage could be seen. The large figure, in a large dark blue metal suit that made it look more like a middle ages warrior than anything else, lay still, it’s face covered in shadow. The lead investigator on the force made a motion with his hands, and the officers scattered around the room, taking up different positions throughout.

The investigator nodded to his partner, and both advanced on the figure, guns drawn, as the two suited men stayed behind. One reached into his pocket for a moment, and revealed a flashlight, and flicked it on. The light beam moved over the scarred battle armor of the figure, before finally settling on the face, causing the investigators as well as the other officers in the room to catch their breath.

The face could almost be mistaken as a Halloween mask, but there were no seams or zippers. It was of a sickly greenish color, but with a large and extended mouth and teeth so large they could be considered tusks. They were so disgusted with the face that no one but the suited men noticed the eyes. Blood red. And open.

As the suited men exited the room quickly the same way they came in, the investigators slowly began to back up as the monstrous figure began to lift itself off the floor much more quickly than should be possible. It seemed that way to the figure itself as well, as it had a surprised look upon its face once it reached its full standing level, a full three feet above the tallest men in the room.

The investigators and the officers, almost in unison, raised their weapons, and prepared to fire.

It did not help.