Background

As more details are clarified, I will post them here. For now, here are the teasers posted in DreamLyrics.

Teaser 1

The reporter's face came on the vid, calm and serious, with just the right amount of sympathy. He is standing outside Cape Canaveral, with the new space shuttle in the background.

"Since the dawn of the Information Age, people have recalled significant disastrous events with questions such as:

"'Where were you when Kennedy was shot?'

"'...the Challenger exploded?'

"'...the Berlin Wall came down?'

"'...Tiananmen Square?'

"'...the World Trade Center collapse?'

"'...Cyclone Nida devastating Hong Kong?

"And, one year ago today, another event was added to the list.

"Where were you when the Da Vinci exploded?"

<computer generated images of the explosion>

"What you're seeing, as there were no cameras recording the event, is a recreation based on the recollections of the few eyewitness accounts available.

"The world mourned the loss of the fifty crew members, fifteen UN Marines and 35 UN scientists."

<the names and faces of the deceased pass by, faded over the background of the explosion, frozen in time>

UN Scientists

"The Da Vinci was to have set out on an eleven year journey to Alpha Centauri. New hyperdrive technologies, developed by W-Y Technologies, enabled such a journey to take place quicker than ever thought to be achieved in our lifetime. Five years, in sleep-stasis, to reach the far distant system, one year of study and exploration, and a five year return trip.

"The Da Vinci undocked from its home, the International Space Station, on its second routine pre-flight test. It had maneuvered away from the Station, where it had been constructed over the previous 5 years. It had just received the go-ahead for powering up the drive mechanism from the controllers on the station.

<audio track with text overlay, last communication between Da Vinci and controllers>

<reporter again>

"The investigation into the explosion of the Da Vinci is still ongoing, but the fault appears to have been in the drive mechanism itself. For now, the dream of space travel will remain limited to our solar system.

"This is Jim Merle in Florida, CNN News."

Teaser 2

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Madame Lena stretched in her chair, the room dark, stuffy, and confining. But it was what the customers expected.

She scratched her head under her turban. Damn, but it's hot in here. All those stupid candles she thought as her next customer came in, then put on her "game face," and nodded to her assistant.

"Welcome, welcome," Madame Lena said in a deep, booming voice. "Madame Lena sees all, Madame Lena knows all. Sit," she gestured grandly to the chair across the table from her.

"What is it you wish to know today? Shall I tell your future in the cards? From your hand? Or shall I use my crystal ball to divine your secrets?"

The man shifted nervously, but took a seat. He was silent for a moment, not looking at her.

Oh great, thought Lena, another man spurned by a lover, wanting to know if he'll find love again.

Then his eyes lifted, and he looked directly at the psychic. His face was haunted, eyes deep within the hollows of his face.

"I want you to tell me about my future. Whatever method you want. Tell me what you see me doing next week."

Madame Lena recovered quickly. She'd seen people in worse shape, but not often as customers. She usually had the occasional drunk frat boys or couples coming in on dares, but this customer was different.

It was as if he had seen a ghost, if she believed such things existed.

"As you wish," she nodded, and moved to place the crystal ball on the table. A moment of concentrating, chanting, and she moved her hands over the surface, grey streaks beginning to appear as she moved. These crystal balls were all the rage these days, with Responsive Glass(tm), and were damned expensive. But she'd budgeted for it, and it did draw more customers.

More chanting is required she thought. This one needs to believe.

She reached out and touched his hand, and felt a chill finger slide down her spine.

Her eyes opened and speared his, then darted around for her assistant. No, she was at the door, watching, wondering. It must have been my imagination and she moved back to the ball.

"I see ... I see ... you are at home. It is in the evening. A lady comes to your door. She wishes to speak with you. You refuse her, turn her away, and she leaves. You do not speak with her ever again."

Getting back into the flow, the rhythm of the patter, and recovered from her shock.

"What I see is a possible future. If you change what I have seen, if you take this knowledge..."

The chair scraped across the floor as the man stood up. Lena was flustered again, she wasn't done!

"Never mind. You don't know anything. You can't see anything."

"Madame Lena is always right!" she stood, offended, indignant.

"No, you're a fraud, just like all the others. But that's okay," the man smiled sadly. "I don't see you living beyond Sunday." He laughed, a sad, twisted thing. "But I don't see myself living beyond Sunday either."

The stranger turned and left, and Madame Lena stared at his back, then ran to her office, to the calendar on the wall.

Sunday, December 5, 2055.

A moment later, she laughed, relieved. The man was a joke, sent to her by a competitor, or worse yet, a friend. She'd find out who did this, or maybe she'd just ignore it. The world was NOT coming to an end on Sunday. Even SHE could see that.

She straightened her turban, and after a quick drink of water, went back to her table, and nodded to her assistant. Time to send in the next customer.

Teaser 3

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UPSTATE NEW YORK

Richard Thompson glanced surreptitiously at his fellow Faithful, all standing neat rows in the area in front of their barracks.

"At Ease!" came the shout from down the line, and as a unit, the Faithful went to parade rest.

"Word has come down, men. The tmie of the Cleansing is near to hand."

The Major paced in front of the ranks, delivering his words in his usual sharp staccato.

"Father Carter has received another vision. So I say, men, are we ready?"

"Sir, Yes Sir!" came the loud response, Thompson included.

"That's what I want to hear," the Major responded. "Now, with the Cleansing so soon upon us, there are some changes in the routines. No more recruiting, effective immediately. Rationing will also start immediately. Patrols are doubled. I want this perimeter secure. No one gets in, and no one gets out. That also means no more calls. The phone lines have been cut, and all radios will be turned into the quartermaster after you fall out.

"You knew this time was coming, men. The Pure and the Faithful will be Saved, as our Father Ezrah Carter has Foreseen."

Thompson mananged not to wince, but only barely. The ranting was reaching its pitch, and he tuned it out. He had other worries. How was he going to get word out now?

"Our world has become Corrupt. The Destined Hand of God will be safe from the Cleansing, because we have been Chosen. And after this Sodom and Gomorrah has been destroyed, we will put this world back in order, to promote His Glory."

The Major stopped short his usual rapturous speech (well, as rapturous as an old drill sargeant could become), and stared right at Thompson.

"Do you believe, soldier?"

"Sir, Yes Sir!" came the response from Thompson, echoed immediately by everyone else.

"Then fall out. The new duty roster will be posted after mess hall. Dismissed!"

Thompson turned and headed back to his bunk. He had to get word to his superiors. The FBI needed to know that The Destined Hand was gearing up. For what, he still didn't know, but they were obviously mobilizing. He hadn't been able to get to HQ in the months he'd been here...they wouldn't let any new recruits that close to the inner circle. This paramilitary group was even more paranoid than most.

No time, no time. He had to radio it in quick, before he turned over the short wave. It helped he was in training for second backup communications officer; they'd let him have the radio to practice with.

Thompson just hoped someone was listening on the other end. He wasn't supposed to report for another three days.

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