Kyrie still couldn’t believe it was finally over. No more practice papers, flashcards or strict timetables. It was all finally over.
Two weeks of blissful summer break had already passed after the stress and grind of his A-levels. Another week from now and he would be sunbathing in Majorca, a month after that and he’d finally get his results, then university offers (Harvard or Stanford he hoped) and after two months of rest he’d be packed off to university and the horrid cycle would begin again.
He tried not to think about it. Take the present, day by day. Sit around, watch TV, play video games. His mother always said he was smart enough to do anything in this world, but his laziness held him back.
However, it all filled him with a sense of hopelessness. What was the point to this life, it seemed to him just an endless cycle. Work, then rest, Work, then rest. Maybe have some kids somewhere in the middle. Then die. All so pointless.
Kyrie sighed, maybe all this sitting around and relaxing was boring him and all he could do to amuse himself was wallow in his own self-pity. By modern standards he had a good lot in life. He was six foot, handsome with chocolate brown skin, light grey eyes and a happy, well off family. He should be more grateful.
Time stopped.
The TV still played mutely in the background, but he felt distanced from reality, jerked out of it against his will. The world seemed to shudder a second time then. . .everything was back to normal.
Kyrie could hear the TV normally now, but everything seemed a bit blurry as if there was some moisture in front of his eyes. He blinked to clear them. Then blinked again, rubbing his eyes furiously.
Huh, what’s going on.
He couldn’t see properly. He blinked again and tried to focus on what was in front of him. A blue screen. . .
Earth has reached the initiation stage. It will soon begin merging. 100,000 teleportation bases have been arranged. Type a number between 1 and 100,000 to be instantly transported to a teleportation base. After 24 hours all sapient life on this planet will be destroyed. Good luck.
Kyrie stared, stunned for a good 10 seconds. He moved a hand in front of the blue screen and his fingers moved through it. Was he dreaming, was this real?
He switched the channel hurriedly, fingers fumbling.
BBC, they must know something.
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The news presenter looked uncharacteristically stressed, endlessly re-ordering his papers, and messing with his hair. “Breaking news, breaking news. Alien first contact has been established. Everyone on earth has seen these blue screens. This is a universal experience. This is not a drill. We fully believe that the earth will be destroyed,” He held a finger up to his ear, “we have just received news of a UN meeting. Patching you through.”
The screen flashed as it switched to an imposing hall of green marble full of flustered looking diplomats, “The US selects the number 1, all US citizens enter the number 1 into your status screens.”
“China selects the number 2. All Chinese citizens select the number 2 on your status screens.”
“Germany 3. . .”
“Britain selects the number 4. All British citizens select the number 4 on your status screens.”
Then the TV flashed again to rolling script.
“All British citizens select the number 4 from your status screens.”
No matter which channel he scrolled through it was all that was showing. He picked up his phone.
Four hundred missed texts. No surprise.
The boy’s group chat was going wild. No one knew what was going on. They all seemed to think this was the last time they’d ever talk to one another.
Maybe it is.
Kyrie realised he should probably be strategizing with his parents. He ran to the doorway, “Mum, Dad, everyone. Get down here.” he shouted at the top of his lungs.
They all assembled in the living room in a flash, it seemed they’d gone through a similar experience to himself.
How did the government catch on so quick. They were already reporting like two seconds after it happened.
Kyrie’s mum, being her usual hyper-organised self, was already on the phone with family members and his dad caught on fast. Kyrie’s brothers, Damian, the older and Jalen, the younger were looking dazed.
Mum finished her call promptly and motioned for her everyone to sit down and to be quiet, “Alright guys we’re going to the 98,688th teleportation gate. Get your phones out and text all the family members you have in your contacts”.
“What’s going on? How did these blue boxes get here,” Damian pinched himself as if he was dreaming.
Mum stood up straighter, at four foot nine, she still cut an imposing figure. She was a tough woman, not born into prosperity, who had worked for all she had. Yet all her strictness masked a kind heart. “Damian, Kyrie, Jalen. All you boys listen to me now and listen closely! This is not a game and not a dream, this is reality. Now I don’t know where these teleportation boxes will take us or what these blue screens are but I’m one hundred percent certain society as we know it will be gone by the end of tonight. We must be strong together! I can’t have you messing up now and being separated from us never to be seen again. Now repeat after me gate nine, eight, six, eight, eight.”
“Nine, eight, six, eight, eight” They all repeated, Kyrie made sure to memorize it.
Jalen piped up, “But surely, we should go to gate 4. Like the government said.”
Mum sighed, and went over and hugged Jalen, he was only ten, “If there is one thing, I’ve learnt in all my fifty years of life it’s not to trust the government. And anyway, millions will be going to any government affiliated gate. They won’t have enough resources to go around, and we don’t know what’s on the other side of the gate. It will probably descend into anarchy.”
His mum straightened to address everyone, “Me and your dad picked this gate because we assumed only our family would go there. We’ll be safe there and surrounded by people who love us. Not by millions of random people who we don’t even know. You understand. Now this countdown finishes in 24 hours so we will type in the number exactly 1 hour before the time finishes. The rest of the time we’re going to be coordinating to make sure all our family makes it to the same base, and we expect you boys to help.”
Thus began the most tense 23 hours of Kyrie’s life.