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The Resurrection: Chapter 24 – Something for All

**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.**

After lunch, Arnie and Alix went in the supply coach to buy more grout, some crushed limestone and pea gravel for Staash. The variety delighted the Sakum’mal. Hw washed it down with a gallon and a half of water. Still, Cristina was gravely concerned for the sand-morph’s health. The relatively dry environment of humans was extremely bad for him.

Alix picked up a humidifier while they were out and positioned it near to Staash. He said it helped but Alix doubted it was enough humanity. Staash loved the dampness found in musty caves, something no human dwelling could imitate for long without producing mildew that was harmful for humans. It made him wonder how the two species could really ever share the world, which was Cristina’s overall goal.

Arnie went back to the house to fetch everyone to share the dinner Emma had spent most of the afternoon preparing, a roast with assorted vegetables and fruit and garden salad. Afterward, Everyone else bused their tables, while Arnie and Alix swept the floors. Chase and Neville mopped them. All four of them wiped down the tables and made everything in the front room nice and clean for Emma and Arnie in the morning.

The ladies rinsed the pots, pans, dishes cups, saucers, bowls, glasses and flatware before loading it into the dishwasher to be sterilized to the city code. Emma added detergent, programmed the timer and activated the machine. While the dishes were washing, they cleaned, swept and mopped the kitchen, wiped down the counters and, in the end, helped the men carry out the trash to load it into the matter reactor to be converted into energy and stored in the batteries to supplement the energy needs of the building.

When the dishes were finished, everyone put them away. Then both Emma and Arnie thanked everyone or their kind, considerate help.  After saying goodbye to Cristina and Alix, Arnie took everyone but Emma home in the supply coach. Emma stayed after for a few minutes to get the place ready for the next day’s business before she took her private coach home for the night.

Alix ensured everything was locked up while Cristina joined Staash upstairs. When he had shut off all the lights downstairs, Alix joined them. The Sakum’mal was sitting on the end of the couch, staring blankly off into space while Cristina was taking a shower. The world viewer was switched off, so he did not even have that to focus on. It seemed very strange. It did not seem normal even for what little they understood about one another.

“Are you okay?” Alix asked him.

“What difference?”

“What do you mean?”

“Here or not, what difference?” Staash attempted to clarify.

“We care about you,” Alix said. “Otherwise we would have never brought you here.”

“Caring made separate my kind. Now, last Sakum’mal survivor. All colonies dead. Staash not belong here. Nice and polite friends, Staash perform. They thank me. Nice, but Staash different. Never be human. Not want different. Alix never Sakum’mal. Not wait either.”

“You’re here to foster better understanding.”

“What point? Sakum’malien dead. All dead.”

Cristina emerged form the shower with a towel wrapped around her. Having overheard the last part of the conversation she was emotionally touch, wiping a tear away with the back of her hand.

Alix looked at Cristina who seemed to have nothing immediately ready to say. Then he spoke. “I can fix some of that, you know.”

“Staash appreciate effort.”

“Then what’s the issue?” Alix asked.

Staash stared at Alix for several moments then, Alix not Staash looked away.

“Okay, I get it,” Alix broke the silence. “There has to be a better answer, a greater solution that allows everyone who died eighty years ago to live and produce offspring. Even you could have some children and grandchildren by now.”

“Produce children not necessity for Staash,” he said. “Other Sakum’malien vital to peace and existence. Sakum’malien social more than humans. Hermit concept only human. Barely understand. Exile worse than death, friends and family forever away.”

“They did that to you and yet you want to go back?”

Staash lowered his eyes. “You are friend but not Sakum’mal. Cristina speaks language. but not Sakum’mal.”

“We love and respect you,” Cristina said. “I admire your gift of poetry.”

“Sakum’malien no think Staash poetry special.”

“Be that as it may, it was amazing to me,” she said.

“You liked it that much?”

Cristina responded with a smile.

“Arnie did too. Emma, Neville and Mary were very impressed. Chase and Julie cried, too – same as me. Everyone was entertained,” Cristina said.

“Staash thanks all. Feel appreciation. Not what Staash really need.”

“Did the Sakum’malien ever appreciate your poetry?” Alix asked.

“My kind, have hope. Always hope.”

Alix nodded. “I can take you back there, anywhere, anytime you want, even before you ever met us. Between Cristina and me, I think we can make it so you’ll never remember any of this or even know in five days you and everyone else will die.”

“Staash prefer know. Told others. Not believe. Staash outsider, different…”

“You would die, too,” Alix said. “Same as it was before Cristina and I came and met you.”

Staash slowly nodded his head. He knew that sobering assessment was correct. He hung his head and after a time he began to sob after his fashion, feeling sorry for himself and his plight.

Alix looked to Cristina for some brave words of encouragement but she was as tapped out as he. Staash’s situation touched them both in a way they could never think of subjecting him to his original fate.

Suddenly Staash looked up, appearing inspired. “Cristina come warn everyone. Make message credible now.”

Cristina looked toward Alix and shrugged. Certainly it was a thought that had occurred to them before and they attempted it, but maybe Staash knew something they did not about communicating to the masses of his kind. If such a thing were possible it made a good deal of sense. Of course, Cristina would be the logical one. She understood and spoke some of Staash’s language. But she would need Alix to go there and return.

There was the lingering question that haunted them before, what sort of world would they return to if the Sakum’malien survived the sterilization of the planet?

“We need to think this through,” Cristina said in response to Staash’s cold, seemingly emotionless stare.

“What point parading Staash?” the Sakum’mal asked. “Only one here now, ever! No other come. Resurrection dead ones pointless.”

“If we return him and help him prove to the others…” Alix began.

“They wouldn’t listen before. What if they won’t listen at all, ever?”

“They have to,” Alix said.

Cristina went into the kitchen and poured a glass of cold water from the pitcher in the refrigerator. “I need to learn Sakum’malien,” Cristina said before sipping from the glass. After downing the entire glass she continued, “I need to be fluent in it to deliver a message.”

Staash stood, coming toward her, his eyes pierced her soul as he said, “We start right now, then.”

Cristina pursed her lips. “I do not learn as quickly as you do.”

“Begin now, finish sooner,” Staash replied eagerly.

“Unlike you I cannot speak with multiple, simultaneous voices. As you already appreciate, your language is more like what we call music. But each of you is like a small choir. Do you understand?”

“Much Sakum’malien pretty only, meaning little. Leaders speak, nice sound, empty.”

Alix laughed. “Politicians are the same, regardless of the species.”

Cristina smiled. “So I don’t have to sound exactly like you.”

“Close enough good.”

“Even so there is another element that I cannot even begin to express. In order to even attempt to speak it I would have to have several instruments covering the tones I cannot reach with my vocal range alone.”

“We need the band, then,” Alix said.

“I thought about that before. I cannot begin to fathom how to reproduce it though, something that is so natural to Staash that he ignores like we use articles in speech to make the metering flow properly in the cadence of our speech.”

“He usually ignores them in his English.”

“He knows they serve not purpose to the meaning and our metering is as alien to him as our words – more so actually. Sakum’malien has a different rhythm.”

“I would have to make several trips and frankly taking you there was enough but bringing you and Staash back wore me out.”

“I know,” Cristina sympathized.

“It’s maybe possible to take everyone there, but all our equipment? Besides that, how would we power everything?”

“It would be unfathomably complicated,” Cristina agreed.

“We could record our band performing the instrumentals and vocals,” Alix suggested, and then responded in kind to the smile that brightened Cristina’s face. “Use overdubs on the vocals so that all you need to do is sing the last part as the lead.”

“Okay, then nothing really changes all that much. We go to New Milan, just as we planned. Except, instead of parading Staash around for a media circus–”

“That the Colonial Authority would probably discredit anyway,” Alix interjected.

“Yes, well Staash can help me write the music to approximate the voices that I need to communicate the warning to the Sakum’malien. When the band has recorded it we take the recording and a portable player with us when we return to Staash’s home.”

“It’s a great plan,” Alix approved.

“If we succeed,” Cristina began, but then paused for a long, thoughtful time.

“Does that change our lives?” Alix asked the question she could not immediately answer and did not want to contemplate.

After several lingering moments she finally responded. “The real question is when we come back will the world be different?” She finally found the nerve to express her greatest personal reservation. “ If what we do is important enough, what happens to us doesn’t matter.”

Alix looked into her eyes, “If I’m with you nothing will change. What is shared now between us, that’s inviolate.”

“Are you sure?’

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Alix said. “We’re connected by our souls. How can it be different than it is. Just the situation changes, you know?”

“I don’t want to lose you,” Cristina said.

“I would die before I let you get away,” he said to her. “As for everything else, who knows? I suppose it’ll depend on how many of the Sakum’malien listen and survive the sterilization.”

Staash did not understand every word that Alix and Cristina were exchanging but just enough. “You take me back, now?” Staash requested asked.

“Not yet,” Cristina said. “Alix can take you back anytime and it can be just like you never left if that’s what you prefer. So that’s not an issue.”

“Others see Staash away. Then return. Otherwise no one believes.”

Cristina nodded, conceding the point.

“You and I have a song to write, a message to the Sakum’malien warning them of the impending disaster. Then we will teach the music to our band so we can record the music, making it sound as close as possible to what your language sounds like.”

Staash understood but also held out some reservation because there were parts of the language that could not be reproduced in any way by a human, as they exceeded the spectrum that a human could perceive. They would have to address that if it turned out to be necessary. It was a common enough element of their language but sometimes the same or very similar messages could be delivered without the use of the higher forms.

