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The Resurrection: Chapter 17 – Travel Time

**Note: Although the following is part of a previously self-published eBook, portions have been modified. However, it has not been professionally edited and likely contains typos and other errors. It is offered as an example of raw science fiction storytelling.**

It came up unexpectedly during dinner. Even so Julie suspected it was part of Neville’s agenda all along. She did not like the idea at all, but it seemed convenient, considering her uncle’s funeral, for both of them to go to Star City.

She took bereavement time from work and added on a couple of personal days for travel. They owed her for the days she had worked without pay when she was technically still on vacation. Her supervisor was not happy, but he had agreed to giving her a long weekend  –  just as long as she was back at work by the following Wednesday.

Julie settled in next to Chase for the railcar ride to Star City. Neville and his wife Mary were in the seats directly ahead of them. She sat back having opted for a window seat knowing Chase needed the extra legroom for the aisle. It had been years since she’d traveled to Star City anywhere. In a way she was looking forward to have the time off from work, but she did not know what the future was going to bring, except for the basics. Chase was going to meet with Paul. Neville arranged it. There was a funeral service to attend on Sunday morning and Chase committed to escort her.

Neville was exuberantly confident about the prospects for Chase’s meeting with Paul.  He pleaded his case first to Chase. Then, along with Chase, the two pitched  the plan to Julie. Neville sincerely wanted to help. He did not want to lose anyone, certainly not one of The Twenty-Four. He said Paul was talented beyond his gifts. Absolutely convinced that if Chase could persuade Paul to cooperate, the authorities would spare his life.

The Colonial Authority would never permit Paul’s freedom ever again. It was too great a risk. To them, Paul was far too dangerous. Life in confinement was better than losing Paul’s unique genetics to the future borne of The Twenty-Four

It was a long shot that Paul would listen. Chase was not optimistic. Still, he understood Paul a little better than anyone else, with the possible exception of Cristina. He allowed there might be a psychic connection between the twins that would trump anything anyone else might offer.

Chase tried to analyze what sort of relationship he had with Paul and decided that he had a very long conversation once and only once. Afterwards he felt a certain rapport developing between them but, Paul seemed greatly disappointed that Chase did not immediately join and support The Resurrection’s cause. Never since had the two of them spoken. Even so, Neville believed that was enough to persuade Paul, to turn him away from the self-destructive course he had been pursuing? The chances were thin.

His only other link to Paul was through Cristina, a friend he adored, but he lost all contact with her and Alix. No one knew where they were.

Within the next few days Paul would stand in arraignment for multiple charges including over a hundred counts of assault and battery on officers of the Security Agency of the Colonial Authority along with conspiracy, subversion, sedition and multiple dozens of counts of murder. The prosecution was still finalizing the charges. The only reason Paul was officially classified a detainee and not a defendant was the amount of official paperwork to make the proceedings appear fair, documenting the legality of his status throughout his detainment so that his treatment was deemed completely legal beyond reproach.

It would not take long for the charges to be prosecuted. There would be a minimum of publicity and no fanfare except for a sweeping announcement that a high priority target in the war against the subversive group known as The Resurrection was convicted of his crimes and would be summarily executed within days of his trail. Under the current conditions there were no appeals on convictions of sedition or terrorism, of which Paul was accused.

There would be no bargains, no secret deals made in the last moments – not unless Paul cooperated to break up The Resurrection. In the interest of security, the Colonial Authority did not want any details to become public. They wanted to send a clear message to the other members of The Resurrection that what they determined to be justice would be swiftly delivered. Paul was about to be sacrificed and he appeared to be the willing scapegoat, betrayed by his own friends. Even Chase and Julie contributed to the Colonial Authority’s mounting evidence.

Julie reclined in her seat. It was going to be a very long ride. She closed her eyes and lingered on the edge of slumber for several moments before passing willingly into sleep. Thankfully it was a dreamless but restful interlude after which she roused to observe the desert landscape passing by outside the railcar window. When Chase noticed she was awake he told her they had about four hours left before their arrival.

Had she slept that long?

Julie brought her seat to its full upright position. Mary, Neville’s wife turned around and said something to her that she did not quite catch over the background hum of the railcar. Maybe it was irrelevant, probably some socially lubricating fluff. She heard what Mary asked afterward, though, “Are you thirsty?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact,” Julie said.

“These railcars are uncomfortable for being the most convenient means of travel,” Mary commented as she passed back a canteen from which Julie drew a cup of water, then, she offered it back to Mary with her gratitude.

“I have another. Why don’t you just hang onto that one?”

“Thank you,” Julie reiterated.

“Why don’t you boys sit together so Julie and I can talk?” Mary suggested.

Chase looked at Julie and received a noncommittal shrug as he unfastened his safety belt and gave up his seat to Mary. Neville scooted over to the window seat so that Chase could have the aisle.

“It’s been a while since we have been to Star City,” Mary began once Julie was situated. “Neville’s mother and father still live there, but we haven’t been there for quite some time. We have invited them to Andromeda on many occasions but they do not want to close their coffee shop even for a few days. I understand it’s their life, but…well, it’s always a discussion. Arnie, Neville’s father, made some lucrative investments years ago, when the city was first developing. He met a financier who arranged his portfolio, so that honestly he and Emma, Neville’s mother, don’t have to work. They keep the place going because they enjoy it and they serve their friends everyday. They’re good people and generous to a fault. I’m looking forward to seeing them again.”

“They sound like nice people.”

As Neville settled in the seat behind he was mostly quiet and spent most of his time staring out the window. Honestly, he had not said much for the entire trip. He was reserved in putting too much hope into things. It required a lot of Chase and relied on whatever relationship he had with Paul. Still, Chase had talked to Paul and had even been offered a role in The Resurrection. That was what Neville was counting on. That could be the difference.

“The last time we were in Star City it was to celebrate Neville’s parents moving out into a nicer home. The built their first place when Neville was starting high school. Before that they lived in the upstairs apartment above their coffee shop,” Mary explained. “Neville’s sisters were there for the housewarming. It was good seeing them and their families. They were at out wedding and we went to their weddings. Because of the distance and Neville’s work, it’s hard to get together. It was really a very nice reunion of sorts, around the holidays. I really like Neville’s family. It’s harder getting my family together. My dad had four boys and two girls. I’m the baby.”

Julie smiled.

“I think the last time all of us were together was Dad’s funeral. That’s been five years ago.”

“They’re not from Andromeda, I take it?”

“Of no, I met Neville at college. I’m originally from Haven. So, I’m kind of isolated from my family same as Neville is from his. But his work is important for all of us, researching the fertility rates.”

It occurred to Julie that Mary was not privy to everything Neville did.

“Sometimes I wonder if its worth it, being so isolated,” Mary said. “But it’s like Neville says, we’re frontier people. What about you, Julie? Is your family from Andromeda?”

“Borne and raised,” she said. “My parents – well my dad is dead, but my Mom’s still alive, which is–”

“Her mother works at the Institute,” Neville interrupted.

“So that’s how you know each other,” Mary said. “I guess I figured Neville knew Chase. They seemed to hit it off so well the other night.”

“Chase’s mother works at the Institute as well,” Neville said.

“Oh, how nice!”

“I have family in Star City,” Julie revealed. “Mostly people I haven’t seen since I was a kid. “Dad didn’t like traveling. I don’t either. I don’t like having to make scheduling arrangements all that much either.”

“Neither do I,” Mary revealed. “I love going out to eat at restaurants, but usually the places I knew well. Neville has a peculiar taste for things. He can’t seem to eat the synthetic foods.”

“I don’t like them either,” Julie admitted. “I can eat them, but I’d rather have organically grown food. Chase is the same way.”

“That’s Neville too.”

“I get that from my folks,” he said. “Their coffee shop serves breakfast – only real eggs and meat – everything organically grown.”

“Every once in a while I may try something different, some place I have never been,” Mary continued. But usually I don’t.”

“That’s what I like about Andromeda. There are a variety of places to go out for dinner and entertainment afterwards,” Julie said. “Chase travels a lot, especially when he is on tour. He sends me pictures so I kind of know where he has been and what he has seen. When he’s away we talk almost every night on the phone, depending on the time zones and when the show was scheduled. But now his company is thinking of expanding and giving him a promotion, so he would not have to travel as much.”

“That would be great,” Mary said.

“Yeah, I miss him a lot when he is away.”

Chase had tried not to pay attention but they were talking about him so it became nearly impossible for him to ignore. Still, he did not care to participate or comment. There was still more than three and a half hours left on the trip. Despite the amount of traveling he had previously done he never got used to it, especially the long periods of nothing much to do other than sleep, read or talk to someone else. For the moment, Neville had been talking more with Mary and Julie.

Chase had finished reading the book he brought along and he had already taken as long a nap as he was going to need. So, he was wide-awake.

Finally, Neville broke the silence, offering Chase a stick of jerky.

“Thanks,” Chase said as he accepted.

“I always bring snacks when I travel. Mary brings the water.”

“As much as I travel I should be better at coping with it. But I’m never very comfortable in these railcar seats,” Chase said. “The last tour I did, toward the end we had a chartered railcar. At least we could stretch out and sleep.”

“The administrators in the Colonial Authority who could change the types of accommodations on the railcars never travel by railcar. That is part of the problem,” Neville explained.

“The railcars are hardly ever full. There’s enough room to put in some beds. The railcars are connected to the network for tracking. They could broadcast world viewer channels over the same connections.”

“When the domes are down and the control of the world passes to the cities and their associated provincial administrations, or even private investment interests, perhaps some things will change,” Neville said. “Right now, The Colonial Authority has no interest in promoting travel between the cities. I think they would be just as happy if everyone stayed put.”

“Things won’t change much if we allow the same people to run the new governments,” Chase said.

Neville nodded. “You’re correct there. But initially people will seek the stability of the past over the uncertainty of the future. It will be easier at first to rename the bureaucracy that has already been in control and allow it to continue.”

Chase leaned back in his seat, taking a bite of jerky and chewing it before pronouncing, “Humans are very predictable and generally gullible.”

“In many ways we are but not in all ways. Groups are always more predictable in their behaviors than individuals.”

“Is that the logic behind the handling of The Twelve?”

Neville smiled, clearing his throat. “I’m not allowed to discuss all the details, of course. I don’t think it was planned. There was no grand conspiracy or anything. It evolved into what it is. We needed the Institute and most of the budget has been tracking the offspring. We needed a place, comfortable residence for the studies. At first we fully expected it to be very temporary. They planned to convert the living space to other functions once the study of The Twelve was concluded. My role was temporary until about fifteen years ago. That was when the Colonial Authority made the Institute a part of its ongoing programs funding budget. It was fortuitous that all of The Twelve get along so well, but in many ways they think alike.”

“The children are very different.”

