Jeremy Robinson - SecondWorld

“Why can’t we go out?” Jake asked. “It never snows here. I want to play in the snow!”

“Dad says it’s not snow.”

Jake looked grumpy. “Well, how does he know?”

“Because, silly, snow isn’t red.”

TOKYO, JAPAN

WEDNESDAY—AUGUST 8, 2012

Akiko Sato woke to a loud chime.

She reached for the alarm and hit the snooze button. The sound disappeared and she returned to sleep within seconds.

Moments later, the shrill electronic chime sounded again. Her mind, pulled from REM sleep by the first chime, finally registered the sound for what it was—her cell phone. She rolled over to look at the clock, but her tightly tucked-in sheets resisted her movement.

Had she missed her alarm? Was work calling to find out why she was late?

When she saw the time, she relaxed.

10:30 P.M.

She’d only been asleep for half an hour.

She brought the phone up to her eyes and squinted in the screen’s bright blue glow as she read the caller ID. She groaned. Tadao. Her boyfriend. Soon to be ex-boyfriend. He was nice enough, but just too clingy for her. She hadn’t called to say goodnight, and here he was, calling her instead. She popped open the phone and decided that she would break it off with the whipped pup of a man tomorrow. Tonight she had to sleep, and that meant saying goodnight now, or the phone would ring until morning.

“I was asleep, Tadao.”

“Sorry, sorry. Right, it’s late. But you have to see something.”

Just say goodnight, hang up, and go to sleep, she willed herself. “I’m up at four thirty. You know that, don’t you? I have to go.”

“Wait! Just look out your window.”

She glanced toward the drawn shades on the other end of her long, narrow bedroom. She lived on the thirtieth floor of a high-rise apartment building. The only thing to look at outside her window was other buildings. What could he want her to see?

A surge of nervous energy stirred in her belly. Normally reserved and always professional, Tadao sounded unusually lively. Like someone about to do something stupid. He was a system programmer, making it possible for hotels to control lighting and environmental systems from one location. He had, in fact, worked on several of the hotels within eyeshot of her building.

She had a feeling she knew where this phone call was leading.

“I’m going,” she said as she yanked free of her sheets and stumbled over to the window. She hoped he wasn’t going to take a picture of her in her nightgown, using some kind of long-range camera while she read, with a scowl on her face, his marriage proposal written out in lights on the side of a building.

She was positive that’s what he had planned, because as reserved as Tadao was, that was exactly the stupid romantic kind of stunt he would pull.

She took hold of the curtain and held her breath. She’d never been one to climb slowly into a pool. She preferred to jump in. Let the shock hit her all at once and then fade all the more quickly. She counted to three, then jerked open the curtain, scouring the buildings for anything unusual.

Everything looked normal. Tokyo glowed brightly below her window. A thick haze filled the air, which was nothing new, though the color seemed more vibrant than usual. The streets were packed, which was typical.

Well, not quite typical, actually. Something was different. She pressed her nose lightly against the glass and looked down.

The streets were mobbed, but no one was moving one way or the other, simply standing frozen as they gazed upward in awe.

“Are you there? Do you see it?” Tadao asked. “Pretty amazing, right?”

She caught her breath. “I don’t see anything.”

“Step onto your balcony and look up.”

Akiko did as she was told, more curious now than worried. She unlocked the slider, pulled it open, and stepped out into the cool night air. She breathed deep and sneezed immediately. The air was bad tonight.

But then she looked up and forgot all about the air.

The sky was ablaze with colors! Like a rainbow in motion, the atmosphere from horizon to horizon danced with vivid colors like the aurora borealis seen through a kaleidoscope. Hundreds, perhaps thousands, of bright streaks, like shooting stars zipping in and out of view, made the display even more spectacular.

She laughed.

“Beautiful, right?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Like you,” he said.

Akiko frowned, closed the phone, and tossed it back inside. It began ringing a moment later. She closed the door, blocking out the sound, and returned to watching the sky. Tadao could call all night if he wanted to. She doubted anyone in Tokyo would be sleeping tonight.

She turned toward the sky again as a collective “ahhh” rose up from the streets below. The shooting stars had picked up pace. They were everywhere. They were incredibly beautiful.

But somehow ominous.

She looked down at the people below again, all still looking up. Something major was happening. She followed their gaze and for the first time saw something in the night sky brighter than the neon city lights. The haze wasn’t haze. It had a solid form to it.

Like snow.

Red snow.

She glanced down at the shoulder of her pale blue nightgown. What looked like ruddy dandruff, though some bits were more similar in size to a fifty-yen coin, covered the light fabric. Her entire nightgown was coated in it. Akiko gasped, breathing some of it in.

Tasting it.

She gagged and spit, trying to expunge the flavor from her mouth, but each breath only increased the potency.

The air tasted like blood.

NINE MILES SOUTH OF KEY LARGO, FLORIDA—ATLANTIC OCEAN

SATURDAY—AUGUST 11, 2012

Fifty feet below the surface of the tropical ocean, Lincoln Miller cringed as his eyes locked onto the cracked portal window. A spiderweb of fissures spread out from the center, reaching for the edge like desperate fingers. He knew the glass would give way at any moment and ocean water would rocket into the research station, drowning whoever was inside.

Despite the dire circumstances, he had more urgent needs to attend to. He picked up the TV remote and paused the DVD before heading to the bathroom. The picture froze on the screen, stopping the first jet of CGI water as it rocketed through the portal.

As an NCIS (Naval Criminal Investigation Service) special agent currently tasked with investigating recently reported acts of ocean dumping over the coral reefs, Miller was technically hard at work. There were only three other people in the world who knew he wasn’t—the director of the NCIS, the deputy director, and the executive assistant director for combating terrorism—his bosses. He had balked at the assignment when it landed on his desk. His skills were better suited to tracking down navy criminals on the lam or hunting seafaring terrorists. As a former Navy SEAL, now special agent, his skills seemed a gross overkill in the battle against glorified litterbugs. It wasn’t until he arrived on-site that he realized the true nature of his assignment—a vacation.

He was scheduled to spend two weeks in Aquarius, an undersea research station run by NOAA (National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration)—the world’s only underwater research station. He was required to patrol the reefs surrounding the laboratory twice daily, searching for signs of recent polluting, and if possible, apprehend the culprits in the act. As a scuba enthusiast and lover of all things ocean, he looked forward to each and every “patrol.”

Because Miller was an extreme workaholic, the NOAA assignment was the only way his superiors could get him to take his first real break in five years. It wasn’t that Miller was performing poorly; quite the opposite. They simply believed that no engine could run forever without a respite. In truth, their actions were selfish. Were Miller to burn out, the loss would be significant to the organization. Not only was he a consummate investigator, but his time with the SEALs made him a man of action as well. The NCIS had plenty of both, but rarely in the same package.