Armageddon

This is a novel planked in a universe that occupied our orbital space before it painted its own doom. The murder of the king/president of that world triggers a chain of events that unfold, to arc the doom hammer. The saga of a disgusted detective for whom the wheels turn to make him a man destined to garb the clothes of a .......... Read more to know more.

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2. A summon placates the aggrieved

 

Zeus sat by the pool and spat upon his own reflection, in a world so perfect; he had just become a scar in the face of a pretty gargantuan. The waves rippled, cutting swathes across his face, he touched the water, and watched as his own reflection shimmered. That small motion had been his life. A life of a detective was always culminations of flashes of ingenuity; a small break could stairway up to the truth.

Having passed the initial tests with distinction, Zeus had held the grail of success until the frame shifted. As for all the detectives, the government issued the first case, for him it was theft. He had cracked the case in less then two days and had become a celebrity overnight. He had decided to set up an agency of his own, and as crime harbored the better half of the people’s thought, cases had spiraled up for him. In his third case when he had unraveled a particularly baffling case, and when the case was presented before the attorney, in the glade of verdicts, he had had concrete evidence as to his solution that the person who had actually come up with the complaint was the crook. Alas, the court had laughed upon his face and he was adjourned from the field for two years for opposing the court and for trying to fortify wrong evidence.

Branded a fluke in a competitive world, he had spent two years in mental turmoil. He had fallen for what they called Delusion Syndrome. A state of mental disorder when every turn seemed a deception of perception. He had fallen into the turgid routine of going to his backyard and chalking down the number of days, but soon lost count as the disease crested.

When his exile from delving in matters of illegal turbulence ended, he was disregarded, simple and to the core. His mind panned back to the sphere of reality. The tranquil serenity of the brook pacified his swollen emotions, but he knew that the strongest of waves were preceded by a receding coast line. He had banked reality for a long time and the time had ripened, so he opened the crater in his mind and imagined doing mundane jobs, which were many because deduction was the only career, which did not have a branding iron following his wake. It was so for him, so he decided to drown in the placid waters. That’s when he was blinded and, screen that filtered vision, faced a momentary crisis. It was two minutes later that he realized that a royal message had been injected into his mind.

Only the royals were bequeathed with the privilege to intrude into anyone’s consciousness, and their palaces were furnished with a room of glasses that were symmetrically arranged in such a way that they could create a new dimension, and they could sneak up into others consciousness and relay the message.

In the interim, he picked up a spiked stone and bloodied his forearms, using the blood thus unleashed as the ink he readied himself to jot down the message. Finally etchings of white polluted the darkness, and scintillating rays reflected from the royal chamber sliced into his vision, and from it he unearthed the true meaning of the letter.

Embossed in his periphery, in cultivated tongue were the words “Audience with the queen at Quarter sunset”.

His wailings had been looked upon, and a royal mission awaited him.

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