“Yes and no,” Neville said, seeming to be debating whether to discuss The Twenty-Four. “I dare say there are enough similarities to get along very well.” He leaned over and whispered to Chase about the security provisions and that Mary did not know most of what Chase and Julie knew.

Chase nodded that he understood.

Quietly, being as discreet as possible, Neville continued. “Even in the instances where the children have met one another, there appears to be an immediate bond that transcends anything that might seem to be a difference. As radical as one might be, for example, it is not so distinct they others do not understand the motivation.”

Chase nodded.

“It’s more about fair treatment, I think,” Chase said.

“That’s up to us, now,” Neville whispered, patting Chase on the knee. “Getting a fir hearing. There’s an old saying. I’m not sure whom it comes from but my dad used to say it. ‘I may not be as good as I think, but I’m not as bad as you say.’“

“There is always the other side of any story,” Chase said.

“Unfortunately, where some are concerned, the story may never be permitted.”

“They monitor everything. There must be documentation.”

“If that exists, it’s all highly classified, well above my clearance.”

“What do you mean ‘if that exists’?” Chase asked.

“Not everything is archived,” Neville revealed.

“To conceal the methods used.”

“Perhaps,” Neville allowed.

“What other reason could there be?”

“The nature of the subject might weigh heavily in the decision. The risk recording a discussion of highly sensitive information, for example.”

“There should be nothing to hide,” Chase countered.

“In an ideal world maybe that could be true. But in the real world those who administer and control will always have secrets they would never want to become common knowledge. Naturally they have a low tolerance for undermining of their authority.”

“It’s quasi-government.”

“Of course it is. They ensure the security, structure and services. They enforce regulations and laws, settle disputes and punish those who act against social order and stability. A serious threat is anything with the potential to escalate beyond control and, in the extreme, into open confrontation.”

“They create their own enemies whether real or imagined.”

“They are real enough,” Neville said. “They will never admit blame for anything because it undermines their authority.”

“They don’t need to,” Chase said. “There is no accountability except to themselves through their own structure.”

“Structure? What structure?” Neville asked.

“There has to be structure to the organization.”

Neville stared at the younger man. “They’re a large group of loosely affiliated entities that serve administrative functions to facilitate everything imaginable. They are not a monolithic,” Neville said. “Perhaps that’s where all the confusion begins. The parts created independently to better administer the processes and address specific needs. Over time, they were forced into more and more of the quasi-governmental functions. There was never a singularity of purpose, other than perhaps preservation of the bureaucracy they were forced to create. The truth is that each agency and administration is distinct and autonomous. There is no one in charge or any single overriding authority to which anyone answers. There is no accountability outside of the hierarchy within any separate administration or agency.”

“Yet there is communication between the various administrations and agencies,” Chase said.

“Of course there is but within some constraints for accessing information up to a certain clearance level for the shared databases and records of other elements. The information is never openly offered unless it is of a specific and obvious nature that is of interest to another administration or agency. Then it must be approved through the appropriate channels, which could care less for expediting the information needs of any other administration or agency. Once then something becomes a priority for an administration to the calls go out to other administrators. Then it becomes a matter of sharing amongst friends with whom there is a social as well as a business relationship.”

Chase glanced away, feeling the uncomfortable sensation of eyes watching him. He could not discern who was watching or even the direction he should look to catch them. It was an odd sensation even though he had it before, a long time ago, long before he ever met Julie, back when he was a kid – a troublemaker.

“Is something wrong?” Neville asked.

“No, not really, just something I haven’t felt for a long time,” he unfastened his safety belt and stood-up, ostensibly stretching but also taking a good look at the other passengers. Many were sleeping. Some were reading. A few were having quiet conversations. Then he spotted him – someone he hadn’t seen for a long while. Chase was staring directly at him. He did not flinch or look away. It had to be him. There was no one else who could withstand Chase’s stare. “Pick?”

“I thought it was you, Chaser!”

Chase felt the heat of Julie’s glare from behind, but even so he turned to explain. “An old friend.”

“Friend?”

“Yeah, we were from grade school through high school. Pick’s cool. He’d not one of the bad guys, just a troublemaker.”

Pick had ventured over to where Chase stood. They shook hands. “I heard some crazy crap about you being all successful and everything.”

“Well, I don’t know about that.”

“The seat beside me is vacant, take a load off. We can play catch up.”

Chase obliged and looked ahead finally meeting Julie’s concerned eyes. He smiled and winked.

“Your lady?”

“Yeah.”

“Nice, very nice. It figures you’d hook up with some seriously sweet thing like her.”

“She’s amazing. What about you? What was her name, Tamila?”

“Damn, man, you have quite a memory. I haven’t thought about that bitch in years! She dumped me and took off with some guy who promised her the world. He told her he would make her famous. Since I ain’t never heard of her since, we all know that was a lie.”

“So, what takes you to Star City?”

“Other than the smart ass answer?”

“The railcar, yeah – I got that.”

“I’m startin’ over, you know? Getting away from the streets and the people who think they know me but don’t. I have a prospect in Star City working for an ad agency.”

“That’s how I got my start, in Andromeda, though.”

“No kidding. Well, maybe this is the time of the Pick.”

“I hope so, man.”

“Thanks, Chaser. How about you? You on business or pleasure?”

“Her uncle died. And there’s some business, sort of.”

“Nothing you can discuss.”

“Not really. A guy I know who’s the brother of a close friend of mine is in a lot of trouble. I’m going to see if I can help him out.”

“Same as it always was,” Pick said and then smiled. “Always saving somebody.”

“Yeah. I missed my calling. I should have been a super hero.”

Pick laughed. “You and me both, dude. But that’s cool. It’s about the people in life, you know. Nothing else is important.”

“You know, we’re going to be staffing a new office soon in Andromeda. If things in Star City fall through, come look me up. It’ll be entry level but you’re smart and hard working. You can get there.”

“I appreciate that.”

“She’s giving me the evil eye.”

“I know it well,” Pick said. “What’s her name?”

“Julie.”

“I always liked that name.”

“Yeah, me too. I’d better get back to her. It was great seeing you.”

“Same here, Chaser.”

“I’m serious about the job thing.”

He nodded. “If this doesn’t pan out, I’ll look you up.”

Chase shook his hand and then both of them stood up and embraced as brothers of the same old neighborhood. “You take care.”

“You too, bro.”

Chase migrated back up the aisle, while Julie stared at him. After he sat down he felt compelled to answer her silent inquiry. “His name is Richard, we called him Pick. He’s from my old neighborhood. Sometimes it was him and me against the world, but we usually won.”

Julie nodded.

In his absence, Neville had returned to staring out the window and being silent. Chase glanced at his chronometer. The trip had a little less than two and a half hours left. He reclined in his seat and closed his eyes. Even if he did not sleep he could focus his thoughts and concentrate. He was not certain what he could do, only he needed to be there for Paul whenever the demand necessitated.

Maybe something unexpected would happen. It would not be like an accident or a coincidence because such things just do not exist. It would be the result of a series of events some catalyst triggered. A stream would ensue and it would arrive at the exact time and place largely without the knowledge or expectations of anyone involved. The mystery would prevail in consideration of the apparent accident and it would never be appreciated for what it was, the logical extension of causality inherent in the design.

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The Resurrection: Chapter 16 – Slahl’yukim

**Note: Although the following is part of a previously self-published eBook, portions have been modified. However, it has not been professionally edited and likely contains typos and other errors. It is offered as an example of raw science fiction storytelling.**

The local sun was setting, illuminating the bottoms of the clouds heavily laden with poisonous gases that gave each of them a green tint. Higher aloft there were a few clouds that seem to glow red, hinting the presence of other gases. Without the breathing filters contained in their masks, both Cristina and Alix knew that they would have already been gasping, choking, retching and subject to a miserable death.

At least the wind was relatively calm. Pre-terraform Pravda was known to have intense sandstorms that lasted several months. But since the earliest seeding of the clouds the weather had developed a more benign attitude at times, more prone to precipitation of droplets of water laced with a chemical cocktail of acids and dissolved poisons.

As quiet as it was, they still felt their skin tingling. Without a doubt the poisonous gasses were being absorbed into their skin. They could not remain for long where they were. It was going to have to be a very brief visit. They were halfway up a ridge in the foothills of very tall mountains heading for a cavern’s entrance.

“This is near Haven,” Cristina voiced her recognition through the muffling of the heavy filters.

“The cave’s right there,” Alix said as he led the way. “I’ve read about this place.”

“Do you think we’ll find sand-morphs?”

“It’s worth a try,” he said over his shoulder. “This is supposed to be where the bodies were found. Otherwise, we’re going to go back with nothing.”

“Next time we need to wear engineer uniforms.”

“If there is to be a next time,” Alix said.

“We have come this far,” Cristina said. “I’m thinking positive. This is going to work.” She hurried toward the cave’s opening. Alix sped up to keep her pace and they arrived at the entrance at about the same moment.

When they entered the narrow opening in the wall of a cliff, it was as if they were stepping into a strong gale as the wind from within the cave rushed out and past them. Even as they descended past the opening they still felt a strong breeze, the cool wind emerging from deep within the cavern. The air passing over and around them neutralized the poisons that still clung to their skin and clothing. No longer did their skin sting from the contaminants.

Cristina paused. Slowly, despite Alix’s protest, she removed the mask from her face, blinking to allow her eyes to adjust to the atmosphere and the dimness of the cave. She kept the mask close to her face until she ventured a shallow breath, then a deeper one as she was certain the air was safe to breathe. “It’s fresh air,” she announced. Then after taking several deep breaths she motioned for him to remove his mask. “It’s very clean air, oxygen rich.”

After a few breaths, Alix began looking around. “This is over-pressured from inside. It’s forcing the poisonous air to remain outside. For someone…”

“The Sand-morphs.”

“They are the only ‘someones’ on the planet,” Alix said.

“That we know of.”

“Yes, that we know of,” Alix confirmed. “They use the cave opening much like we use the airlocks on the accesses into the domes.”

“So, even the sand-morphs do not like the poisonous air.”

“It seems odd,” Alix said. “If they were indigenous life, would they not have evolved to live outside? They prefer being in the caves maybe because they can control the air here. Maybe Dom is right about them being colonists.”

“Or they are cave dwellers. They are silicon-based life. Still, it seems a little strange.”

“More than a little,” Alix said as he took the lead for their gradual descent into the cavern, being careful and alert to any sounds while looking for any movement or signs of life.

“They know we are here,” Cristina said.

“You can sense them?”

“Yes,” she said. “I understand some of their thoughts but they are coming in very unorthodox patterns.”

“Do they know you can understand their thoughts?”

She paused, and then soberly she announced, “They do not like us.”

“What?”

“They don’t want us here.”

“Then we have our answer,” he said. “We should leave.”

“No,” she said. “Wait.”

Alix halted.

“They feel threatened. They don’t understand us. We’re alien. They’ve seen some others of our kind. They are afraid of us.”

Alix sat down on a relatively flat rock outcropping. “Then we wait.”