Regardless of the challenges ahead, Staash was eager to begin. He immediately went to the table and sat down, waving Cristina over toward him. “Learn everything Sakum’malien,” he said.

“I want to but what I need right now is to learn a message to give to those you left behind.”

Staash nodded. “Human speak but speak not with words alone. Body talks as well.”

“Of course. Most of what we say to one another is through observation of gestures and what we even call body language.”

“Sakum’malien and human not so different,” Staash revealed, then focusing on her eyes he linked to her telepathically. “In mass communication, the physical element is added. Mathematics is part of this, positioning and angles of bodies speak volumes to the masses that observe, even to the point that the message is very different than what others that do not perceive the fullness of the expression can never know.”

Cristina stared at him even as her mind raced with the possibilities of what he had just revealed. She tried to fathom how it was possible, but then, Staash turned toward her and uttered a simple phrase in his language, a phrase that involved the entire spectrum of expression for him. Suddenly she understood how the language fit together into one complete form of expression. It was compact and ingenuously simple. Her real challenge was figuring out how to record a message of the same clarity and delivering it with the same impact.

 

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The Resurrection: Chapter 23 – Showtime

**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.**

Each of them sat at tables arranged in a semicircle creating a makeshift stage. Everyone enjoyed the breakfast Emma prepared while waiting for Staash’s promised performance.

Amazed and speechless, the humans sat in awe of the Sakum’mal as he recited an epic poem in his native language that recounted the history of his kind, though the meaning of the poem was lost on the listeners – except for Cristina and Alix.

Alix held Cristina’s hand. Both of them were moved to tears as Alix received some of the poem’s meaning from his connection with her. No one could tear his or her eyes from Staash as his voice lilted and flowed, as if her were singing in five distinct harmonious voices. He spoke of the legends and lore he was taught when he was very young. Then, when he finished, Cristina prompted for him to recite one of his poems.

The intense beauty of his native language captivated the listeners’ souls even if none of them except for Cristina understood anything he was saying. To her it was a revelation, spawning an epiphany about the construction of complicated musical progressions that blended fundamental tones and harmonics beginning and ending at the same time but within were allowed to evolve counter-rhythmically along many tangents. Even as she listened to the multiple layers of beautiful expression, ideas came for how to employ what she was learning, how to invent and create something new, something never before attempted – something she was certain Duae Lunae could perform.

Abruptly, to the mutual disappointment of all, Staash’s presentation ended. He turned to look toward Cristina who was still sitting at the nearest table beside him with her eyes closed, not wanting to permit any distraction that might prevent her capturing every part of the intricate tapestry of the alien’s multiple voices. Alix released her hand and stood. Then stepping forward he clapped his hands, prompting everyone else to do the same.

Staash frowned with his incomprehension of the need for clapping hands.

“It’s called applause,” Alix said as he approached. “You have seen it in the response of the crowd in the videos you watched.”

“Ah,” Staash said. “Wondered why? At times clapping matched the rhythm of the music but at other times it seemed to progress on its own unaccompanied until music began anew. Staash believed it was part of music, the crowd made own part of music.”

“What an interesting perspective!” Chase exclaimed. “Yes, the live performance of music is always different than a studio recording. There is always a level of excitement that is missing from something recorded live.”

“The audience shows their connection with the music and at the end, the random clapping and cheering expresses their gratitude for the performance. That is why I am clapping, now.” Alix repeated his clapping, as did everyone else. “As a performer you are expected to bow, like this,” he demonstrated. Staash immediately complied even as everyone else in the coffee shop stood, continuing to applaud.

“That was wonderful,” Emma said. “When you speak it is like a choir of voices singing in harmonic perfection.”

“I’m grateful for privilege sharing and receive appreciation,” Staash replied.

“It was quite good,” Neville confirmed. “I do not begin to fathom the meaning but the way it sounded was intensely beautiful.”

“Thank you so much,” Staash said, still rigidly adhering to what he understood was proper.

Cristina opened her eyes, her broad smile likewise revealing how much she appreciated what she had heard. She stood to embrace Staash as best she could as his bulk provided a huge challenge for her to wrap her arm around. “I loved it so much my words fail to begin expressing my emotions,” she said low enough so that only he could hear. “I understood it.”

“Staash is glad. Relieved you liked it.”

Immediately Neville, Mary, Chase and Julie surrounded them, patting Staash on the back which he had learned from observation of world viewer was a physically expressed compliment that was even possibly beyond a handshake but not as good as a hand shake along with a pat on the back. Then he received handshakes from Emma and Arnie who also took time to express their verbal emotional commentary on the experience his recitation evoked.

When everyone else stepped away and returned the tables in the coffee shop to the usual places and, having finished the breakfasts Emma prepared, they bused their tables. Aix took care of Cristina’s plates and cups, leaving her behind. She stared into Staash’s eyes so intensely that it made him wonder what was going on inside her mind. Still, she blocked his access.

“I want to write music like your poetry,” Cristina finally said.

“Staash teach you,” he offered.

“Really?”

“It not hard. Foundation of language you have. Rest is fun.”

“I understand its utilization of fundamental and harmonic tones. The breakdown for me seems to come from understanding how the message is conveyed. Your language has words but they are of lesser importance than the conveyance of the underlying tone of the message.”

“From limited time here, I observe utter dependence on words in your languages. Misunderstanding between people it causes,” Staash said.

“I think you’re right,” Cristina said. “Music transcends language, even for us. Music is a language humans have in common despite culture or their different words. Music may differ culturally but still it’s always music.”

“For Sakum’malien no distinction. Language and music is same. There is more, also – mathematics, you call it. All is integrated language universal. You understand?”

Cristina returned her chair to the table where she sat for Staash’s recitation. “I have a lot of questions about how your language works, but unfortunately, I don’t know where to begin to ask.”

“Other way, better way. Same with Sakum’malien – always better direct link. Uttered language for mass communication and entertainment, nothing more.”

Cristina smiled. “I need a lot of help, I’m afraid.”

Staash laughed after his own gurgling fashion. “Here Staash outsider – alone, odd entity. Product of race existing elsewhere but this world colony dead.”

“Surely your world knows by now others know the colony here is gone. It was eighty years ago.”

Staash nodded his understanding of the time interval.

“How would they react?”

“Despair. Beyond. Not sure what they do.”

“Would they retaliate?”

“Depends how received news. Might see pathetic misunderstanding. Sakum’malien nature not violent. They grieve loss. Every life cherished. Some want punish guilty, warding off  adventurous expansions to our territories.”

“What if it was possible for those who were preserved to be resurrected?”

“Staash puzzled over resurrection you discussed. All were lost. Some bodies well-preserved,” Staash said. “Sakum’malien are dead. Nothing changes dead. Living again, would be infant if spirit comes present. Infant knows nothing, not Sakum’malien ways.”

“You’re sure?”

“Dead is dead,” Staash said. “Body contains spirit only. Unless human know ways returning spirit once departed.”

“Paul, my brother believes it’s possible.”

Staash shook his head. “Humans and their technologies no secret humans know restoring life to dead. Better to go back. Warn colony enclaves disaster coming,” Staash suggested. “Maybe, message persuasive enough, coming from voice not mine, someone learn ways like you wanting understanding Sakum’malien life and language.”

Cristina smiled. “That was what I’d hoped you did for your colony.”

“Listening they would be still live now,” Staash said. “Nothing change, but Staash here. Doubt they live undetected all eighty years.”

“So, Arnie needs to open the front door,” Alix interrupted. “Chase and Julie are going with Neville and Mary to crash at Arnie and Emma’s house. Maybe we take this upstairs.”

“Yeah you’re right,” Cristina said, taking Alix’s hand they followed Staash back upstairs. “Staash and I have been having a very interesting conversation. He thinks the objectives of The Resurrection will ultimately fail. Even if they are able to bring a Sakum’mal back from the dead, he or she will have no memories.”

Alix nodded, as she closed the door of their apartment behind them. “I’ve been thinking about the plans they had, what I know of them, anyway. I’m beginning to understand why Paul was trying to recruit Chase and you. His ultimate goal was to find all The Twenty-Four.”

“Why?”

“In almost every way that I can tell, each of us we are the same, just we have slight differences in our abilities. It goes well beyond the mere distinction of gender that makes us unique in that way. You have empathetic and telepathic abilities. I can slip through space and time and even cause things to ignite from a distance.”

“Chase has telekinesis. Julie can become invisible.”

“Really?”

Cristina nodded. “I’m not sure what other talents they have.”

“We discover our differences through experience and practice. The orbs seem to enhance that. What would it be like if the abilities of every one of us, each of The Twenty-Four could work in concert and harmony in order to achieve a common goal? I think that was what Paul wanted to do.”

Cristina tilted her head to one side.

“It’s obvious, isn’t it? We cannot accomplish what we must ultimately do alone or even in pairs. But how formidable could we be as a group? All of our talents brought to bear simultaneously, who is there to resist us? What is there that we couldn’t do? We could change the world to suit us.”

“Bring life to the dead?” Cristina chided. “I think not.”

“It was a recruiting tool, nothing more. I doubt anyone believed it was possible but they could enlist the aid of those who had remorse and sympathy for the tragic loss of Sakum’malien life, once they showed them the evidence.”

“Still, if it was the goal to bring The Twenty-Four together, what is our combined potential?” she asked.

“The question is how do we find all the others?”

