Protector of the Faith

Cal Emerson was in bed, lightly treading the border between wake and sleep, when the call came in.

The faceplate on the wall had started flashing a few minutes prior and a low electronic chord was gradually increasing in volume. It intruded into Cal’s half-dream, where the previously grey sky of his winter wonderland had been replaced with a square sun, pulsing a green-blue tint onto his world.

As the snow-covered trees faded out, Cal opened his eyes to his darkened bedroom, squinting against the bright light of the comm panel. He rubbed his eyes; waited for them to adjust to the light.

In the darkness behind his eyelids, he recalled the images from his dream.