“For what?”

“For them to come to us. That’s what you do when animals are afraid of you.”

“They’re not animals.”

“They would be from our perspective – or actually they’re more like a pile of sand.”

“I don’t think they’ll come to us. They won’t consider meeting us relevant enough. There’ll be no reason to meet us if we pose no immediate threat so they’ll just ignore us until we go away.”

“But we won’t go away and in five days they will be exterminated.”

Cristina sat down next to Alix. “That is just it, they are curious about us but not in any way we would normally understand. They want nothing at all to do with life forms like us. They want to be left alone in this world.”

“It is their world, then?” Alix asked.

“They claim it, same as we do,” Cristina said. “They really are in the process of turning this world into one suitable for them. The caverns are like our domes.”

Alix’s eyes widened. “They’re colonists, like Dom said, then?”

Cristina nodded.

“It changes everything!”

“What does it change, really?”

“Obviously, they were here making this their world. Then e came along.”

“They were here first. They purposely hid from us. They avoided detection just like they’re doing now. Because of that they died,” Cristina said. “They’ll not be inclined to work with us or even share the planet. They do not desire the same environment that we want.”

“Then we wasted our efforts coming here.”

“No, not at all,” she said. “Now, we know more of the truth.”

“You’re ready to return to the present?”

“Not quite. They need to be warned. Maybe if they are warned…”

Alix was staring at the entrance and wondering. “How did the sterilization reach into these caverns if the caverns are over-pressurized?”

Cristina tilted her head to one side.

“Yeah, see we have attempted to solve one mystery and discovered another.”

“You don’t think the survey teams knew about the sand-morphs and somehow disabled the over-pressuring of the caverns,” Cristina posed.

“Look at the investments that were made to even make a full survey of this world. The near Earth colonies were growing overcrowded and until that point only one terrestrial candidate world outside of the Earth solar system was viable. A lot of hope had been invested in Pravda well in advance of any survey teams. Afterwards a fortune was invested just to get the world ready for the first colonists.” Alix stood up and paced back and forth as he continued his thoughts in silence. Even so his thoughts were apparent to Cristina even without her probing. He was disgusted. It was obvious what happened – or rather, would happen in a few days. Perhaps it was too late to alter any of that but now he knew.

The world needed to know the truth about Pravda.

“What do we do now?” Cristina asked when she sensed a lull in his thoughts.

“You know where they are.”

“Roughly.”

“Then we find them.”

“There are many of them.”

“How many?”

“There are more minds that I can count; thousands, maybe more.”

“You can find them and communicate with them.”

“Maybe they’ll understand me. I don’t know how that works.”

“You understand them.”

“Yes, to a fairly high degree. Some of their concepts are bizarre, so much so that I do not understand at all but I know what they are thinking in most cases.”

“That’s good enough for me. We can always go back home if it gets to be threatening or you sense imminent danger. Just stay close and hold on to my hand.”

“I don’t know what we will confront,” she warned as she took his hand and he assisted her back onto the floor of the cave.

Together they continued to descend into first one large chamber and then one even larger.

“They’re here,” she announced, prompting Alix to pause, then he turned around quickly, sensing some movement and observing a few shifting shadows.

“Find one who’s mind you can access and focus on it. Try to communicate. Tell it we intend no harm and have actually come to prevent any harm to them.”

Cristina stood off to one side, her eyes closed tightly and her face illuminated only by the faint glow that the talisman around her neck emitted. She probed here and there as she searched for an unsuspecting mind that would allow her access, not knowing whether a sand-morph would be capable of understanding whatever thoughts she projected. It was their only hope of success.

Finally, she found one mind, a particularly robust individual and somewhat unique from what she was able to discern. In fact, he was singularly dynamic and ambitious. To the chagrin of others around him, he stepped out from the shadows of concealment and bravely stood directly in front of her.

She had no experience or knowledge about the structures of the body, only suspected that since there appeared to a head that the part of it facing her must be a face. She attempted communication.

“Slahl’yukim,” she uttered.

“What was that?’ Alix asked.

“It’s the sand-morph’s name.”

“It’s personal name of the name of the species.”

“It is a personal name. Actually, he’s something like a poet.”

“Really?”

“Yes, he’s a little different from the others and a lot more open-minded.”

“He can understand you?”

“Only a little bit,” then she chuckled. “He’s trying to do the same thing with me that I’m doing with him. Some of the images he’s receiving don’t make sense,” she said then she turned back and smiled.

There was a gradual change in Slahl’yukim’s appearance. His face – or what she assumed was his face – seemed to brighten. Then, a veritable tidal wave of information submerged her mind, saturating it to overloading with everything and anything about him. He was famous among his kind but was regarded as a maverick. Exiled from their home world because he challenged the authority of their leadership, he was gathering a loyal following who supported his antithetical views.

As her mind was flooded she felt a comparable drain. Slahl’yukim was at least capable to some extent of telepathy and was probing her mind. It felt strange but she resisted her initial response to block his access. After a few moments, Slahl’yukim closed what she realized were his eyes, and then when he opened them what she decided was actually his face radiated warmth. “Cris-ti-na,” he struggled to utter. It sounded gravelly at first but then he repeated it several times as if practicing it, each time the delivery was smoother.

“Slahl’yukim,” Cristina said directing her hand toward him but then indicated with her other hand, “Alix.”

“Al-ix,” the sand-morph repeated.

Cristina indicated both herself and made a gesture to Alix, “Human,” she said.

Slahl’yukim stared at her, then as he realized what she had meant his face brightened again. “Sakum’mal,” he used one of his limbs to point to his torso then he turned and made a more sweeping gesture, “Sakum’malien.”

Cristina smiled excitedly, then nodded. “He’s teaching me some basics of their language,” she said over her shoulder to Alix.

“I see that.”

“Cris-ti-na pret-ty hu-man, yes?”

“Yes, she is pretty,” Alix answered.

Slahl’yukim looked at Alix as if angered for his apparent interruption but then softened and finally made a gurgling sound, which Cristina sensed was a laugh of sorts. The sakum’mal fell silent. He seemed to be searching, probing and testing then his face brightened just before he uttered. “A-lix jeal-ous Slahl’yukim.”

Cristina laughed. “Wow, he’s very bright! He’s learning our language from what he received of my thoughts.”

“Slahl’yukim,” Cristina addressed him. “Humans are a danger to Sakum’malien. Five more times of sunrise, Sakum’malien will die. Humans do not know the Sakum’malien are hiding.”

Slahl’yukim stepped back understanding some but not all of what Cristina had tried to convey. She reinforced her message with images of her world, the future world from which she and Alix had come.

Then she added, “Sakum’malien colony becomes human colony.”

She could see the growing concern as it swept over his face. He turned and made several quick utterances to the others. Some of them emerged from the shadows, prompting Alix to step closer to Cristina.

“Fear not Slahl’yukim. Fear not Sakum’malien. Future coming here, me know. You help us wanting.”

Cristina focused all of her mind toward communicating to Slahl’yukim but still there was resistance and gaps in bridging the understanding. He was getting some of it but never really all she wanted him to know.

“Human kill us,” Slahl’yukim said.

“Yes, in five days.”

“Now kill us.”

“No.”

“Already kill us,” he rephrased.

“See,” Alix said. “It’s just like I thought.”

Cristina lowered her head, “I’m sorry,” she said, but then when she lifted her head to look at Slahl’yukim, a tear dripped down her cheek. “Humans who are here now are evil, bad people, not normal.”

Slahl’yukim turned away but then as if he had finally fathomed what she said. When he turned back, “Sakum’malien, human same. Some good; some bad. Some smart; some stupid.”

“You’re learning my language rapidly.”

Slahl’yukim nodded. “My language easy for you, for Alix. I teach. Already know much, I think.”

“I’d like that.”

“Me too,” Alix agreed.

He reached out to her with one of his appendages and at the end of it was something that resembled a hand. She placed her hand in his and he led her deeper into the cavern. Other Sakum’malien surrounded Alix even as he was following them and after a few moments all of them who were hiding emerged. It was a positive development. Cristina had broken through. She communicated with them. He didn’t know whether it would matter only that it could. There was a chance; there was hope.

Slahl’yukim led Cristina to a chamber where only she and he entered. Alix remained outside, as did the remainder of the Sakum’malien.

Cristina paid attention both to what Slahl’yukim uttered and what he projected mentally. In this way he provided her reference and structure upon which the language was based. After a few moments she understood its format. “It really is like music,” she said. Then she amended, “It’s exactly like music. It’s a language that is mostly music, except it adds in colors to the sounds.” She turned to Alix who was waiting patiently just outside of the chamber’s threshold. “Alix, it’s complicated music, like if we did a concern with our instruments and the lasers lightshow. That’s what it’s like talking to them, mentally. It’s beautiful imagery. A good portion of it is like our music. It is tonal with nuance added with harmonics overlaying the fundamental expressions. Wow, I wish you could hear it and see it like I can,” she said as she listened to Slahl’yukim reading a passage of the recorded Sakum’malien’s history that was etched into the smooth wall.

Cristina began to imitate what Slahl’yukim was reciting, but she carried the harmony beneath her utterances just as was intended, causing the Sakum’mal to pause in his reading but even more significant all of the Sakum’malien around Alix lowered closer to the floor of the cavern, as if they were bowing.

“Words sacred,” Slahl’yukim said almost as a warning for her not to utter them even in imitation and never to attempt singing them.

“It’s a song,” she countered, then turned to Alix, “I can see the structure. It is not like the way we write music, but it’s still music.”

“Maybe you should not further piss-off your instructor,” Alix suggested from the threshold.

“Slahl’yukim, I apologize. I understand the way your language is written. It’s like human music to a very large degree. I can sing it.”

Slahl’yukim did not understand everything she said but enough that he responded. “Others not ready. Words sacred,” he searched his memory of what he had acquired from Cristina’s thoughts. “This prophecy is ancient language – not used more… anymore. Symbols same meaning little changed,” then he indicated with a sweeping gesture, “All ancient things mysteries.”

“How long have your been in this world.”

“Sakum’malien here many generation. I come this generation, serve exile. Language different, custom changed. I adapt,” he said showing a good deal more comfort with Cristina’s language.

“Your home, does not help anyone here?”

Slahl’yukim gurgled with humor. “First Sakum’malien here sent die. Prisoners, misfits, malcontents. Adapt, time pass, organs changed. Outside can breathe sometimes – short while. Air inside, clean – prefer. Me, breathe outside, no good. Sick, make me. No adapt, much soon.”

“You come back with us,” Cristina said and projected. “You show humans.”

He paused, perhaps his expression was even a frown for a Sakum’malien. “Go you with where?”

“The future.”

“Human future not Sakum’malien. Pointless go there.”

“Sakum’malien are all dead in future. Humans do not know the truth about Sakum’malien.”