“Neville has an idea.” Cristina said. “I don’t fully trust him, though.”

“Because he works for the Colonial Authority?”

“That has a lot to do with it,” she said.

“He isn’t like the assholes we have dealt with. He listens and he thinks beyond the regulations.”

“So there’s purpose in our meeting him now.”

“There’s purpose in everything we’ve done,” Alix said. “Was there ever a doubt?”

Cristina laughed. “Now you finally believe in your destiny.”

“Our destiny, you mean. I’ve been skeptical at times, but I’ve been willing to allow for the possibility there was some pattern or plan we were fulfilling. Now, I understand. It’s very hard to discount what’s obvious.”

Staash had been sitting, quietly listening. But then in the momentary lull between Alix and Cristina he interjected, “What happens to Staash?”

“We’re going to New Milan,” Cristina said. “We know more people there. We have better contacts. Chase might be better connected in Andromeda and it’s a lot closer but I want to be in New Milan, with our band, our friends. Chase has contacts there as well. So, it’s not like he cannot help us even from Andromeda.”

“We need to use those contacts to get the local media on our side. We need to lead them out to the cavern that we visited, where we found you, Staash,” Alix said.

“Except the Colonial Authority controls them. They won’t buck the system. They could lose their contacts and sources of information. Worse they could end up in prison.”

“With us.”

“We need to expose the harsh truth to one and all – get the masses behind us, seeking reform and openness.”

“Seeking the ouster of the powers that exist now and hold dominion over us won’t work.”

“Why not?”

“To get the media to work with us we have to be sneaky – as sneaky as the Colonial Authority.”

“Don’t you think the media would benefit being free of control and authority,” Cristina countered. “Access to knowledge and information should be free to everyone.”

“You are sounding like Paul.”

“Maybe Paul has some of it just about right,” Cristina said. “There cannot be any change until the Colonial Authority is discredited and forced to accept the change – or overthrown.”

“What do you suggest in its place?”

“A free government, totally responsive to the people.”

“There has never been such a thing, never anything responsive to all people,” Alix said. “I’m not sure it would work, anyway. Human history had been about compromises. Forcing an entrenched government to turn over power has only come from revolution and usually violent wars.”

“We know it won’t be easy,” Cristina said.

“Hardly anything worth doing is easy,” Alix said. “My dad used to tell me that. It always pissed me off because he used it whenever I was about to give up on something because it was hard. But he was right.”

“We can’t let anyone parade Staash around,” Cristina said. “The real media circus will begin if we do that. It won’t be easy for Staash.”

“Staash tired learning about humans. Want go home, back life to normal,” he said.

Cristina nodded, and then she stood again and walked over to Staash and embraced him, almost able to touch her fingertips around his massiveness. “You have diminished,” she said as she stepped back.

“Sakum’malien live together, all things good. All share in life – alone only bad. Humans be alone can survive. Me, alone – die here, soon.”

Cristina lowered her head, “That’s what we must work on,” she said. “Nothing else supersedes that in importance.”

“Staash grateful, pretty lady.”

 

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The Resurrection: Chapter 22 -Old and New Friends

**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.**

Arnie made up a serving tray of cups for one and all and a pot of freshly made coffee. “I’ll bring everything we need,” Arnie continued his thought. “We can all sit and talk.”

“You and Mom have to take care of business,” Neville said as he glanced at his chronometer.

“It’s a couple of hours before opening, Arnie said. “We have plenty of time.”

“So it is, I thought it was later.”

“You’re living on Andromeda time, dear,” Mary said.

“I must be.” He smiled, then sipped form the freshly poured cup.

“If anyone shows up early, the coffee’s on the house,” Arnie said and filled everyone’s cups. “This morning, we’re celebrating having our family an friends together.”

Once everyone was taken care of Arnie settled beside Neville and Chase at the two tables his son has hastily scooted together while the ladies arranged their chairs around.

“This is excellent coffee, by the way,” Chase complemented.

“It’s a blend only Dad does,” Neville explained. “Four different types of beans, a secret mixture, roasted on site and ground fresh daily.”

“Well, it is simply the best I’ve ever had,” Chase said.

“Yes, it is,” Julie concurred.

“I was going to drive you to the house and let everybody sleep while I came back here to help Emma with the morning rush.”

“If it can be called a rush. I’m still worn out from the other morning when we were actually busy.”

“Anyway, it appears plans have changed. The caffeine will keep everybody going for a while.”

“I wish I had the recipe. I’d have a cup every morning,” Julie said. “You should patent it.”

“Dad’s been refusing offers to sell it for years.”

“I want it done right, not produced in mass. So, if you want my special coffee, you have to come to Star City and enjoy it here. Everything is in the preparation and the care for how it’s delivered.”

“Every performance depends on the rehearsal,” Chase said, relating Arnie’s insight to show business. “Which reminds me. Have you heard the news?” he directed to Cristina and Alix?”

“Which news? There’s been a lot going on lately,” Alix responded.

“Congratulations are in order. Your single and the Mod Card its from are both number one in Andromeda.”

“You’re kidding me,” Alix stared at him, then looked excitedly toward Cristina.

“It’s also number one in Haven and has been number one in New Milan for ten weeks, now – twenty five weeks in the top five. Maybe the fever has spread to Star City too, I’ll have to check.”

“That’s incredible news,” Cristina said.

“I’m receiving messages about tons of offers coming in from local promoters for some larger venues in every city. Global Star wants to put something together right away, but I’m thinking something more elaborate.”

“We were going into the studio first,” Cristina said. “The guys have written some new material. It would freshen the play list for the shows and promote new material.”

“That would be great. We can work with that, as long as you can knock out the new material quickly.”

“That’s something Alix and I need to talk about, not bore everyone else with. And I have some ideas we need to discuss Chase – in private.”

“Sure, we can do that.”

Julie looked askance at Chase.

“So, little lady, you’re famous,” Arnie asked. “Emma was saying you would be sooner or later.”

“She’s getting there,” Chase said. “Alix too. Being number one in both New Milan and Andromeda is so huge I can’t really explain it to anyone outside of the business. It will launch things elsewhere, maybe worldwide. I’d be surprised if our rivals on Little Continent aren’t ready to make some bids.”

“We’d stay with you, of course,” Cristina said.

“I appreciate the vote of confidence. But you go with who takes care of you the best. I want you to succeed but if Global Star isn’t the best—”

“But it has been,” Alix said.

“You’ll have to give us your autographs before you leave to go back home. We might never have the chance again,” Emma said as she leaned over the front counter.

“It’s happened so fast – I mean, lately it is,” Cristina said.

“The band has been playing since we were in high school,” Alix explained. “Pete and I were in college together but we still played in the band. Keith and Tim have been playing together since they were old enough to walk, just about. They approached Pete and me when they wanted to form a band.”

“Then they auditioned me after I got out of college.”

“Cristina studied music and theater,” Chase said. “She sings on stage but she also plays piano and guitar.”

“Well, all this couldn’t happen to nicer people,” Emma said.

Cristina beamed. “It all falls into place with what we want to do,” Cristina directed to Alix. “Our idea involves telling the world about what we’ve learned about the sand-morphs.”

“Sand-morphs. What have you learned?” Neville probed.

“First of all, they’re peaceful. They’re language is like music, very complicated music in a way with sounds and colors.”

“Paul told you this?” Chase asked. “I mean, you found him and talked to him?”

“We talked to him,” Alix said. “But not all that much about them. Cristina learned almost everything one her own.”

“You can learn a lot in a few moments,” she clarified. “It’s intense when you make a telepathic connection.”

“Talking to them on their level would be almost like attending a concert,” Alix said.

“Exactly,” Cristina said.

“It’s a pity they aren’t around anymore,” Neville said. “They could entertain us.”

“They’re civilization is very advanced. Maybe we’d entertain them. I don’t know. We might bore them, actually.”

“We’ll never know. The point is moot.”

“Oh, but it’s not, far from it,” Cristina said. “We can still learn a lot.”

“Taking trips to the past will do us little good,” Neville said.

“But we don’t need to go back, not right away. We can ask one directly.”

“Ask one?” Neville asked.

“We brought one back with us,” Alix said.

“You did what?” Chase asked.

“That’s a lot of what we need to talk about, my idea involves Staash.”

“Staash?” Neville asked. “I had a stuffed animal–”

“They know,” Emma said.

“I’m sorry we spoiled the surprise,” Cristina apologized to her.

“They found him when they were cleaning upstairs,” Emma explained. “He’s all dusted off and waiting for you at the house.”

“Really, where was he all this time?” Neville asked.

“Hidden, under a loose floorboard in one of the closets,” Alix said. “Subject to a cover-up in his own way.”

“Well, at least that mystery is solved. I’ll bet I know whose room it was in, too, just not which one of them did the deed,” Neville said.

“I hope we didn’t start a family feud,” Cristina said.

“Nothing major, anyway,” Arnie laughed. “Just a normal sibling knock-down drag-out. We’ll sell tickets. Emma can pop some corn.”

“Arnie!” Emma scolded her husband.

“So where’s this Staash, the other one?” Neville asked.

“He’s upstairs, watching world viewer and learning.”

Neville fell silent for a few moments. “Right now, upstairs, there is an alien?”

“I’m not sure I’m comfortable with him learning about humanity from world viewer,” Chase said.

“He learns very fast,” Cristina said. “They’re telepathic, by their nature.”

“That how you communicated?” Neville asked.

“He speaks now.”

