Itineris

[Vogel]

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He was there.

He was there when it appeared, that massive, glowing edifice of a ship, hovering before him, before them, before them all.

Its beauty struck him. Or was it the power it radiated? Was it the mystique of its origin? Or of its structure? Pulsating, ribbed, almost as if it were made out of sheer plasma; no human hands had any part in its creation.

Human hands, hands with guns, hands on controls behind fighter ships, behind battleships, behind weapons.

Human.

All of them, with the exclusion of this thing, this portrait of color, this magnificent being, this monstrosity.

He was there.

He was here.

And it was here, too.

He stared at it, like all the rest, amazed, frightened, struck dumb. Their hands on their weapons didnt move. But their eyes did. They did even as the object soared out from the core of the being, shot straight and true at the ball of light so many, many miles away. They did even as the being disintegrated into nothingness.

They did even as the light began to flicker.

He was here.

His hands were on the controls, still, throttle and yoke, his feet on the rudders. But his mind was elsewhere. It was being drawn on by something. He felt out of himself, out of his mind, even. Where everyone was grounded, he was already gone somehow.

Already gone when the light flashed.

And grew.

And grew.

And obliterated the Birthplace of Man.