Slahl’yukim nodded slowly, having adopted some of Cristina’s characteristics and body language. “How me, others you save with you go future?”

“Sakum’malien can be resurrected. The bodies of thousands were preserved.”

Again Slahl’yukim appeared overwhelmed. “Prevent Sakum’malien die, here. Easier. Better.”

“We can do both then,” Cristina said.

“Pointless,” Slahl’yukim reiterated.

“How’s it pointless?” Cristina countered. “You come and help us in the future.”

“You help now. Past change. Future different.”

“Cristina, I don’t know if it’s wise to consider what he’s suggesting,” Alix said. “I mean, it could alter our future. We might cease to exist.”

“Or return to a better world,” she countered.

Slahl’yukim turned and stepped past Cristina. He said something to the Sakum’malien nearest to the threshold of the chamber. There was an apparently heated discussion for a few moments. Then he turned and walked back toward Cristina, “They know important reason come. Gratitude warning us. Say all fine. Poisons not inside caverns. What do humans, not matter.”

“Slahl’yukim, I assure you there are no living Sakum’malien on this planet in my time.”

“None aware you.”

“They could hide for a time but I seriously doubt there’s anywhere. After many generations of human exploration and habitation, everything has been explored.”

Slahl’yukim fell silent appraising what he could of what Cristina had told him. Then he focused on her eyes. “No Sakum’malien in future.”

“None living.”

He returned to the threshold and uttered far and loud for all to hear. Cristina understood enough of it to hear the plea in his voice. He was telling them the truth as he understood it, that she and Alix had come from the future to warn everyone of their impending doom because humans in the future understood it was wrong to exterminate them even if it was mostly unintended.

“Trust no humans,” Slahl’yukim said to Alix as he passed by. Alix did not know how to take it, but felt it was uttered in disgust. As he returned to Cristina he commented, “They much stupid. No listen. Dumb no survive.”

“If you stay you will die,” Cristina told him. “In five days.”

He nodded in response. “Sakum’malien place here, me too.”

“They can be resurrected. Some bodies preserved. My brother believes they can be brought back to life.”

“Bro-ther,” Slahl’yukim emulated, and then sought meaning from his recollection of having acquired Cristina’s thoughts. “Paul,” he pronounced, having found the name along with images in her memories that he acquired.

“Yes, Paul. You can help Paul. He wants to help you.”

Slahl’yukim seemed to radiate warmth. “Go time come. Take me, go.”

Amazon, Online Ordering, Shopping, Uncategorized

Shopping with Amazon -or- How to Wrestle with the 800-Pound Gorilla & Sometimes Win

I use Amazon. These days, who doesn’t? I own a Kindle Paperwhite and use it about 80% of the time when I read eBooks. When I read at my desk I use the computer Kindle App. And because the Kindle device and app synch, I can switch back and forth without losing my place. Convenient.

About once a month or so I order something, occasionally more, but it has never been enough for me to justify the expense of an Amazon Prime membership. Yes, it would be nice to download and read books for free, but not worth the monthly fee. And I’m not one of those people who needs two-day delivery on everything I buy. If I do, I guess I can pay for rapid delivery.

So, even though there are a lot of things about Amazon that I like, their hard and heavy push to boost their Amazon Prime memberships each time I buy something irritates me. What’s more, I don’t appreciate the heavy-handed tactics they use to entice people to subscribe. Let me explain.

In case you don’t know, Amazon delays shipping orders going to non-Prime customers. It is a fact. I’ve seen it first-hand. Things that I order will sit in the queue for 3 days (or more) before processing begins. It’s a penalty for checking the little box that says, “No, I don’t want my order shipped in the quickest way possible” – or whatever the exact verbiage is for that button I must check to not sign up for the trial Prime account they offer with each purchase.

If the order is fulfilled by Amazon from one of their warehouses, sometimes it appears to be routed from an alternate location that is farther away. Yes, I get it that sometimes a nearer location may be out of something, or perhaps they don’t stock the item, but it happens often enough that I think I’m right on this one. It is yet another way to delay an order from shipping.

The tactic used to be blatantly obvious. If you ordered two things, one fulfilled from an Amazon authorized supplier on the other coast from where you live and the other from Amazon (an item they stock in the warehouse nearest you) the item from across the country would arrive a couple or three days before the Amazon supplied item. To prevent that from happening (and being obvious), if you don’t use Prime, Amazon sits on your order for three days regardless of the fulfillment.

If you doubt any of this, test it. I have several times.

If Amazon wants (or rather if they need to because of a problem) they can get something to you from one of their warehouses on the same day you ordered it. They can certainly ship anything you order that is stocked in one of their facilities and get it to you within two days. That’s the Prime deal, right? They should be able to get a non-Prime package to me within four days, which I’m okay with. I think most people would be. But that is contrary to Amazon’s goal of having everyone signed up for Prime. So, without Prime I’ve come to expect seven days or maybe ten.

Why does Amazon rule the world? That’s the real question every one of their competitors needs to ask. You see, any company that wants to capture the hearts of disgruntled Amazon customers (like me) only has to do things the same or (preferably) better. For example, guarantee FREE two-day delivery for any purchase $20 or more, which undercuts Amazon’s $25 – without any membership fee. Heck, guarantee FREE 3 or 4 day delivery without a fee. That’s still better than the service from Amazon for non-Prime members.

Last Saturday I ordered a few things I’ll need for a trip I’m taking to the Midwest to promote my books. As always, I didn’t select the One Month Trial for Prime. And I confirmed that I didn’t want the items shipped in the fastest way possible. I expected I’d get them in a week or so. And that was fine. One of the four items was coming from an authorized supplier. The other items were fulfilled by Amazon, two from the warehouse south of Tampa and the other from a warehouse in South Carolina. I use past tense because the items have all arrived (two on Monday and one of them on Tuesday). Why so soon? Well, you see, I decided to cancel the item coming from the authorized supplier because it would take so long (possibly two weeks). I had decided to buy somewhere else or make a different selection. The box I checked for the reason for the cancellation was “It will take too long to arrive.” Then a funny thing happened. The next morning, Sunday, I received shipping confirmation on all my Amazon fulfilled items, showing them expected on Monday and Tuesday. This sort of proves that Amazon could get the items to me faster if they wanted to. Obviously, someone decided to get my stuff to me before I cancelled the whole order.

Despite my attempt to cancel the order for the last item (within 24 hours, mind you) Amazon was unable to kill the order with the vendor. I’m skeptical about that whole thing, but I’m receiving the item on Saturday. That is a week earlier than the expected date given to me when they sent the order confirmation. We’ll see if the product suits my needs, which was one of the reasons I tried to cancel the order. The supplier received some negative reviews about the item being a cheap knock off, not the real thing.

Yes, all this expedited order shipping could be a coincidence? Except, I write mysteries often enough that I don’t believe in coincidences. The fact remains that an 800-pound gorilla can do pretty-much what it wants. Amazon can make anything happen with shipping, if they want to. You can believe that.

Blog, Books, Editing, Environment, Fantasy, Future, music, novel, Publishing, Rock Music, Science Fiction, Space, Technology, Uncategorized, Urban Fantasy, Word, Writing

The Resurrection: Chapter 15 – Revelation

**Note: Although the following is part of a previously self-published eBook, portions have been modified. However, it has not been professionally edited and likely contains typos and other errors. It is offered as an example of raw science fiction storytelling.**

Julie stared at him, her mind working in its usual quick way, leaping ahead four or five steps in logical conversation as she asked, “You think Neville is actually on our side?”

Chase adjusted to the seemingly abrupt change of subject but he also realized that everything was interconnected and that Julie appreciated that as much as he did. “I think he’s honest and really wants to help. It hurts nothing to get to know him better, meet his wife and have dinner with them.”

“When does he want to do this?”

“Soon, maybe on the weekend. He needs to discuss it with his wife.”

“So, it was something you two came up with on the fly?”

“Yeah, I guess it was. It started with him saying that he wanted to save Paul in whatever way that he can. He doesn’t see the need to execute him, which is where the process appears to be heading rapidly. The Colonial Authority does not want that either, but Paul’s killed people.”

“If Paul is anything like the rest of us, he has his own personal set of rules that he obeys.”

“Exactly and if he killed that many agents they must have given him more than enough cause.”

“Tell Neville okay to the invitation. I’ll have to check my schedule if it is before next weekend.”

“I think he was hinting about Friday.”

“I think I could do that,” Julie said. “My supervisor is out of town from Wednesday on and his boss always leaves early on Friday.”

“Which means you might really get off of work on time.”

“Yeah,” Julie said. “Sometimes I hate being on salary.”

Chase laughed, “Me too,” he said as he had reached the curb in front of Julie’s apartment. “But then, the bonus check comes in along with the stock options and, all of a sudden, those seventy-hour work weeks seem to have been compensated.”

“Do you want to come up?”

“Uh, well…yeah,” Chase said, as he opened the passenger door and Julie stepped out of the coach. Then Chase exited and using the remote docked his coach in the visitor’s rack. Returning the remote to his pocket, he followed Julie into the familiar lobby of the place that, until recently, was also his residence.

They rode the elevator up to her floor and entered her apartment where she immediately went to the bathroom while Chase sat down in the living room and checked out what was going on via the world viewer array of screens.

As Julie emerged from the bathroom the phone chimed and Chase reached for the remote and clicked answer.

“Julie, Yates here,” the image of the speaker dominated the main screen.”

“What’s up?”

“Oh, hi there Chase.”

“Hello,” Chase responded feeling it was pretentious of Yates to feign that he was surprised. “Julie and I have been together for most of the day, as you well know.”

“Well, yes. But I knew you were having some issues and had separated for a bit. I’m pleasantly surprised to see you.”

“I can leave if you want to tell Julie something in complete confidence.”

“No, I’m fine with you knowing everything, as long as Julie doesn’t mind.”

“I don’t even know what it is you’re going to say so how would I know whether to mind at all?”

“It is about your uncle, Carl,” Yates said to her.

“What about him?”

“He passed away earlier today, in Star City,” Yates said.

Julie sat on the couch, silently adjusting to the new reality as she drew a deep breath. She had not been that close to her uncle until after her father died. He was her next of kin. He transferred to Andromeda to live for a few years just so she would not have to be dislocated from her school and all of her friends. At the time she did not realize what a sacrifice that was, but now she did. She respected him after the fact even if she grave him more problems than he deserved while he was her legal guardian.

Her Aunt Lydia divorced Carl a year and a half before he came live with Julie in Andromeda. Lydia had taken nearly everything Carl had, but he had not really protested it. In fact, he saw coming to Andromeda as a chance at a new life. He remained in Andromeda for a year and a half after Julie graduated and started attending college. Then, he was offered something in Star City and he went to take advantage of it. There had been a meeting with him, a lunch at her college. They said goodbye. It felt awkward to Julie, really. It was like Carl was trying to be her father for that one brief moment but he did not quite know how.