“Actually very well,” Alix said.

“I used telepathy at first,” Cristina continued. “After a while we could speak to one another. To my chagrin he learned English far quicker than I’ve acquired his language.”

“I’m sure all this will be of some interest to the Colonial Authority,” Arnie said.

“That’s what we need to manage. We want everyone to know about them,” Cristina said. “The truth. People need to know what happened eighty years ago.”

Neville fell silent again, considering the ramifications of what Cristina proposed and how it would impact the world.

“Alix and I went back to a moment a five days before the initiation of terraforming this world.”

“How many sand-morphs did you see?” Neville asked.

“Thousands,” Alix said.

“In a community?”

“They were reluctant to be observed at first but, yes, we saw several of them and some of their technology,” Cristina said.

“There were maybe fifty of them at first but, as we descended deeper into their caverns, there were thousands,” Alix amplified.

“They call themselves Sakum’malien, or at least that’s the closest rendering within our means of pronunciation,” Cristina said.

Neville leaned back in his chair. Mary kept looking between her husband, Cristina and Alix, knowing enough about the subject of discussion to understand the gravity of what was being said.

“So, this sand-morph…” Chase ventured to reenter the discussion, but paused.

“Staash,” Alix interrupted. “He actually liked the name.”

“Staash, then. He’s really upstairs right now?” Chase asked. “Kicked-back watching world viewer?”

“You think we’re lying to you?” Alix asked.

“No, it just hard to get my head around it, I guess,” Chase said. “It seems so unreal, so completely unfathomable. He’s here from eighty years ago.”

“What’s unfathomable, that he’s proof of alien life or he’s from the past?” Alix asked.

“I guess, I have to see the beast to believe it,” Neville said.

“He’s not a beast. He’s highly intelligent and articulate. Amongst his kind he’s a poet,” Cristina countered.

“Really?” Chase expressed surprise. “Besides their language being music, they have art in their culture?”

“Their culture is very rich, in fact. Language for them is a much better medium for communication than anything humans have ever invented.”

“And he speaks English, now?” Neville sought confirmation.

“As do we all and he finds it confining for what he needs to express,” Alix countered.

“Mostly from watching world viewer,” Cristina said. “He learned the vocabulary and the foundations of grammar from whatever he gleaned through our telepathic connection. He learned nuances of conversation from observation whether it was from us or the world viewer.”

“He is a pro with the remote control including the link functions for accessing information,” Alix added.

“He knows more about us than we do about him,” Neville suggested, his voice hinting it concerned him.

“I think once you meet him most of your reservations will be allayed,” Cristina said.

“Would you like to?” Alix asked, standing up.

“Uh, well uh…yeah sure. I mean, I guess so,” Neville said.

“Is it safe?” Mary asked.

“He’s very civil, even docile,” Alix said. “I’ve learned he has a sense of humor and irony.”

“We would have never brought him back unless we felt it was safe,” Cristina said.

“At least you demonstrated that good sense,” Neville said.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Alix countered.

“You can’t possibly think it was a rational decision to retrieve a beast from the past. Because you appear to have that ability doesn’t mean it was ever intended–”

“Look,” Alix interrupted. “The Sakum’malien were here before us. That’s the undeniable truth the Colonial Authority has suppressed for all these years, vehemently and often violently. People have rotted in prison and died because they don’t want that truth to get out.”

“I know; I know,” Neville said. “They were indigenous life and our researchers missed them in their preliminary investigations and inadvertently terminated through the terraforming process.”

“So we’ve been told,” Cristina said. “The truth is something entirely different.”

“Then, please enlighten us,” Neville said with a hint of patronizing sarcasm.

“First of all the Sakum’malien are not indigenous at all. They were in the process of preparing this world for their own colonization efforts,” Alix said. “Despite their physical ability to filter poisons out of the air, they could not long endure the toxic levels in the air that existed even at the time of our early visitations.”

“They reduced the levels of the toxins to what we encountered, over a period of several centuries,” Cristina revealed something she’d learned directly but had not yet shared with Alix.

“They were here that long?” Neville inquired.

“Our spans are relatively brief in comparison,” Cristina said. “Not only would those we exterminated yet be alive, even those who were young adults like Staash would still be considered young.”

“They dwelled in deep caverns and used over-pressurization to form airlocks in order to prevent the contamination within the atmosphere from fouling the clean air inside,” Alix explained. “So you, see, there’s no way the sterilizations treatments that were released into the atmosphere and saturated the oceans could have ever violated the caverns in which the Sakum’malien lived.”

“You know this for a fact?” Neville asked.

“We were there,” Alix said. “I can take you there if you would like to see it for yourself?”

 

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The Resurrection: Chapter 21 – Another Convergence

**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 railcar paused at the first airlock, signaling its arrival at the outer entry to the dome at Star City. When the outer hull of the railcar was cleaned and purged of contaminants, it was permitted through the second airlock and on into the first station where many of the passengers disembarked.

Julie and Chase began gathering up their belongings and stowing away anything they took out of their carry-on luggage on their way. Neville and Mary already completed their preparations and were eagerly waiting to get off the railcar at the next station, on the other side of the city.

The railcar was about half empty after the first stop. A few new passengers boarded and the railcar delayed for the time interval it took for the conveyers beneath the station’s docking platform off load some the luggage designated for the first station. Then conveyor belt reversed direction to load luggage belonging to the newest passengers who were continuing beyond the other Star City station to other cities.

It was an amazingly smooth operation, really and was largely automated with only minimal human monitoring of the process. Every once in a while something would go awry and an attendant would immediately leap into action to correct the malfunction.

Once loaded, the railcar cabin was sealed and it continued on briefly to the other side of the city and the next station where the remaining passengers destined for Star City exited before the railcar boarded any new passengers. When the railcar again came to a complete stop, Neville and Mary were among the first of the passengers queued the exit door. They exited out onto the docking platform as the others who were still aboard the railcar waited. Once inside the station, Neville and Mary waited for Julie and Chase who were separated from them by several passengers in the line. Chase was saying goodbye to Pick, reiterating arrangements to stay in touch, exchanging business cards.

Chase rejoined Julie and they hurried to baggage claim where Chase stood beside Neville to wait alongside the carousel for their checked baggage. The ladies retrieved a luggage cart from a nearby rack and waited a few meters behind the men.

“Neville…Mary!” a voice familiar to them called out.

“Dad,” Neville turned to respond with a broad smile on his face as he embraced the older gentleman who looked older than he ever seemed on the periodic phone video feeds.

They were just completing their hugs when Chase reached for first Neville’s bag and then Julie’s. A few moments later he retrieved his and then Mary’s.

“Chase, this is my father Arnie.”

“The pleasure is mine,” Chase said. “And this is Julie,” he introduced as she approached with Mary to shake hands. Mary hugged her father-in-law.

“I brought the supply coach,” Arnie said. “It is not as comfortable but there’s a lot more room for everyone and the luggage,” Arnie said.

“That’ll be fine, Dad,” Neville said.

“I figured the pretty ladies could sit up front with me. You boys can ride rough in the back on the jump seats with the luggage.”

“Just like the old days,” Neville said, and then made a comment about when he was a little boy going to get supplies for the shop with his father. He would never ride up front in the delivery coach because he preferred resting in the back amongst the bags of coffee beans, sugar, flour, and such, some of them as big of usually much heavier than he was at the time.

Arnie pitched in to help Chase and Neville heft the luggage onto the cart Mary wheeled toward them. Everything loaded Arnie led the way to the van he’d left parked at the curb in a delivery zone. As his vehicle bore a commercial vendor’s decal it was never questioned.

Once everyone and everything they brought with them were loaded into the coach, Arnie used the automatic pilot to direct the coach to return to the alley behind the coffee shop. “I thought we’d stop by so you can see Emma before heading on out the house.”

“How is she?” Mary asked.

“She’s the same as always. She complains once in a while but at our age I suppose complaints are expected if not allowed.”

“The last time we talked, she said she had some stiffness in her elbow,” Mary responded.

“Oh yeah, well I made her go to the clinic about it and they gave her something to rub on it and some sort of injection and after a few hours it was better.”

“That’s good.”

“You know Emma, though. Half the effort was getting her out of the shop to go there. We closed early one afternoon. It wasn’t like we missed much business, but still, she felt guilty. She was angry at me for insisting she go and then gong with her to boot.”

“She sounds like quite a character,” Julie said.

“Well, she can be,” Arnie said. “I don’t know what to do with her sometimes but I am certain I could never have made it to this point in my life without her.” He chuckled to himself. “I’ll bet she would say the same thing about me.”

It wasn’t that far to the coffee shop. By the time that the coach turned off the street and they arrived in the alley behind, the sun was already high enough in the sky that it shone through the dome illuminating even the darkest corners, chasing away the lingering vestiges of a shadowy, moonlit night. Arnie triggered the releases on the doors and everyone disembarked. Emma met Mary at the back door, hugging her warmly. Then with Mary’s introduction, Emma hugged Julie as well.

Chase offered his hand to Emma and she shook it and smiled before focusing her attentions on her only son. They held one another in a shared embrace for several moments, Neville lifting her from her feet. “I’ve missed you, Mom.”

“You don’t have to be such a stranger, you know.”

“Well, I am pretty busy at work.”

“And it’s such a long trip,” Arnie offered as an excuse for his boy.

“Well, there’s that too,” Neville said.

“Why waste the words now that you’re here. Come on inside. Arnie made fresh coffee before he left and I made breakfast for everyone.”

