Fragment

7:27 A.M.

The Navy ship’s bullhorn rang out in the background.

“ABANDON SHIP NOW! COMPLY NOW!”

“And so the United States Navy continues its countdown to its sentence of execution,” Cynthea narrated.

There was an unbearable silence. The Trident crew looked at their watches and winced as the seconds ticked down. The Navy had stopped firing warning shots, but no one was sure if this was a good or bad thing.

Andy whispered in what he hoped was Hender’s ear. “Go on, Hender.”

Hender suddenly appeared in brilliant, rippling colors. “Hello, people!” he said in a fluting voice. “Thank you for saving us!”

All the hendropods blushed into vivid color beside him then and waved at the camera in Peach’s hand as they fluted together, “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”

11:27 A.M. Eastern Daylight Time

“Well…what the…?” The President’s mouth hung open.

The astonished Commander-in-Chief glanced at his defense secretary and then back to the frightened people who stood defiantly on the bow of the Trident.

Half a billion people were watching the hendropods as the omnivorous eyes of humanity opened across the face of the Earth.

Some laughed at what they saw and thought it was a joke. Others scoffed and thought it was a fraud. Some recoiled and thought it was a horror, and others wept in awe and called it a miracle. Still others trembled with rage and believed it was the Apocalypse.

People watched in real time as their world was instantly turned upside-down. All who watched knew the human race had arrived at a moment of judgment that would mark its destiny and its character, and its world, forever, and the war over the meaning of that moment had already begun in living rooms, cafes, bars, and dormitories across five continents.

“Sweet Jesus H. fucking Christ,” the President said.

Behind the backs of the Trident’s crew, the camera showed the Navy bearing down as the second ship circled across their starboard bow, and a third ship appeared on the horizon.

Nell grabbed the mike from Cynthea. “Mr. President, if you are watching, you must spare these special beings!”

Admiring Nell’s chutzpah, Cynthea reclaimed the mike from her, whispering “Finally, a little drama, Nell. Good work, girl.” Then she shouted into the microphone, “So now we wait with the rest of the world to see what their fate and ours will be!”

Marcello watched the second hand of his watch as it crossed the 30-second mark, and he placed his hand on Hender’s arm as he closed his eyes.

Hender patted Marcello’s hand and Andy’s shoulder reassuringly as his eyes moved in separate directions.

Nell squeezed Geoffrey’s hand hard.

The destroyer’s bullhorns crackled, and a voice boomed over the decks: “THE PRESIDENT HAS ORDERED US TO STAND DOWN. WE ASK PERMISSION TO COME ABOARD.”

“Drama!” Cynthea exalted.

Then they all cheered, hugging each other across species as the U.S. Navy stood down.

Thatcher recognized the blue lid of a glass jar wedged between the bottom and the pontoon of the Zodiac. Another nut jar. Thank God, he was starving.

He tugged it, planted his feet on the pontoon. He pulled it out and twisted it open as he brought it close to peer inside.

Henders wasps and drill-worms spilled out of the jar onto his face and eyes. It was seconds before he realized it was one of Hender’s bug-jars that they had waved hours earlier to get the Trident’s attention.

Thatcher screamed and knocked the satphone overboard as the drill-worms punctured his eyelids and one of the raft’s air chambers simultaneously.

He writhed, tangled in lines and scuba gear, shrieking as the Zodiac partially deflated and one side folded around him. His panic slowly turned to shocked disbelief. Thatcher saw a burst of light as the worms corkscrewed into his optic nerves, and then there was darkness, and a while later there was no more.