The Holo Earth

Chapter 7

Liam stumbled out of the office, the world around him a blur of colors and noise. He blinked hard, trying to focus on the simple act of putting one foot in front of the other.

His mind wandered to Ray's hushed conversation. The worry lines etched deeper into his boss's face, the rapid-fire Arabic punctuated by urgent English phrases – it all painted a picture of a world much larger and more complex than Liam's own struggles. He felt a pang of shame for his earlier bitterness about office politics and Arabic camaraderie. There were people facing real dangers, their lives upended by forces beyond their control.

As he walked past the protective fence around the lot next door, his gaze was drawn past the posters advertising an organization with a red and black seal, to the skeleton of steel and concrete. The half-finished building loomed over him, its skeletal frame a stark silhouette against the darkening sky. For a moment, he thought he saw a figure on the topmost beam – was that Calvin? He shook his head, Calvin hadn't even come out yet.

He wandered over to the self-drive he'd ordered to the curb a little ways off. His thoughts moved back to the pendant he was turning over in his sweaty hand. On one hand, Zolok's promises of friendship and a way out of mounting debts, promises that had already begun coming true. But at what cost? His grandmother's words echoed in his mind: "Nothing worth having comes easy." Did Zolok really want to help and get nothing in exchange? Humans lived by the rule of no free lunches, and he presumed this applied to otherworldly beings as well.

But then, unbidden, Sarah's face swam into his mind. The hurt in her eyes when he'd walked out on her, overwhelmed by their shared vulnerability. A pang of guilt twisted in his gut. With Ray distracted by the situation in Algeria, he realized he had an unexpected opportunity. No working the gray areas of overtime law tonight. No impossible bug quota looming over him. Maybe, just maybe, he could reach out to Sarah, try to explain, to make things right. It was guilt layered upon guilt as he realized his unexpected free evening came at the cost of others' turmoil.

A burst of laughter erupted from a nearby restaurant patio, the shrill wail of a siren block away. The sounds seemed to fight for dominance.

As Liam approached his self-drive, a sudden gust of wind swept through the street, carrying with it the shrill voice of the street preacher. The words seemed to whisper directly into Liam's ears, making him shudder involuntarily.

"They're not just watching, they're poisoning our streets!" the preacher chanted as he rang his bell, his voice carrying over the evening traffic.

The setting sun glinted off the windows of nearby skyscrapers, bathing the scene in a golden glow. The light seemed to pool around the wizened figure, highlighting his incongruously neat beard and worn-out shell of clothing.

Liam noticed a group of people hurriedly crossing the street, clearly intent on avoiding the preacher's fervent rantings. A pair of businessmen in crisp suits quickened their pace as they passed, their eyes firmly fixed on the ground, pointedly ignoring the spectacle.

Trying to follow their example, Liam nodded towards the preacher and attempted to walk around him. You didn't want to make eye contact with these kinds of people. It would be an invitation.

But the street preacher had other ideas. He crab-walked back into Liam's path, his bloodshot eyes suddenly locking onto him. The preacher's gaze narrowed as they caught the glint of the pendant. "You!" he shrieked, pointing a dirt-encrusted finger. "They've approached you, haven't they? From beyond the veil!"

Liam's heart raced, but more from alarm than recognition. "Look, I don't want any trouble," he muttered, raising his hands placatingly.

The frantic man lurched forward, invading Liam's personal space and grabbed his upper arm with a lean claw. His breath was sour, and he spoke in a rapid whisper. "They come at night, don't they? He chanted, his voice laced with urgency. "Offering dreams come true, solutions to problems? I can see it in your eyes, boy! Years ago, one of them came to me too. But there are others, a hidden light."

A chill ran down Liam's spine. "You're crazy," Liam said, but his voice lacked conviction. The old man had seen the pendant. How could this weirdo put together its relationship to the glowing form in the middle of the night? The offer of help?"

He threw his hands up, palms warding off unseen threats. "Crazy? Crazy?! Crazy!!" His eyes darted around the crowd, searching for validation. A leather-bound journal, worn and cracked with age, peeked from beneath his threadbare cloak.

The preacher cackled, he spun around times, addressing the disinterested passersby. "They called Galileo crazy too! They called Einstein a madman!" He turned back to Liam, eyes bulging. "But I see the truth. The truth, the creatures that live in the space beyond space! In time beyond time!"

Liam thought about denying the preacher's claims again, but a part of him wondered if the man knew something. He swallowed hard, torn between fleeing and a morbid curiosity. "What... what do you know about them?" he asked, immediately regretting the question.

The old man's face split into a manic grin and he pulled out his journal and pounded on it as if it were a religious text. "Oh, I know everything, boy. Everything and nothing. But there are others..." He glanced furtively around, then leaned in close. "Others who know the real truth."

The weathered man took him to the fence around to the construction site and where the car was waiting for him. The preacher pointed a bony finger at a tattered poster with a red and black circular seal at the top and a title below. "The Veritas Society."

"Their meeting starts in just a few minutes. Let me introduce you."

Liam recoiled, "I... I need to go home." He thought about Sarah, "I'm tired." He shot a nervous glance around, hoping someone might have noticed the encounter. He looked down at the claw grabbing him. "It's not a good idea to touch strangers, is it?"

"I'm sorry, sonny," the old man mumbled, his eyes darting around the street like a cornered rat. He released Liam's arm with a tremor in his hand, then brushed at his threadbare coat as if trying to smooth nonexistent wrinkles. "Sometimes I come on a little strong, wouldn't you say? People... It might be just a little off-putting."

He leaned in close, his wild eyes, one slightly larger than the other, boring into Liam. "But your life is in danger, sonny. Real danger! And the Veritas Society, well, they can help you. They know things... secrets they wouldn't dare..." his voice trailed off into a muttering jumble, punctuated by a series of rapid blinks.

Liam turned around and started walking backwards towards the car. "Well," he hesitated, "I guess it was good to meet you."

"Did its form ripple and glow over your bed like hot pavement?" The eccentric glanced over at the shop across the way. "First it's little bits of information. Did it offer you money? Fame? Power?"

Liam had to get away from this insanity. At least a few minutes of rest and quiet contemplation. He opened the car door.

Yet the preacher continued, "Friend of the family? Knows things that no one should know?"

Liam looked back. The man's eyes seemed to hold a mix of understanding and disappointment, as if he recognized the internal war raging within him. For a moment, his fingers loosened, nearly opening the door again. "I know. I've been where you are today. Talk to these people. It could mean your life."

Liam closed the door, all the while staring at the old man. The preacher's wizened carapace looked downcast. Had he just made a terrible mistake? Or narrowly avoided one?

A message from Sarah appeared on his phone, "Hey, could use your help with an art project. You free tonight?"

Liam stared at the message, then back at the receding figure. "Yes." He closed his eyes, torn between relief at his unexpected freedom and the fear that there are no free lunches.