“Great,” Neville said.

“Yes, that sounds wonderful,” Julie said as she reached back and grabbed Chase’s hand and led him inside. While Mary and Neville continued catching up on everything with Emma and Arnie, Chase and Julie continued through the kitchen and out into the front dining area where they sat at a table. Arnie poured two cups of coffee and carried them out on a tray to Chase and Julie.

“There are a couple of people I’d like you to meet,” Emma said to Neville and Mary as they lingered back in the kitchen. “They should be awake by now.”

“They are very nice young people using our old place upstairs – temporarily,” Arnie explained as he returned to the kitchen to gather up a tray of steamed sweet rolls. “They are from out of town and seemed to be having it a little rough.”

“And you just took them in,” Neville said incredulously as shook his head.

“Well, I always do what I feel is right and treat people how I would want to be treated.”

“You know my concern.”

“I’m not as cynical as you are, I guess. I assume people are good people until it’s proven otherwise.”

“Well from my experience there are few people you can trust.”

“And that’s a very sad commentary on our world and times,” Arnie said.

“Well, it is as much my fault,” Emma said. “I couldn’t help it. I know they’re really good people.”

“Where are they from?”

“From New Milan.”

“What are they doing all the way up here?” Neville asked.

“They have been looking for the girl’s brother.”

“I see.”

“Don’t be negative,” Mary chided Neville.

“I’m not being negative. I’m just trying to watch out for the safety and best interests of my parents.”

“And your parents have a lot of experience looking out for themselves,” Mary said, coming to Emma’s defense. “They also did a pretty good job raising you and your sisters.”

“I’m not about to change ‘who’ I am and ‘what’ I believe is right. The world can continue going to hell, I’m going to take care of my part of it, though,” Arnie said.

“Regardless of your concerns, they’re heading back to New Milan in a few days, along with their friend,” Emma said.

“Well, maybe they are all right, then,” Neville finally relented. “It’s just I worry about you guys and your good nature. People take advantage of you.”

“What if they have? It’s on their conscience. Emma and I are fine.”

“You should not pass judgment on people without ever having met them,” Emma said and she started up the steps at the back of the kitchen. “There’s no reason for us to change the way we are. But you are still young enough to learn and adapt.”

The burn of Mary’s glare at Neville caused him to turn away but he received no better from his father’s stare on the other side.

“Okay, okay, I get it. Believe in people until they earn mistrust.”

“I wondered if you even remembered that,” Arnie said.

“Dad, I live by it. I just have always been over protective of you, every since I was a teenager.”

Arnie chuckled. “Yeah, I remember your attempts to protect me.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard this story,” Mary said.

“And you should never hear it,” Neville said.

“There are some secrets made to be kept between a father and his son,” Arnie vocalized his support for his son’s privacy.

“I see how it is. You two gang up on me whenever I’m close to learning something potentially embarrassing.”

“I assure you it’s not embarrassing,” Arnie said.

“Then why can’t I know the secret?”

“Because it’s a secret,” Neville said.

“You and your secrets!” Mary complained.

Just then, Emma returned from upstairs and announced that her other guests would be down shortly. “They said they were awake but I really think I woke them up.”

“They were probably tired,” Arnie said.

“They were out for a good while yesterday. I feel bad for them,” Emma said. “They seemed so disappointed when they came home late yesterday afternoon.”

Suddenly Alix peered from the stairs around the edge of the ceiling as he descended the stairs. When he had reached the kitchen floor Emma offered an introduction, “This is my son Neville and his wife Mary.”

“It is good to meet you,” Alix said as he extended his hand to first Mary and then Neville.

“The pleasure is mine,” Neville said.

“Ours,” Mary amended.

Emma offered. “Where’s Cristina?”

“She’s coming. She’s still doing the make-up thing.”

Cristina appeared feet first descended the stairs as first Alix then everyone else turned in her direction. “This is Cristina,” Alix introduced as she had arrived downstairs.

“This is Mary, my wife and I’m Neville.”

“So, we finally meet,” Cristina said directly to him, then turned to Mary, “Both of you. Emma has spoken of you.”

“Good things I hope.”

“Of course it was good,” Emma offered in protest.

“Emma tells us you are from New Milan,” Neville said.

“That we are,” Alix said. “Do you know New Milan?”

“I’ve been there,” Mary said. “Neville has been there a few times for meetings.”

“Really,” Alix smiled. “You’re from Andromeda, right?”

“Yeah,” Mary said. “You know Andromeda?”

“A little,” Alix said. “We performed there a few times in the last year.”

“Performed? Are you actors?”

“Musicians.”

“That would have been my second guess,” Mary said.

“We were on a world tour.”

“Are you on tour here?”

“Not really,” Cristina said. “We were on vacation, spending some time with some friends in Andromeda before going back to the studio for recording. I came here looking for my brother.”

“We are getting ready to go back home,” Alix said. “Arnie and Emma asked us to stay and meet you. We’ll be leaving in a couple of days.”

“You know,” Mary said, “We’ve completely forgotten about Julie and Chase,” she said to Neville.

“Where are they?” he asked even as Cristina looked to Alix.

“Out in the front,” Arnie said, sitting at a table. “I poured them some coffee.”

“It can’t be the same Chase and Julie,” Cristina said mainly to Alix.

“You know them?” Emma asked as she overheard.

“Well, it could be someone different.” Alix allowed.

“Which seems unlikely,” Cristina added, and then shouted, “Chase, is that you?”

Both Chase and Julie responded, coming into the kitchen, Julie embracing Cristina as Alix shook Chase’s hand the pulled in closer to embrace. “We thought you were missing.”

“Well, we have to talk about that,” Alix replied to Chase.

“So you know each other already?” Neville asked probably just a couple of seconds before Arnie was going to.

“Chase managed our world tour. We met Julie when we visited them in Andromeda several days ago.”

Arnie leaned back against the counter. “Let me get this straight. My son and daughter-in-law know people who are friends of people I met here a few days ago who spent the night the alley beside my building.”

“Small world,” Emma said in summary.

“To say the very least,” Neville said.

“It is quite a coincidence.”

“Except there are no coincidences,” Julie said.

“None at all,” Cristina confirmed.

“I assume Cristina and Alix have the attributes, then,” Neville said.

“Of course,” Chase said.

“It seems as if The Twenty-Four are being drawn together, a pair at a time then into mutual associations.”

“Because we’re supposed to,” Julie said.

“I presume from that statement you know of other pairings?” Alix probed.

“A few,” Neville said. “You mothers have told me of them. They have access to information resources on their children.”

“Our mothers?” Alix asked.

“They’re alive,” Chase said. “Julie and I met our mothers.”

Both Alix and Cristina were suddenly silent.

“Sometimes it’s almost like some evil genie is controlling all of us like marionettes,” Neville offered.

“What determines whether the genie is evil?” Cristina asked.

“Perception?” Alix suggested.

“Everything is about perception,” Arnie said. “That’s been that way from my experience.”

“What is there that exists if no one’s around to perceive it?” Chase asked.

“Such was the divine dilemma,” Neville proposed. “Does a tree falling in the forest make a sound if no one is there to hear it. Was there ever a sunrise on this planet before we arrived to be the first to witness it? The very origin of this planet was regarded as crazy, unscientific speculation no one could possibly corroborate until a remote probe was arrived and through it we perceived a younger version of Earth, uninhabited.”

“Except for the uninhabited part, that is true,” Cristina said.

“Well, now that we’re all here, of course Pravda is inhabited.”

“It was inhabited for a long time before we arrived,” Cristina insisted. “Sand-morphs exist.”

“Yes, yes, that childhood fantasy,” Neville responded. “They find piles of sand in a cave and speculate there was life here before we came.”

“So we’re told,” Chase said.

“No one’s seen one,” Neville said, then sipped from his coffee.

“Except for the people who found the piles of sand when they were still in tact,” Chase said.

“And us,” Alix added.

“You have seen one?” Neville asked with a chuckle.

“They perceived one back in time, through a portal their orbs created,” Chase said.

“Things have evolved a good bit since that, Chase,” Cristina said.

“Has it now? How?” he asked.

“Something I learned to do, called folding time. We went back and found one.”

“Your met one, in the flesh – so to speak?”

“Actually, we met several but communicated most directly with the one,” Cristina said. “His name was Slahl’yukim, the real name, anyway.”

“That’s a mouthful of a name,” Neville said.

“That’s why we shortened it a bit,” Alix said.

“Come sit down out front, all of you,” Arnie suggested, motioning for everyone to come along.

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The Resurrection: Chapter 20 – Anticipation

**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 and Alix returned to the coffee shop, spoke some words with Emma in passing but then started to go upstairs to the apartment. As Alix went on Cristina paused at the bottom of the stairs, “Is Arnie okay? I didn’t see him this morning either. Did he go out?”

“He’s cleaning up the house. Our son and his wife are bringing a couple of friends from Andromeda for a visit. They should be here in the morning.”

“Really. You must be excited.”

“It’s been a long time since they were here. Actually it was when we moved into the new house.”

“Well you can give him the stuffed bear.”

“Staash,” Emma smiled.

“Perhaps we should call the bear ‘little Staash’ so as not to confused with my friend.”

“His name is Staash?”

“Isn’t it ironic?”

“Yes, it is.” Emma agreed. “Maybe you’re right about renaming the bear. The bear will embarrass Neville in front of Mary but she’ll think it’s cute.”