“I knew it would be hard for you,” Yates said, his words breaking the silence of her reflection.

“Thank you for the information,” Julie said. “He was a good man.”

“No problem,” Yates said. “I’ll send you the information to your global network account.”

“Thank you,” she said in response.

“There’s it’s sent,” Yates said. “I have another call coming in. Take care.”

The call disconnected.

“You were close?” Chased asked.

“For the last five years of my adolescence he was my surrogate father.”

“We should go to his funeral, then.”

Julie looked away. “There are some other issues, some of them feelings I don’t enjoy revisiting.”

“You didn’t like him?”

“I loved him in my own way,” Julie admitted, the wiped a tear from her eye. “He was an amazing man. There was a time I was being picked-on at school. You know, when you don’t want to be in physical education class because you have to take showers with everyone else.”

“I remember the trauma well.”

“It wasn’t so bad when I was little, but by the time I was in high school and my boobs began growing – all four of them…”

“Yeah four nipples and four balls are a little more discreet.”

She nodded.

“Anyway, he took me out to dinner. We dressed up and he made me feel important, like the differences I had were a good thing. He was the first man other than my father who understood what it felt like.”

“He had the attributes too?”

“Maybe he had them inside, you know?” She paused for several moments, and then drew a deep breath. “There was one night, not too long after that. He’d been out celebrating some contract his company won. He was drunk when he got home. He came into the living room of our apartment and sat down beside me and we watched something together on the entertainment channel. He had his arm around my shoulders the entire time and, for whatever reason, it made me feel secure. Then after the program ended he got up and said he needed to go to bed. But it was like I didn’t want him to leave me lone. I stayed up and watched another show before bed. Then, as I was getting up, I thought of all the pain and suffering Carl endured. He told me about Lydia and how he still loved her. He never cheated on her but she did on him. And somehow he forgave her even though she put him through it with the divorce. I wanted to help him. I wanted him to feel like he was loved. I went into his room and…,” her voice cracked. “I entered his dream. He called my Lydia. I was okay with it because it was his fantasy and yet it was weird. Then after he passed out again I went to my room. In the morning he did not remember anything, other than he had a dream.”

“But it was real for you.”

She nodded.

“That was your first time?”

“Yep. The first time for both the sex and using a gift I knew I had. I know it’s pretty sick, but I was fourteen at the time. Confused and my hormones were on overtime.”

“I understand.”

“At the time it felt right and I thought I was helping him – and maybe it helped me a little too. He lost his brother, my father. Despite his wanting to leave his past anyway he had come to Andromeda to take care of me. I wanted to know what life was about. And I found out.”

“Did he never know?”

“I missed my period that month and the next month. I went to the clinic. I was so embarrassed. They had me there on the examining table, my feet up in the stirrups. It was the first time I had ever been to that kind of doctor. I was terrified and I felt violated, especially when they began to tell me that I possessed the attributes – like I didn’t already know how different I was. They made it sound like I was defective. They ran all sorts of tests and concluded that I was pregnant.”

“Wow!”

“I told them I couldn’t be – knowing how and when it happened, but I meant it couldn’t be allowed, you know? They showed me the proof and had me sign some forms. With women who have the attributes, there’s no required notification or consent with a minor getting an abortion.”

“Because women usually die after giving birth.”

“Yeah. The Colonial Authority never publicizes that, but the procedure isn’t free. I paid them, charged to my uncle’s payment wand account that as a minor I was linked to. I was so frightened and alone in my decision and I was too embarrassed to seek anyone’s advice. I felt horrible for days after that. I had nightmares. I kept thinking about what the child might have been. Then the receipt for the services came from the doctor and my uncle confronted me with it. I told him everything. I could tell it bothered him deeply and he even got up and walked away from me at one point, but then he returned and he opened his arms and held me close, telling me he was sorry and that nothing like that would never happen again.”

Chase looked into her eyes. “Did he live up to that?”

“Chase,” she said then cleared her throat. “Three days after that he tried to kill himself but failed. I was in the hospital with him for 36 hours. He almost succeeded. I took naps in a chair beside his bed. When he came around he was angry with me that I did not let him die. He didn’t want to live with the shame that we made love even if he thought at the time it was a dream and I was Lydia. I told him that it had been my choice not his and that in his drunken state I took advantage of him. I raped him, really. It was all my fault and I respected him as my uncle and I didn’t want anything bad to happen to him.”

“I guess you need to attend his funeral,” Chase said.

“Yeah, I need to be there,” Julie said. “I would like for you to be there with me.”

Chase nodded. “I can make it happen,” he said.

“I would appreciate it,” Julie said as she leaned over and kissed him. “It seems we both have some darkness in our pasts.”

“We would not be human otherwise.”

“Are we human?”

“We’re human enough,” Chase said.

Julie leaned into him where they sat together on the couch. She kissed him and he responded in kind. Before long, and definitely before the end of the show that was on world viewer that they had been ignoring, Chase scooped her up into his arms and carried her to bed. He did everything he could to make her forget, for a while. They spent the night together.

Blog, Books, Editing, life, novel, Publishing, Uncategorized, Writing

Being a Writer in the Modern World

full length of man sitting on floor
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There is something about a bookstore. Maybe it’s the special smell of relatively fresh ink on paper, or just the atmosphere of being surrounded by the worlds of imagination captured between the covers and shelved in row after row, divided by category. A library gives me a similar sensation. I love visiting libraries, too, but usually it is for research. In a bookstore I’m looking for a story and characters to love.

Some of my best memories as a father were reading to my children when they were little with bright eyes and minds filled only with potential. Everything was new to them. Anything was possible. And in a way that is distinctly childlike, they didn’t care whether they had already heard a story. They wanted to experience it again, perhaps something would change. Occasionally, I provided the change and almost immediately one or the other of them would point that out.

I loved taking my children to the bookstore to spend an hour or three perusing the shelves. As they grew older, of course they went off in separate directions in search of something different. It was an exciting place for them and for me.

The Barnes & Noble in Melbourne, Florida was where we usually went, even if we weren’t intending to buy anything – just to look around. Usually, each of us bought something, though. There was a Books-A-Million closer to where we lived, and we frequently stopped there as well, but the B&N always had a different atmosphere. My kids preferred it, and so did I, not to mention that they served coffee.

cup of coffee in distance with red rose
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At the time I had just published my first novel, One Over X. It was listed for sale on B&N’s website as well as Borders and the then upstart Amazon. Like most authors, I would have loved to see the book on the shelves in my store. What’s more, my kids would have loved seeing Daddy’s book added as part of that fantastic world of real, tangible, printed books. But alas, my publisher was a small press out of Connecticut. Even though everything about my first book had been done in a meticulously correct way according to acceptable standards, including have the press run completed at a one of the offset presses the Big-Name publishers use, the fact that I was not with one of the Big Five seemed the impenetrable barrier to getting my novel stocked in the bookstore chains. However, I was successful in getting the book into my local library, and a several others.

When I talked to the local store’s manager, she gave me the conditions for stocking my book, which, as a business person with years of retail experience, seemed summarily ridiculous. I needed to accept all returned, damaged and shop-worn books. It would be stocked briefly, on consignment and contingent only on my direct support with a book signing or a reading. If it sold well, they might reorder. Despite it not being a good deal from my perspective, it was a deal. I did my part and promoted the book with personal events.

As scary as it might seem at first, signings and readings are a lot of fun. I sold a few books and made some friends.  Still, the conditions up front were ludicrous and slanted way in favor of the store. Clearly, they weren’t going to lose any money, and for all the lip service they were giving me about supporting a local author, they had no interest in me making money. Yes, it was discouraging.

Of course, the goal with an author’s first book isn’t about making money, though that would be nice. First books tend to be about gaining an audience of readers who will, hopefully, want to buy an author’s next book and so on.

I had better luck with a couple of small shops. They displayed my book but, again, it was a consignment deal. Even though the book was available through Ingram, a major book distributor with channels worldwide, the store preferred calling me when they needed more inventory. I personally delivered the books. As I kept some inventory at home it wasn’t a huge problem. Still, being the distributor and delivery guy as well as the author limited my efforts to the immediate geographic vicinity.

Interviews on local media and reviews in local papers proved next to impossible. The first question asked was: which publisher are you with? And when it was someone they’d never heard of…We only accept submissions for review from major publishers.

My initial publishing experiences never dissuaded me from writing more books. After all, a writer does not choose whether to write but, instead, what to write. I was convinced that if I continued to write stories that eventually I’d grow a following, one reader at a time. And write I did. All the while I worked a full-time job to support a wife and three children, one of whom was already in high school.

After publishing my second book and having similar experiences with bookstores, I decided to self-publish my next. After all, I was doing everything anyway, I may as well handle the production as well and make more money on each book sold. There was a lot going on my life, though, and the company for which I was working was struggling. Eventually, they would go out of business. They paid me severance but I was unemployed for a little while. Money doesn’t last long. I found a summer job selling cars that lingered into the autumn. All the while I continued looking for something more suited to my background. Every evening I worked on a manuscript that eventually became two books. Around Christmas I landed another job that would see me along for the next few years.

In the background I witnessed the sad, slow decline of large bookstores chains. Amazon was growing its presence in publishing, while making the process of self-publishing easier than ever. B&N, et. al., claimed to support eBooks with their own version of a reader, but they still refused to deal with indie and small press authors whenever it came to stocking books in store. The funny thing is that most books published in the eBook format come from indie authors. Anyway, they treated indies as if our books were inferior, as if they carried the same stigma as vanity-press products of the past. They refused to adapt to the paradigm shift, turning down many good writers in the process.

What sours authors on queries to big publishers is the lunacy of the process. It is designed to dissuade unsolicited submissions. Rarely do the Big Five have open submissions. When any of them do, you can imagine what it’s like when the flood gates are opened. Odds are your manuscript upon which you have worked for perhaps a year or two will be lost in the shuffle.

The usual case for an author to gain approval for even submitting a manuscript is to go through a literary agent that the publisher recognizes. So, along the way I queried several literary agents in my genres. I learned that finding an agent is almost as hard as connecting with a publisher. Even when a manuscript is solicited, it may not be approved. And so, an aspiring author may expect to be out some money and wait forever only to be told his or her book baby is ugly.

Still, I continued to write, because that is what a writer does. By now, my family and friends figured I was insane— you know, the adage about continuing to do the same thing expecting different results? I wrote for at least three and sometimes as many as six hours a day. At times I missed doing things with the family because I was writing or taking a nap after staying up all night to enjoy the peace and quiet of the wee hours, a perfect time to compose.

There comes a time when it should be clear that the world has shifted, or perhaps moved on without giving proper notice. It also happens with businesses and I firmly believe that around the time I quit my last job in management the end began to accelerate for large box bookstores. Though I was determined to make it as an author, I knew that utilizing more time at self-promotion, brand-building and writing was what needed to happen. I never had the time while working 60 hours a week in management, always away from my home computer. And yes, when I quit my last job to devote full-time attention to writing, my family considered this proof positive that I had lost my mind.