“Do you get along well with her?”

“Mary, oh yes. Maybe it is because we live so far apart that I don’t interfere with her household. But I’ve never had any problem getting along with her. I believe truly Neville found the right woman.”

“You’ll have to introduce us when they get here.”

“Of course. Maybe you, Alix and your friend can come to dinner at our house.”

“I don’t know. We may be leaving soon for New Milan.”

“All the more reason for you to have a good dinner as a send off. That’s a very long trip, and so soon after your friend has arrived.”

Cristina smiled. “I’ll talk to Alix about it. Staash may not want to come.”

“Well, you send him down here,” she picked up a spoon. “I’ll persuade him for you.”

“I’ll bet you could,” Cristina said with a laugh, then continued on, calling down after. “I’ll let you know.”

She opened the door. Staash stood-up. “I have been pleasuring myself to be seeing you again so soon,” he said.

“He’s been practicing,” Alix said, with a chuckle. “He still needs a lot of work – especially on nuance of meanings, euphemism and slang. But hell, I have heard people who are supposed to be fluent do a lot worse.”

“I think it’s an amazing achievement.”

“I thank you,” Staash said.

“You’re welcome.”

Staash nodded. “Your language fits tightly, too much,” he gave his opinion. “I don’t know how to express. It limits minds.”

“I think I understand that,” Alix said. “Sometimes I feel things I can’t find the words for.”

“Yes, I think that is the same I am saying,” Staash said.

“Emma invited us to dinner,” Cristina said to Alix.

“You said no, of course.”

“I said I’d get back to her.”

“What about Staash?”

“He could stay here. I don’t know. It just seemed like such a friendly thing. I told her we were going to New Milan very soon.”

“Yeah, well there is really no reason to stay here anymore.”

Cristina walked over to the shelves upon which Neville’s bear rested. “She said her son and his wife are coming along with some friends from Andromeda. It might be fun having dinner with them.”

“Well, Staash handled being alone here very well.”

“Staash have fun, watch world viewer, learning much to say very easy.”

“Are you hungry, Staash?” Cristina asked.

“What it is that you gave me delicious. What is it you eat, strange looks.” Staash looked at first Cristina and then Alix.

“We eat three times a day, usually. The time after sleeping is called breakfast. Eating round now would be called lunch. Then around sunset, or maybe later we eat dinner.”

“Food same each time or different?”

“Different,” Alix explained.

Staash looked at Cristina, inviting telepathy in order that he could better understand. After a few moments, he turned away. “You eat other living things?”

“Things that were living, yes,” Alix said. “We draw energy from food. Plants capture the energy of the sun in sugars and starches. Animals eat the plants to provide them energy for growth of their muscles and we eat both plants and animals and in that way obtain the energy of the sun that is stored in their tissues.”

Staash stared at them while attempting to remain nonplussed. What little he understood disgusted him. “Humans kill to eat. Very nature, humans are barbaric.”

They heard footsteps ascending the stairs.

“Emma,” Cristina warned.

“Staash, come with me,” Alix led him into one of the other rooms and then bade him to wait and closed the door as he returned to the living room just as Cristina was letting Emma inside.

“I don’t want to intrude, but I forgot to remind you about the lunch I made for everyone. I hope you didn’t eat while you were out.”

“No actually we didn’t,” Alix said.

She handed the tray to Cristina. “I wanted to get Little Staash, to kind of make it a surprise when Neville gets home. I think I’ll leave it on the guest bed.”

“That would be a very good place.” Cristina laughing. “Thank you for making lunch, Emma. That’s very sweet of you.”

“Honey, I love cooking. If I didn’t, I would have been miserable all of my life. Arnie makes very, very good coffee, even the best you can get anywhere, but he’s a so-so cook.”

“You’re a good team, then,” Alix suggested.

Emma nodded, “That we are. Anyway, you can bring the tray and dishes down when as come, just leave them in the sink. I made some stew for Arnie’s dinner. What’s left is in the pot inside the refrigerator. It should be more than enough for three. I’m closing down early for the day to go home and help Arnie with the house. When you’re finished you can just leave everything in the sink. I’ll tend to them in the morning.”

“Alix and I can clean up afterwards. It is the least we can do after you fixed us lunch and dinner.”

“I had to make something to take home for Arnie, anyway.”

“Even so, we’ll clean up.”

“That would be nice of you,” Emma said. “I’d better get home. Arnie is good at the major things like vacuuming, mopping and dusting, but he misses the details.”

“Most men do,” Cristina generalized causing Alix to scowl but then he laughed.

“I’ll see you in the morning then. Bring you friend down for some coffee and breakfast. Arnie will be picking up Neville, Mary and their friends at the station. I’m sure they’ll stop by on their way to the house.”

“Staash isn’t very sociable.”

“Well, then at least bring some breakfast up to him afterwards. Regardless of your friend, you can meet my son and his wife. I know nothing about their friends other than Neville said he knows their mothers.”

“Maybe they were coming this way for other reasons,” Alix said.

“Maybe so. He says they’re nice young people. So I’m sure we’ll like them.”

“You’re nervous,” Cristina said knowing full well that she was.

“Is it that obvious?”

“Yes, it is. You and Arnie are cleaning up the house…”

“The coffee shop as well,” Emma confessed.

“I think you are worrying for nothing. Everything will be fine.”

Emma nodded. “Well, Arnie is waiting for me, I’m sure. You take care.”

“You too,” Cristina responded for both her and Alix.

Staash understood enough of the conversation to know when it was safe for him to emerge. He returned to the place he had been occupying on the couch. Then Staash turned as Alix joined him and began programming the remote to check on entertainment channels. “Staash embarrasses you with others?”

“It isn’t that,” Cristina said as she joined them, setting the tray of sandwiches on the coffee table. “Humans are not very good at accepting differences. I’m afraid most humans would think you’re a monster. They might even try to kill you if we didn’t stop them. We need to choose the right time to introduce you to everyone, and explain who you are and what you represent.”

Staash seemed to understand that. He was not happy with his situation. He wanted to go back to his kind except he knew the ultimate ending and he was willing to allow Cristina the chance to fix that.

In the evening, after Cristina and Alix had dinner together alone downstairs and cleaned up after themselves, Alix called dibs on the shower. He knew that if he had to wait for Cristina it would be a very long time and he was tired. Besides he was eager to show Staash some more interesting things about world viewer such as all the educational resources as well as the variety of entertainment options including games.

While Cristina was taking her shower, Alix happened upon a video recorded of Duae Lunae’s performance at one of the major venues in Star City during their most recent tour. He activated a laser pointer in the remote and indicated, “That’s me. And there, that’s Cristina.”

Staash sat back and seemed to radiate a sort of glow that Alix was beginning to understand was a Sakum’mal’s version of a smile. “Cristina has voice wonderful.”

“Yes, it is,” Alix agreed.

“This is what you like to do?”

“We love it,” Alix said. “There’s nothing like it. There were seven thousand people there just to hear us play our music and watch us perform. They even sang along with some of our songs. There’s a feeling you get from that – you just never forget it. It’s something you want to experience over and over again.”

Staash turned his eyes toward Alix. “You and Cristina famous humans.”

Alix laughed, “I don’t know about me, maybe she is. No one remembers my name as a rule. Everyone knows Cristina. She’s the star.”

“You love her.”

“Ever since I met her I’ve loved her. It’s just been a recent thing that she seemed to notice me. We haven’t been a couple for very long, so we’re still working out the details and the rules.”

“She always loved you?”

“I don’t know if she loved me at all and so I certainly wouldn’t know how long she’s loved me. I don’t know if that ever matters because it’s now that matters. It makes me happy to be with her and forget about anyone else.”

Cristina emerged from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her. “What’s that you’re watching?”

“They are broadcasting a recording of one of our concerts here.”

“Really,” Cristina smiled. “So Staash, you see what I do – what we do. Now you understand performing.”

“Your voice wonderful.”

“Thank you, Staash.”

“Staash teach you my language. You will without accent because singing, instruments rest sounds make.”

Alix frowned with incomprehension until he remembered what Cristina said, the Sakum’malien language was more like music.

Staash wanted to hear more of Duae Lunae’s music so Alix showed him how to access network links to their promotional site and he pressed in a generic access key that the band had been given to have full access to the site’s resources. Alix set it up so that Staash could listen to all the songs the band had ever recorded. The sand-morph seemed thrilled as Alix showed him where there were other videos. It was obvious he intended to watch everything and listen to every song.

“We have a new fan,” Alix said as he wrapped his arm around Cristina’s shoulders.

“Staash, we’re going to sleep. You can watch the world viewer all you want and rest out here again or if you want to try out a bed, in one of the other rooms. Do you understand?”

“What is different humans sleep Staash rest?”

Cristina projected to him and after a few moments Staash nodded. “Yes, Staash understand,” he vocalized. “Staash sleep too. Wonder, though. Different ways.”

She said good night to Staash and left the living room, joining Alix in the bedroom, closing the door behind her. She was mentally, emotionally and physically spent. Despite the desire she saw in Alix’s eyes, she had nothing to give. She kissed him then lay down beside him. They cuddled for a while as they talked, discussing the immediate past and their plans for the imminent future. Eventually they fell asleep wrapped in one another’s embrace.

In the morning, Alix was first to awaken. He gently slid his arms out from around her and carefully sat up in bed and quietly stepped out onto the floor. He turned and softly kissed her on the forehead before gingerly negotiating the way out of the room without disturbing her sleep.

He closed the door to the bedroom behind him, taking pains to do it without making any noise. When he looked out into the living room, Staash was there. He didn’t know whether the Sakum’mal ‘slept’ at all. He appeared to be exactly where he had last seen him and he was still in the process of learning everything about Duae Lunae. Alix never realized how much material the group had on the site or that it could possibly take all night to watch and listen to the media material of their recording sessions and live performances. As he considered that the group had been together for thirteen years, ten with Cristina, it seemed more plausible. They had recorded a lot and performed a lot. There was perhaps more than a week’s worth of videos here and there. For recordings there were several hours of those alone.

“I’m in love with Cristina’s voice,” Staash said with a startling level of fluency.”

“You can stand in line behind every other person in the world.”

Staash glowed. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For speaking of me as your peer.”

“I notice you’re more comfortable speaking now.”

“I have been learning. I make mistakes, still, I think. Learning words easy, grammar hard.”

“It’s the same for us. Someone long ago decided to make a proper way to say everything and enforcing those rules has been a battle ever since. As far as I’m concerned you sound nearly fluent now.”

“Thank you. It is very important to me to be understood clearly. I realize what a gift you and Cristina have provided to me. I have a chance to save lives of my kind. I don’t fully understand all the logistics but I appreciate the efforts you have made and the gift of one chance.”

“The more I’ve considered it, what would have been perfect is if you could have convinced your contemporaries to protect themselves and survive the sterilization,” Alix said as he stood up and walked over to the front window.

“I thought you did not consider that an option,” Staash said. “You did not know what you would be returning to. You think maybe you no longer be here.”

“What we returned to has not improved, so maybe changing it isn’t a bad thing” Alix said. “I’m not as confident as Cristina seems to be that parading you around will accomplish much. It would be an easy thing for the Colonial Authority to circulate a lie discrediting us as the purveyors of a hoax.”

“Then I came here for no reason at all.”

“I wouldn’t say that. You’ve learned about us, about humans and learned about our language and something about our culture and how we live. I think all of that is important. And we’ve learned a lot about you, foremost how intelligent you and your kind are. It’s no small achievement learning our language so quickly.”

“Sharing Cristina thoughts help me much.” Staash’s eyes followed Alix as he paced the floor, and then the Sakum’mal explained his take on the events in the cavern in the past. “They did not listen. You know that. I was fairly recent arrival, outcast from home world. Out of favor with powerful, I say in poems things misunderstood. They branded me maverick – if understand use of word correctly. They exile me. I think you have picked poor representative my kind.”

“I think we picked the only one of your kind who might listen to us,” Cristina startled both of them as she came up from behind.

“I’m sorry we wake you,” Staash said.

“Did you even sleep?” she asked.

“I rested. It is my way, not exactly sleep but serves purpose for metabolism.”

“It will be light out soon,” Alix said as he peered out through the drapes at the sky beyond the dome.

“We need to leave for New Milan,” Cristina said.

“I thought you wanted to attend the dinner Emma invited us to.”

“I don’t know if it’s wise. Somehow I keep thinking we’re living on borrowed time, until the authorities figure out we stepped back a few days in time and that’s how we arrived here without detection.”

“If they detected us they disbelieved it was an error in their sensors,” Alix said. “We have new ID’s and new payment wand accounts. They haven’t been able to track us as Cristina and Alix, else they would have found us by now.”

“It is a matter of time,” Cristina said, and then she laughed at the ironic relevance of the expression. “We have certainly manipulated it. Staash would not be here if that were not the case.”

 

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The Resurrection: Chapter 19 – Penetration

**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.**

After fixing something for Cristina and Alix to eat, Slahl’yukim told them what his kind ate, though he insisted he was not hungry. It was just as well as Dom didn’t know where he would obtain different types of gravel at that time of night

Dom handled everything else he could. Slahl’yukim’s ID implant and payment wand, were linked a fictitious database to populate fields establishing a history that would not be suspected if it were brought up in a cursory check of credentials. For the sake of human identity, the sand-morph was named Stanislaus ‘Staash’ Stanokowski’. It seemed to fit the massive stature of the beast, giving him a good, solid Polish name that happened to be something Cristina suggested in reference to the stuffed animal she and Alix found when they were cleaning the apartment above the coffee shop.

Raven gave Cristina detailed views and directions for where the authorities were keeping Paul. He arranged for Dom to issue them temporary visitation privileges under their assumed identities.

She was determined to find her brother and if possible liberate him but that was no longer her overriding priority. Her immediate focus was on Slahl’yukim, who Alix was already calling ‘Staash’. If for no other reason than it was easier to say and remember. The Sakum’mal seemed to like his new name.

Once everything was completed, Cristina hugged Raven and thanked him yet again for helping. But then as she started to pull away he resisted, “You know that now I’m fascinated by this adventure. That’s the only reason I’m moderately participating.”

“We’ll see if what turns out is as entertaining as you anticipate.”

“Yes, we will,” Raven said. “You cannot imagine the variables you’ve thrown into possible courses of the immediate future. Now, I have a lot of new niches in potential reality to explore.”

As Cristina headed toward the others, she turned back and faced Raven. “You know I wanted to use all this time to write some songs for the band’s next recording session.”

“You have a wealth of experience to draw from. The writing may even come easier once you find the time.”

She smiled. “Regardless of how this turns out, thank you. When I first met you I never realized we would ever become friends.”

“Usually couriers never see their charges after the delivery of the orb.”

“Well, you have always been here for me and I appreciate it.”

“It’s never been convenient, but it’s always been interesting,” Raven told her as he embraced her yet again. Then he looked down. “It will be a very long time before we can ever meet again.”

“You know this?”

“It’s a cruel certainty of my perception.”

“How long?”

“Long enough for it to matter to either of us,” he said.

Cristina looked to Alix and Dom, then back to Raven. “So, this is farewell, not goodbye.”

“Yes,” Raven said. “If you need to cling to that hope.”

“I do.”

“You are a charmer. You could go anywhere and be exactly who and what you are. And yet, you are sincere, always the same person you’ve ever been. You have the gift, Cristina. You’re the focal point. Of all those with the attributes, you have the balance and grace to make all of it work. It’s instinctive perhaps but it’s there. Paul should have learned from you.”

“Well, that was hard for us to do living on opposite sides of the continent.”

“It was a wasted effort, breaking him out…”

“No, not really. The local resistance is still at large. That’s the positive that comes from what you did. Paul was instrumental in their escape. But he became the authorities total focus.”

Outside the air was not quite as dry as it had been in Raven’s study. Even so Dom had packed a large quantity of water for Staash, just in case.

The trio descended the hill toward the Starport stop and waited for a few minutes. When the coach arrived Staash was a little wary of boarding the coach at first but then he received non-verbal reassurances from Cristina that it was very safe and he boarded just ahead of Alix. As was the usual case the coach was virtually empty. But by the time they reached ‘the crosstown’ stop they picked up a few more passengers.

‘The crosstown’ coach was half-full. It had much to do with the time of night. The heavy influx of people toward the downtown area was over for the night, probably until morning. With the pickups and drop-offs the number of passengers never exceeded half-capacity.

Staash peered out from beneath the hood of his trench coat, appraising the variety of people and their appearances, beginning to appreciate the diversity of human appearance. It troubled him as much as it intrigued him. He was not sure Cristina’s plan would work. He was putting his faith in her. Really, his life was under her control.

Why was he doing this? Was it for the sake of the adventure? Who would he ever tell about this experience? Everyone he knew was already dead and had been for a period that Cristina termed eighty years, something just slightly less than an average human’s lifetime – as he understood it. It was significant in a way. What human was yet alive that might have made the decisions. Anyone who was still alive would have been a relatively young human – an infant they were called – and therefore would not have had such authority at the time anyway.

Raven seemed very different compared to Cristina and Alix. Some of it was attributable to age. From that already Staash learned humans grow tired and feeble with age, much the same as the Sakum’malien. Raven defied that. He was far older than what Cristina had indicated was normal. Staash could tell. He had tried to rectify his lack of knowledge, but Raven resisted his mental probes. What he knew was he was more like the servant called Dom than Cristina or Alix – they were not really human either, but at least they were the result of a natural process of reproduction.

As Staash sat quietly mulling over everything that happened he tried to piece together the words fitting properly to flow as his vocalized thought. He had been listening to Cristina and Alix. He listened to Raven and even Dom back at the estate. There was a rhythm and meter to the language, which he recognized from his knowledge of how poetry worked. It was not the meter Sakum’malien preferred, but some poetry had been composed utilizing the exact same meter and rhythm as the language Cristina was teaching him.

The spoken Sakum’malien language employed a natural meter consistent with the underlying harmony of its delivery. Yet the language was seldom uttered except for infrequent mass oration or, more frequently, mass entertainment. Interpersonal communication was always telepathic. It fact it was considered at least rude but, often, an unforgivable insult to speak directly to one Sakum’mal. It was tantamount to presuming the lack of intelligence to communicate in the normal, preferred way.

For that reason Staash fought the first inclination to think humans were natively rude and inconsiderate. Raven mentioned privacy as if it were more important than communication. It was antithetical as a concept for a Sakum’mal. Among his kind, nothing was more important than communication. It fostered understanding without which there would be no peace. As much as the humans pretended to be seeking peace, Staash decided it was their need for privacy that prevented it.