It was a perfect time for a change. My kids were grown and moved away. I was divorced. I’d already begun to reduce my expenses. I didn’t have any money saved, but that was all right. I was going to walk a tightrope without a safety net. No, it didn’t work out all that well. I crashed and wound up couch-surfing with relatives, which was not as fun as it sounds. But eventually things turned for the better. I found a small publisher with goals and a vision of community that I share.

books bookshop bookstore business
Photo by Tuur Tisseghem on Pexels.com

As I approach bookstores anew with fresh product, I wish I could say that they have adapted to the changing times.  They still believe in the old system where five or so major publishers decide what everyone should be reading. The same barriers I confronted almost 20 years ago are still there. Meanwhile, some small bookstores have begun welcoming new authors as a means of survival. It still requires a good sales pitch, but at least they are willing to order through a distributor.

Over the past couple of decades as a writer, I’ve learned a lot about the publishing business and I’ve helped other people promote their work. It’s kind of funny, because as the influence of the big publishers over the marketplace wanes, the industry is reverting to the way things were done in the 19th Century. Back then, authors found ways to gain attention, publishing short works in newspapers and magazines. Those who had the funds published their own work, by and large, at least until they garnered a significant following and were able to contract a publisher to do the hard parts (editing, layouts and such) for them. A couple of hundred years ago, authors sold their books directly to the public and made their own deals with bookstores. The only difference today is that with the evolution of publishing technology a lot of the hard parts can be accomplished electronically with much greater ease.

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The Resurrection: Chapter 14 – The Way

**Note: Although the following is part of a previously self-published eBook, portions have been modified. However, it has not been professionally edited and likely contains typos and other errors. It is offered as an example of raw science fiction storytelling.**

Cristina settled into the couch in the living room of their temporary residence above the coffee shop. She was tired and her feet ached. Deciding not to use the public transit system to return was not the best idea, but after Paul’s escape, things had become a little dicey in that section of town. She was glad they had not waited around.

Hoofing it wasn’t the best way to get back to the shop, but it was all they had at the time. Cristina was in heels and despite what they believed was the near proximity of the coffee shop, it was actually two and a half kilometers from the detention center. Alix generously consented to carrying her piggyback for at least half the way.

Once inside the apartment, she took off her shoes, careful not to break the blisters. Alix picked the remote and turned on world viewer to the local news channel. “You can… rest here,” He said breathlessly while sitting on the edge of the couch not wanting to drip too much of his sweat on it. “In the interest…of my smell…not offended you, myself…or anyone else, I’ll…shower first.” The physical exertions of the past couple of hours wore his out.

“Thank you for carrying me,” Cristina said. “You go ahead. I’ll watch the news.”

He smiled. “You should have…brought some…walking shoes…to wear after.”

“Yeah, well next time…”

“Let’s hope…there’s not going…to be next time.” On the world viewer screen, the local media was reporting a possible disturbance at the Security Agency detention center, but there were no details. “So, we made…the news, sort of.”

“Let’s hope it stays ‘sort of’ and they don’t put the pieces together and come after us.” Cristina looked at Alix and smiled. “You were phenomenal.”

“It was more luck…and timing…than anything else, except for…your skills…at distracting…a lot of people.”

“Go shower. I need one too. But you need it worse.” Cristina kissed him on the cheek.

“That’s all…I get for carrying you…” he complained, half seriously as he stood up.

“That was for Paul. You gave him a chance. There’s more to come,” she turned to stretch out her legs on the couch where Alix had been sitting, then stretched her arms.

Alix shrugged. “It still…doesn’t resolve…anything…for Paul.”

She leaned arching her back over the couch arm, then scooted down a bit, sinking into the overstuffed cushions. It was a comfortable couch for relaxing as she watched the unfolding news evolve on the main screen of world viewer. “I’ll thank you for the rest little later,” she promised with a wink. “Speaking of rest. That’s all I want to do right now.”

Alix left her on the couch to shed his clothes and take a shower – making the water as hot as he could stand it. Rivaling one of her twenty-minute sessions, he let the hot water cascade down his neck, shoulders and back, hitting the places, other than his legs that hurt him most. When he finished he dried off, put on some fresh clothes and rejoined Cristina in the living room, half expecting her to be asleep. She was rolled over onto her side, watching the coverage. “So what’s happening, now?” he asked.

“They’re reporting many agents are dead, many more are wounded and now all the prisoners who were inside the detention facility are at large.”

“Including Paul, though.”

“They haven’t mentioned him directly but I’m sure he’ll be a priority for them to recapture.”

“So, what did we accomplish?”

“We still need to fix the cause, but we always knew that,” she said as she sat up.

Alix sat on the end of the coach and leaned back. “I guess I need to figure out where I’m going in space as well as time, then.”

“Where are we going, you mean,” Cristina corrected.

“You cannot go,” Alix said adamantly.

“I have to.”

“No you don’t. It’s too dangerous.”

“How do you expect to communicate with them?”

“I don’t need to. I grab one and bring it back. There’s no communication necessary.”

“What if it doesn’t want to come with you?’

“I doubt it will. It will be an abduction. Add kidnapping an alien to our growing list of crimes. Somehow, I don’t think I’ll ever go to court over that one, though.”

She chuckled.

“At least I made you laugh.”

“You have to. It’s either that or cry, right?”

Alix shrugged.

“Alix, I really have to go with you. You need to accept that.”

“I can’t risk that. I don’t want to lose you.”

“‘So you’re risking your own life instead, without me. What kind of sense does that make?”

“Perfect sense for me.”

“Look, it’s necessary. We’re in this together. Besides, I have obviously traveled with you in the past.”

“Yeah well, that was different.”

“How was it different?”

“You were in immediate danger.”

“We are all in danger, Alix. Don’t you see it? The Colonial Authority is stealing what’s left of our privacy. Our lives are not as important as their purposes for them. They see everything in terms of what’s best for humanity, for everyone not what’s just for the individual.”

“That debate has been going on for a long time, hon.”

“It’ll only get worse. I don’t want to live in a world where I’m a prisoner because I’m different, because don’t agree with what the government is doing or what they want – or what the majority thinks is right. The majority isn’t always right because it’s too easy to mislead people. They’re going to put all of us in jail, sooner or later. When the official real prisons are full, they’ll turn our homes and apartments into our cells, calling it for protective custody, for our safety – for the common good.”

“That still doesn’t tell me anything about why you think it is necessary to go back into the past with me.”

“It has everything to do with it. The whole reason we have to go in the first place is bringing a sand-morph here to expose how this insidious lie began, Alix. The Colonial Authority had great visions for Pravda. After the lies and the cover-up…well, it only gets worse from here. Once we expose what’s going on…”

“What makes you think anyone will listen? They’re happy being numb. They have world viewer to keep them pacified,” he made a sweeping gesture with his arm toward the far wall of the room where the screen array hung. “Nothing much will change just from bringing back a sand-morph. They’ll twist and distort that too, making it somehow favorable to them. They have the power, Cristina. That’s all they want and all they need. They’ll do anything to preserve their power, even if they have to kill us in the process.”

“It depends on how we pitch what we do. You turn their own game against them.”

“I’m listening.”

“The use people like us, Alix. While we make music because it’s what we love doing, they pervert it into something crass and commercial. And we go along because it helps us survive while we make more music.”

“That’s how it works, if you’re one of the lucky ones. We’ve only been doing this for thirteen years, ten for you. We’ve struggled a lot. But it’s the system. Without Chase and the tour, where would we be?  We’d still be playing clubs in New Milan, maybe going to Haven in the summer. Chase changed all that for us.”

“I know, and he can help us change this too. He’s good with selling and marketing. That’s all we need.”

“And they ban our songs.”

“Which only makes our fans want them more and everyone else more curious. It’s how you spin it, Alix. That’s what works for the Colonial Authority, we can do it too.”

“I don’t think this requires a good marketing campaign, hon. It’s way beyond that.”

“Well, it won’t hurt. Anyway, more directly, we don’t know what we’re dealing with in the past. We only know what we say and what we’ve heard. I know I can communicate with the sand-morphs. Paul and everyone else in The Resurrection seem convinced that the sand-morphs were peace-loving.”

“They could be mankind’s worst nightmare.”

“Exactly, you don’t know.”

“Neither do you,” Alix reminded her.

“But I know I can understand them,” she said.

“The dreams,” he said in response.

Cristina nodded. “I’ll make this work. You just need to get me there, where there are living sand-morphs. That’s your part of it.”

“You and I will have to wear breathing filters, the really heavy-duty ones that no one has needed for decades,” Alix said as he leaned forward.

“Understood,” she said. “We might have them somewhere around here.”

Alix nodded. “So when do we do this?”

“Why not now?”

“Don’t you want to take a shower or something first?”

“Yeah, I can do that first.”

“We can rest.”

“Why do you want to put it off?”

“We have time, Cristina. That’s the thing about time travel, you can always go back further.”

She smiled. “I guess you’re right.”

“I know I’m right. Besides, I really have to spend some time figuring all of this out, okay? There are logistical matters, calculations in multiple dimensions and all that–”

“So you need a day or what?”

Alix shrugged. “I can use that antiquated computer we found in the closet, if it still works. Maybe that’ll help. At least it’ll give me a calculator function. Hopefully there is a programming function, if not I’ll have to write a script to do it and connect this online.” He stood up and walked across the room to the closet. “Maybe two or three days at the most, provided this thing works, more time if it doesn’t. Once I’m there, it won’t take long. I’ll already know where we are here and now.”

“That’s too long to wait for this, Alix.”

“Well I don’t have a faster computer.”

“How about Dom?” Cristina suggested.

“Dom, you mean at Raven’s place?”

“Yeah, Dom. He’s a living computer, perhaps even more advanced than anything else we know about.”

Alix smiled. “Well, yeah maybe that’s a course we could pursue.”

“Sure it is,” Cristina said.

“You want to return to Raven’s estate, then?”

“I think we have to,” Cristina said. “He’ll have the breathing filters, for certain.”

“After you shower?”

“I want to get this done before anything happens to either of us. Okay? We’re maybe the only ones who can pull this off. We’re the only hope for many people.”

“The majority, the one you said that can be wrong, they do not realize what we are doing for them.”

“They probably never will. Even if Paul has escaped, it’s just like you said. They’ll eventually recapture him,” she said. “We’re really his only hope. Doing this is the only way to stop The Resurrection’s plans and expose The Colonial Authority’s cover-up.”

With that she stood up from the couch and went into the bathroom to remove the makeup from her face, take a shower, get dressed and return to a more or less normal appearance. It took about a half hour, but when Cristina emerged from her bedroom she was the lady Alix had grown accustomed to seeing off stage and, more so, learned to love these past several days that they had been together.

It turned out to be some kind of weird vacation. If nothing else, he believed it would make him appreciate recording music in a studio, even if he had never completely enjoyed the experience in the past. He had always hated the repetition part of it. He lived for the creative process, whenever the spark occurred. He could not get used to laying down the same bass lines for fifteen to twenty takes before the producer was good with just one of the tracks.

Her transformation fully completed, dressed in some different, less provocative clothing, she applied band aids to her blisters on her feet and put on comfortable walking shoes. Alix waited patiently for her to finally be ready. When she was finished she stood and he kissed her.

“You like me this way?” She asked.

“I like you everyway, but this one is more like the real you.”

“The real me depends on my mood at the moment,” she said with a laugh. “Let’s go.”

“You’re not tired?”

“I took a nap, a short one while you were showering. I still tired, but this is important.”

“We skipped lunch and it’s almost dinner time,” he stated.

“I don’t think we have the luxury of time. Are you hungry?”

“Not especially. I’ll be fine. I was more worried about you.”

“When we’re on tour I sometimes get busy and forget to eat. I have even missed eating for a while day.”

“I know,” Alix said. “We all watched out for you.”

Cristina laughed. “That’s why you ordered a pizza seemingly as a random thought…”

“Of course.”

She shook her head. “What would I ever do without you guys?”

“What would we ever do without you? That was our concern.”

They descended the stairs and said hello to Emma and Arnie as they passed through the kitchen.

“Going out again so soon?” Emma asked.

“We have to go see a friend.”

“Let ‘em be,” Arnie said. “Don’t start treating them like they are our children. You see where that got us. They hardly even see us anymore except for holidays. Only Neville has an excuse. The girls live in this very city!”

“They’re busy too,” Emma defended them.

“They’re too busy to visit any old fuddy-duddies.”

Emma smiled, but decided to refrain from further comment, directing her attention to Alix and Cristina. “You haven’t eaten lunch, though.”

“We’ll eat a big dinner,” Alix said. “We’re going to a friend’s house.”

“I’ll make something for you and leave it upstairs. How’s that?”

“That’d be wonderful,” Cristina said. “But I’m not sure we’ll be back tonight. We may be away for a little while.”

“It wouldn’t be any trouble. It would give me something to do today. It’s been slow what with all the trouble down around the detention facility.”

“It’s okay. We’ll be fine.”

“Isn’t it awful about what’s going on. They say a lot of agents are dead.”

“I hope your brother is okay,” Arnie said.

“Me too,” Cristina admitted.

“We were listening to the news before we came down.”

“It’s awful. Some of those men probably ate in our very shop the other morning.”

“Maybe so,” Cristina said.

“I feel like we may have cursed them,” Arnie said.

“Well, I’ve always believed that people make their own misfortune by the way they choose to live and how they treat others,” Cristina said. “As tragic as it may seem to others, sometimes when people die maybe they deserved it.”

“See, she agrees with me,” Emma said, punctuating it with a wink and a smile projected in Cristina’s direction.

Arnie offered an old fashioned manual key to Alix as he was the one standing nearest to him. It was the type that the outer door lock of the coffee shop still required. “You’ll need it to get inside. It’s one the kids used to use. If you come back after we lock up and go home. Just lock the door back from the inside before you head upstairs for the night.”

Alix looked at the key. He had not seen one since he was a kid but recognized it. “Okay,” he said. “We may be back tonight.”

“If not we’ll lock up anyway,” Emma said.

“Regardless of what happen, at least this way you have the option of coming and going as you please,” Arnie said.

“We really appreciate all of this. You’ve been too good to us,” Cristina said.

“When you get to be our age, honey, you can tell a lot about the quality of people just by talking to them. We knew you needed our help,” Emma explained.

“Well, don’t think we are ungrateful. We will return the favor.”

“We expect nothing,” Arnie said. “We’re happy we can help.”

“Cristina, we probably need to go,” Alix prompted.

She nodded in response.

“We’ll see you later or tomorrow,” Cristina said.

“We’ll be here. This is our life,” Emma said.

Alix and Cristina walked the few blocks to ‘the crosstown’ coach stop, waiting there for only a couple of minutes before a coach arrived to provide them a lift. As Alix and Cristina settled in beside one another in the bench seat they looked around the fairly crowded coach.

“I’ll watch for our stop this time,” Alix said.

Cristina nodded, and then leaned into him and kissed his cheek.

Alix glanced down at his hands. There was a hangnail on his right index finger that was bothering him so he gnawed at it until he clipped it loose with his teeth. Then he checked his other nails just to be sure.

“You chew your nails?”

“Not usually,” Alix responded.

“I hadn’t noticed you doing it before.”

“It bothers you?”

“Yeah, a little.”

“I don’t always carry nail clippers.”

“I do.”

“Maybe most women do.”

“I wouldn’t generalize,” Cristina said.

Alix leaned back, folding his arms across his chest in the classic, insecure, defensive position.

“I’ve made you self-conscious.”

“Of course.”

“That was never my intention.”

“Do you watch my every action and scrutinize it?”

“Of course not,” Cristina said, and then she chuckled, “No one could endure such a challenge.”

Alix looked up at the display and map. “Five more exits,” he said.

“You can be so amazingly focused at times,” Cristina said.

“It’s a gift, I guess,” Alix said. “One of several.”

“Are you worried?”

“About what we are doing or that maybe it’s never been done?”

“I guess a little of both.”

Alix shrugged. “We have to do it so I’m just sort of accepting that we have to make it work, I guess.”

“What if you can’t do it?”

“I hope I fail immediately because halfway through would be upsetting.”

Cristina looked at him, receiving a smile from him it response.

“Look, it will be what it is. Whether this is possible or not, there’s absolutely nothing either of us can do anything about. We can only do what we can do.”

Cristina kissed him on the cheek again, but then lingered close to him. “We have to do it for Paul and everyone else.”

“We are working on that,” Alix said. “If we can we will.”

“I feel so helpless.”

“It’s because you are relying on me instead of yourself and I’m not exuding confidence.”

“I know I can count on you whenever you commit to me to do anything but you’re right. The uncertainty has been the source of my recent apprehension and frustration.”

“I can only do what I can do,” Alix said. “I think I can make it work. I’ll not lie to you. This will be extreme as challenges go. That’s why we need exact coordinates.”

“Which Dom can provide.”

“I hope he will.”

“He has to,” Cristina said. “He’ll do it as a favor for me.”

Alix chuckled.

“What’s so funny?”

“An android is smitten by your beauty and stunning physical presence.”

“I don’t think that’s what it is.”

“Then tell me what it is,” Alix said.

“I don’t know what it is,” she said.

“Next stop is ours, by the way.”

She nodded and began her preparations for the impending exit.

When they had exited the coach, it was as they had expected, the coach for ‘the hills’ route was already approaching the stop, minimizing their wait, just as it always had. They boarded into a relatively empty coach. In fact there were only two other people aboard and they exited at the third exit leaving Alix and Cristina alone.

At the seventh exit they stepped off the coach and the headed up the hill toward Raven’s estate. When they arrived on the front porch, Cristina reached up and tugged on the rope to ring the bell. They waited for several moments – beyond a minute and then, finally the door opened. Dom might have seemed glad to see them except his face did not so readily belie any emotion.

“We need your help,” Cristina prefaced.

“You’re seeking my help or the Master’s?”

“Your help, Dom,” Alix said.

“I’m flattered you think I might be of some service.”

“It’s something we feel you’d be particularly good at,” Cristina said.

“We need to go back in time, physically – both of us. About 80 years.” Alix said. “That requires us to know spatial coordinates as well as temporal aspects.”

“Of course,” Dom said seeming to indicate expertise without further elaborating, and then opened the door wider. “Please come in. Just do not disturb the Master. We will go to my working room.”

They followed the DOMLIB down the corridor to the back of the main floor of the estate. There was a small room by human standards, but perhaps perfectly accommodating for Dom, including an array of display screens that were tied into the house’s main computer system as well as the resources of the Colonial Authority.

“Please be seated,” Dom gestured to the four chairs at the worktable, he sat in one, while Cristina and Alix settled into two of the others.

“We’ll be leaving as soon as we know where we’re going and what we’re doing.”

“How is it you know where you want to go?” Dom asked.

“We were practicing with our orbs and brought them close together. We first saw our star system as if we were approaching it from space and then we were in a dark cavern and there we saw a sand-morph. Since there are none in the present world, it had to be in the past, before the world was sterilized.”

“That seems a logical deduction,” Dom said, then added. “Of course, it depends on whether your premise is valid.”

“You mean there may be sand-morphs that survived?”

“It would think it’s almost axiomatic,” Dom said. “Just not in this world.”

Alix’s mind raced as he tried to grasp what Dom so casually revealed as a potential. “There could be other sand-morphs on other planets.”

“Your assumption was they’re indigenous. This planet was far too young to have evolved their live form at the time of terraforming. It is one of the reasons for the oversight.”

“They were colonists like us,” Cristina said.

“That is  the most likely conclusion from all the evidence of which I am aware,” Dom said.

“Wow!” Alix expressed the only word he found in his vocabulary to encompass the sum total of how much Dom has just expanded his range of thought.

“I do not have sufficient resources or information to make a definitive determination,” Dom said. “The Master and I’ve discussed it previously. He also tends to agree with the likelihood. It is possible and therefore should be considered in any sort of analysis.”

When Alix emerged from the depths of thought, he looked first to Cristina and then to Dom. “I don’t even know the exact date of the initiation of the sterilization process,” Alix said. “I only know it was in the 2120’s”

“September 9, 2124,” Dom said.

“Then a point in time before that would be good, let’s say September 4, 2124.”

Dom seemed to be completely occupied for several moments. At the conclusion he looked at Alix. “I have the coordinates plotted.” From Dom’s eyes a holographic projection of the immediate star system issued. Overlaid upon it Dom cast the temporal coordinates as well as the spatial coordinates. “I have archived them and printed a copy to your portagraph.

Alix hastily accessed the device he wore on his wrist and usually only used as a chronometer. “Got it.”

“Is that what we needed?” Cristina asked.

“Yeah, well I suppose we should know where to return.”

Dom removed the overlay and pinpointed the present and sent that information to Alix’s device as well. When Alix finished studying the information. Dom closed is eyes and, immediately, the projection terminated. “You will need full mask filters for your journey. There is a pair of operable ones in the front closet in the foyer. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have other things to attend to for the Master.”

Cristina stood along with the DOMLIB and pressed her hand to Dom’s chest halting him. Then she kissed him on the cheek.

Dom seemed startled but appeared to smile ever so slightly.

“So, now we have everything we need?” Cristina followed Alix and Dom to the front entry. There, Alix opened the closet and found the masks they would need.

“They coordinates are for the cavern where the sand-morph’s were discovered,” Dom explained as he opened the front door to allow them outside.”

“And the return coordinates are here?” Cristina asked. She stepped out onto the front porch to join Alix.

“On this front porch, yes,” Dom replied.

“Thank you, again.”

“You’re welcome,” Dom said as he closed Raven’s front door behind them.

“I know where we are and where we’re going. I just hope there’s a sand-morph nearby.”

“There has to be.”

“It is a huge world.”

“Well, let’s hope for the best. At least we know where to look for them,” she said as donned the mask. Once it was properly fitted she checked as Alix did the same. In each of their hands they allowed their orbs to appear and they brought them closer together. In the balance they created a window into another world, a previous era and set of circumstances. Alix grasped her free hand and in the next instant there was a brief but brilliant eruption of white light. They stepped through and were where they were a moments before.

 

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The Resurrection: Chapter 13 – Invitation

**Note: Although the following is part of a previously self-published eBook, portions have been modified. However, it has not been professionally edited and likely contains typos and other errors. It is offered as an example of raw science fiction storytelling.**

Julie stopped just outside the door and waited for Chase to finish his brief conversation with Neville. She thought the visit went very well. Chase seemed to be a little more at ease with the new reality. Toward the end of their visit Chase’s mother had told a couple of anecdotes about Chase’s father, embarrassing things that, of course, his father never told him. Although he was skeptical at first that the woman in front of him was his mother, now he seemed to accept it. Maybe he wanted it to be true and did not want to pursue the matter any further or he was like her in that he could feel the truth.

Julie did not want to participate directly in the conversation Chase and Neville were having. The subject bothered her, and she could not wait to get Chase away from Neville so they could discuss it in private.

Neville was an atypical administrator. He had his own agenda, but he was also a caring human, not a bureaucrat. Still, he was attempting to enlist Chase’s aid in his plans. She was worried The Twenty-Four would end up in a controlled environment for study just like their mothers. Then an even worse thought occurred to her. What if the Colonial Authority was courting their cooperation to gain access to the offspring of The Twenty-Four? What were they up to – planning to keep them all separated and under scrutiny for all their lives?

The same, cold clear logic about researching The Twelve could be bent and twisted to fit any aim the Colonial Authority deemed was in the common interest for the general good. They had already invaded her privacy and all but destroyed her relationship with Chase. Really, she wanted to have as little as possible to do with the Colonial Authority but thus far they were been relentless and pervasive.

Chase finally glanced in her direction and noted she was impatiently motioning for him to hurry along. He offered some closing remark and his hand to Neville who accepted both but he followed Chase for a few more steps, finishing up whatever it was he felt was most important. Then as he and Chase reached Julie’s earshot, he raised a hand to wave and say goodbye to them both before turning back and reentering the security entrance.

“You seem to have hit it off surprising well,” Julie said as Chase approached the coach.

“He’s a nice enough sort. He says he grew up in Star City.”

“Really.”

“Yeah his folks owned a small cafe. As a kid he and his family lived in an apartment above it. He’s just like anyone else, except he’s not a stuffy bureaucrat, and he has the attributes.”

“Really?”

“It’s not common knowledge. He’s a generation behind us, of course. He has the traits not the outwardly physical things, you know…”

“Yes, I know. And he just told you this?”

“No, I picked it up from shaking hands. Anyway, that’s why he’s sympathetic to us and our situation.”

“Why didn’t I get that from him?” Julie asked.

Chase shrugged. “Maybe you weren’t open to it. I don’t know. He invited us to dinner with his wife.”

“You didn’t accept.”

“I said I’d ask and it’d be up to you,” he said as they boarded the coach.

“Maybe it’s not wise to get too friendly with Neville,” Julie said.

“I thought you were the one who was all about cooperating with the authorities,” Chase countered as he pulled away from the curb and headed toward the perimeter gate. They paused there, opening their doors for the required inspection of the coach before the gate was opened for them to exit the compound.

“There’s a difference between providing information and becoming close friends,” Julie said once they were beyond the gate.

“What about Yates?”

“He was friends with my father,” Julie said. “He’s trying to help us out but that’s as far as my friendship with him would ever go. I wouldn’t go to his house or become friends with his wife.”

“Well, I don’t think it hurts anything to know these people as real people. Maybe that is the entire problem. We are different and that frightens most people because they don’t understand us. He’s different because he has some of our traits. Maybe he’s like a bridge.”

“He wants you to go with him to Star City,” Julie said.

“You caught that.”

“How could I not?”

“He thinks Paul might listen to me. The good news is the Colonial Authority doesn’t want to kill Paul. It’s just that after what he did…well, they can’t exactly just let it slide. They even allowed his mother to go there to see him.”

“I heard something about that. It was a failure. He wouldn’t listen to his mother, so, what hope do you have?”

“That is what I said, but Neville seems to think Paul would listen to someone like me, someone he knows, as opposed to a mother he never really knew.”

“Why not just find Cristina?” Julie asked.

“Cristina and Alix really have disappeared.”

“There have been no ID scans or payment wand transactions since here, except for one set of ID scans that does not make any sense because they happened in Star City a couple of days before they left here.”

“Someone stole their identities?” Chase suggested.

“Well, that is what Yates thinks but no one is sure. He thinks the reason they have not been found may be related to someone else using their IDs. But he’s not sure. I’m not so sure, though. It could have been them.”

“How? They were here with us.”

“Remember how they were practicing with the orbs and they saw a living sand-morph?”

“Yeah.” Julie looked at him.

“Cristina believed they were seeing back through time.”

“But it has been over eighty years since…well, since there were any sand-morphs.”

“When I was getting ready to take them the railcar station, the agents stormed the front door of your apartment. I couldn’t see everything. It happened pretty damned fast. Cristina and Alix were taken away. They could not have escaped but they did. Somehow they did.”

“Perhaps Alix can shift from one place to another,” Julie said. “Maybe that is his ability.”

“That isn’t his only ability. He causes things to ignite.”

“Catch fire?” Julie sought confirmation.

“When he thought I was flirting with Cristina he lit my hair on fire.”

Julie laughed.

“I’m glad that amuses you.”

“No, it is just the visual it brought to mind. I’m sure it was scary.”

“All that time I thought he wasn’t practicing with his orb but he was.”

“Maybe those aren’t his only abilities,” Julie suggested. “We all can do a number of things. What if he can ‘shift’ as you say but not only from one place to another but also from one time to another?”

“Okay, okay. That’s interesting. What if they didn’t go anywhere else but went back in time, a day or maybe more and ended up in Star City well before they were even supposed to leave here.”

“But why hasn’t there been any trace of them in Star City since? Anytime they get on or off a bus they would have a payment wand record.”

“Star City has free mass transit,” Chase said.

“That’s right,” Julie said. “So they could have spent all day in the city without being tracked. But they would have to eat…”

“Not if they went to see Raven and he put them up for a few nights.”

“Okay. What about since then? The authorities have been looking for them everywhere, since the afternoon that they disappeared.”

Chase cleared his throat. He was about to divulge a secret and was having some second thoughts in that Julie had sold out to the authorities. Then again he had cooperated as well, but mainly because she betrayed him and whatever he had to say was minor in comparison and mostly only confirmed what she had already told them.

“You know something. You won’t tell me because you don’t want Yates and the authorities to know. They may already know everything we have said to each other.”

“It wouldn’t matter but this coach is clean. It had six hidden devices in it when my friend scanned it. He neutralized all of them.”

“So it is safe?”

“Well, they might have put more bugs on it since, I suppose. But I don’t see why they would. Everything still works, it’s just he applied the zipper to the audio bugs.”

“The zipper?”

“It’s what they call it, like ‘zipping your lip’. It creates an inversion field corresponding to microphone patterns. They used to use it ages to control analog feedback from the monitors in concerts before everything went digital and wireless.”

“Okay. I think I understood most of that.”

“The microphones still show that they are present and they even show the authorities where we are. But none of the bugs can pick up our voices because the zipper cancels out the microphone’s pick-up pattern.

“So, as far as they know we are just being very quiet.”

“Exactly.”

“Won’t they get suspicious that we aren’t talking?”

“Yeah, but, well, we haven’t been together much and as for my coach, I don’t exactly talk to myself when I’m driving to and from work.”

Julie shook her head. “You know someone who can do that, the zipper thing?”

“Julie, I am not a saint. Okay? I even told you that when we first met. I got into trouble a lot when I was growing up. As a result, I know people who know people who can make anything happen for enough laundered payment wand credits. I even know some people who electronically launder the payment wand credits. In this case, though, the guy’s someone I grew up with who went legit. He’d an audio engineer. They use zippers when they are doing live recordings. That’s the only reason the Security Agency allows them to exist. There’s a modification you have to do to the device to get it to jam bugs, but it’s effective, once it’s tuned in properly.”

“Don’t you think that since the authorities have been following us for all our lives, they also know who these people are and where to find them.”

“The authorities know anyway, Julie. Don’t be naïve. There’re ways around everything if you have the right set of connections. There are honest agents and crooked agents everywhere.”

“Why haven’t you ever told me this? I mean, I figured from what you said you had a brush or two and then learned your lesson.”

“I learned my lesson alright but I also still know the system and have my contacts. One of the reasons my father moved us here was to get away from the people that I associated with but then there were plenty of the same sort of people to connect with here. He even sent me to Haven to live with my uncle and aunt for a summer in hopes of changing my course. I suppose it worked to an extent. When I returned I had a new outlook on things and I was a little more focused on the positive things. In fact, until this crap started to happen, I’ve not been in contact with any of my cohorts since before I went to college.”

“After college you had that job in advertising.”

“Yep, I did a flyer for a band that worked well and that got me an interview with Global Star. I had a good job that led to a better job and now I am about ready to be given a great job.”

“Somewhere in all of that you met me.”

“And when I met you it just reinforced that I was on the right course. I had no reason to want to go back to the crazy life that I led before.”

Julie sat silently digesting all the details that never before had Chase shared with her. She wasn’t sure that any of it mattered more than filling in the details about him. Since she met him, he was predictable and dedicated to his work. His darker past troubled her but in another way that might be exactly the sort of background he would need if what she was beginning to suspect eventually came to fruition.

Chase glanced over at her, wondering about the silence lingering between them for the past few minutes. “It matters to you, that I was a punk?”

“I don’t know, Chase. You aren’t that way anymore. I know that. It’s not like I was a saint either.”

“You never got into trouble with the authorities.”

“No, I didn’t,” Julie said. “I was willful and headstrong, though. I was defiant and belligerent. Whenever anyone challenged me I fought. It was never with anyone outside of my father and uncle.

“We each have a past,” Chase said. “What’s important is we learned from it and left it behind.”

Julie reached her hand over to lightly touch the back of his. “I miss having you around.”

“I miss you too,” he admitted what she already knew.

“Why are we not together?”

“Maybe each of us did some stupid things, said things we wish we could retract – even what we felt at the time but now the relationship we had is more important than anything that has come between us.”