Staash consumed water from one of the several flasks Dom provided for him. It refreshed him, restoring the necessary moisture to his palate. Humans seemed to prefer a much drier, less humid environment than the Sakum’malien. He projected the comment mentally to Cristina whose answer was particularly odd. She claimed that humans adapt to a variety of environments, but perhaps, they preferred warm and relatively dry. Staash was trying to understand humans and their world but he kept coming upon gaps, mysteries that, even after Cristina tried to explain them, still left him wanting.

He stared out the window of the coach at the city as it passed by outside the coach. He wondered at the technologies involved and why humans preferred to be above ground. Surely they were very, very different from the Sakum’malien.

He was immersed in thought when Cristina nudged him, indicating that they had reached a point where they needed to exit the coach. As they stood the coach stopped. The three of them descended from the coach and out onto the curb. She turned to Staash and through telepathy explained that they were going to be taking him to a safe place where he could stay and be more comfortable. It wasn’t far, only a few blocks.

Once she had set out for the coffee shop Cristina paused, turned back to encourage Staash. She could tell that he was overwhelmed and did not understand the necessity of anything they were doing, especially why they were eventually going to seek freedom for her brother. She attempted to explain but the concepts she attempted to covey were alien to Staash. “How do you deal with criminals?” she finally projected to him.

“‘Criminals’ means what?” Staash asked aloud.

“Surely there are those of your kind who break laws or do things deemed harmful to others and society.”

“Thalimuv,” Staash rendered as best he could in utterance.

Cristina frowned, “I think that concept is more like ‘an outcast’. Someone who was exiled.”

“No more belong anywhere. Alone always.”

“We restrict freedom,” Alix said. “For some that is much worse than exile.”

“Different ways,” Staash said.

Cristina looked at Staash. “My brother is inside a prison.”

“At least we think that he is,” Alix said. “We could be wrong. That’s why we want to check it out first thing tomorrow.”

“Staash go with?”

“It will be best for you to wait for us.”

“Wait?”

“We have an apartment at out disposal,” Cristina explained, projecting what she needed to so that Staash understood her better. “We’ll stay there tonight. Tomorrow Alix and I will go and you will stay in the apartment.”

“Staash good. Me wait Cristina and Alix.”

Alix entered the coffee shop first, then Cristina and Staash. The coffee shop was closed, of course. Alix located the lights and clicked them on until the others ascended the stairs and entered the apartment. Then Alix returned to lock the front door and turned off the lights as he went upstairs.

Once he was in the apartment, he saw that Cristina was already demonstrating world viewer for Staash. From the sand-morph’s responses he seemed impressed. Cristina explained through telepathy that he was watching programming from their city as well as other cities on the planet.

“Cristina city where?”

“New Milan,” she pointed to one of the preview monitors. “Here, this is an entertainment channel from my home city, our home city. Alix is from New Milan, too. Where we found you is close to where Haven which is there.”

Staash nodded. “Staash home.”

“Yeah, in a warped way, you are,” Alix confirmed from behind.

“Sit down,” Cristina said to Staash. He complied and as Alix handed the remote to him, he was duly impressed with how rapidly he learned how to use the device. He suspected Staash considered the technology archaic and the remote device a mere toy.

Cristina was beginning to appreciate the complexities of Sakum’malien culture from what she already assimilated from Staash.

“If you watch world viewer, you can learn how to speak,” Cristina said. “Listen and learn.”

Staash looked at her, “You leaving?”

“In the morning, we have to find my brother. We are going to rest now.”

“Staash help. Free Paul.”

“Okay,” Cristina said. “You like your new name?”

“Staash like,” he said. “Simple name, uncomplicated.”

“Staash, Alix and I are going to sleep. You can rest as well. Or you may watch the world viewer. When we wake in the morning. I’ll find something for you to eat. There is water. Let me show you.” She led the way into the kitchen and demonstrated. “The glasses are right here.” she obtained one. This one can be yours. If you get thirsty, you drink. Okay?”

Staash nodded.

“We are going to shower and go to bed.”

“Staash watch. Learn much.”

Periodically, throughout the night, Staash drank water. He watched world viewer, sampling channels. Everything interested him at first. He rested on the couch. Though he did not require sleep as a human would, he did experience a cycle similar to a dream state. During this the images in his mind were of his home world, where he spent his early years, the place he truly wanted to be.

In the early morning, when the Sakum’mal roused, immediately he consumed several glasses of water. Resuming his scanning of the channels on world viewer, he found one of the entertainment offerings of particular interest, a theatrical production of Shakespeare’s Macbeth. Although he did not understand it, it fascinated him.

When Cristina woke she went to the bathroom for necessary relief, then came into the living room to check on Staash. “You like this?”

“This interests,” he replied. “Older language is?”

“Yes, it is an archaic form or the language you are learning.”

He nodded.

“I’m impressed.”

“Human poetry.”

“Yes, it is, although it is performed as a play, it is beautifully written poetry.”

“Staash likes.” He smiled after his fashion. “All humans like?”

“Some, not all.”

“Human Sakum’malien difference little. Staash like. Staash strange.”

“Being different is not a bad thing, Staash. I’ve been different for all my life. If you embrace the difference and use it do distinction others appreciate uniqueness – sometimes.”

Staash nodded. “Cristina smart.”

“I don’t know about that. I’m different, though.” She smiled.

“Humans more different, like Cristina better.”

She grappled with what he was attempting to convey, then having received a telepathic impression of his desired meaning, she grinned, “Thank you Staash. That is sweet. But I think if everyone was like me, the world would be pretty boring, wouldn’t it?”

“For Cristina, not others.”

She reached out and touched the rough surface of his head. “I have to get ready. We’re going to see if we can find Paul. You’ll be here by yourself.”

Staash nodded. “Watch, listen, learn.”

“You’re doing very well.”

By then Alix had finished taking care of part of his morning ritual. He was in the surveying the refrigerator for the makings of breakfast, something different than what they’d had before. Cristina joined him, kissing his cheek as she came up from behind.

“How’s our friend?”

“Learning a lot, actually.”

“From watching Shakespeare?” Having searched the cupboards as well, he assembled the ingredients for making pancakes.

“Actually, maybe that is the best way to begin to understand humans, at least our artistic side. That’s our best side, for certain.”

“He’s beyond most humans, then,” Alix said as he obtained a mixing bowl, a whisk and a large mixing spoon. “I remember suffering through Hamlet in school.”

“I had a very good teacher in high school. We studied the period of Shakespeare and Elizabethan culture. I think that’s the only way to bring it to life for someone.”

“Staash seems to be doing fine.”

“He knows it is poetry.”

Alix laughed. “That’s a good start. Okay, I’m taking care of breakfast for us. He’s going to be the challenge.”

“I have some ideas. I may need your help, though.”

“You go ahead and do what you need to do to get ready, I’ll do this and then we can eat. I’ll take my turn getting ready when you’re all done.”

She kissed him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, hon.”

By the time Cristina was partially ready for their outing, breakfast was served. When they were finished, Cristina opened the door to the attic and after a few minutes of exploring, she returned to ask for Alix’s assistance. “There is a bag of tile grout in there. I guess it’s putting tile on the bathroom walls. I don’t know how much Staash eats, but that is pretty-much exactly what he considers food.”

“Really?”

She nodded.

“I guess that would wake sense.”

“If you can bring it in and set it on the table. I’ll see if he needs anything else?”

After several minutes of a mental conversation, during which both Staash and Cristina nodded several times, Staash sat at the table. Using a ladle, she filled a bowl with grout and provided a serving spoon to the sand-morph. At first he looked at it. Mentally she provided him with instruction for the use of a spoon. He gurgled, which she had learned as a laugh. Then he leaned over the bowl and licked a rough-surfaced tongue into the contents. Then he looked up and nodded.

“Is it good?”

“Excellent.”

While Staash continued to eat, both Alix and Cristina finished getting ready. By then, they hard the tell-tale noises from the coffee shop indicating Arnie and Emma had arrived to begin their day.

“How are we going to break the news to them about Staash?” Alix asked.

“I’ll tell them we have a guest and he’s resting. That should cover us for the morning, anyway.”

“They’re going to want to meet him.”

“I want them to. They’ll be our first trial.”

“Are you serious?”

“The world needs to meet him sometime, right.”

Alix shrugged.

“It’ll be fine. You’ll see. Who wouldn’t love him. He even sort of resembles the stuff animal.”

“Maybe in a way. They’re almost the same color, anyway.”

Cristina explained to Staash once again what their plans were for the morning. “We’ll be back as soon as we can. Until then stay here and don’t go anywhere else. I’ll tell the people downstairs that you just arrived from Haven and you’re resting. They are very nice people. They won’t disturb you.”

“Staash watch.” He gestured toward the screen. “Hamlet next. I learn.”

“Yes, that is the best thing for you to do.”

Once Alix and Cristina were comfortable that Staash was safe and understood what was going on, they set out together, pausing briefly for Cristina to explain the cover story for Staash to Emma and Arnie. She told her that Staash had traveled all night and all day and needed some rest. Emma understood and even promised to be very careful of the noise in the kitchen with the pots and pans. Cristina said that Staash intended to sleep on the couch while having world viewer in the background as noise so that would cover the noise. Anyway the breakfast rush was about to begin and already the coffee shop had a few customers.

“Why will you be back?”

“Hopefully by noon.”

“I’ll make something for everyone to eat. I’m sure your guest will be hungry.”

“He just ate. I think he’ll sleep all morning, maybe into the afternoon.”

“I’ll make some sandwiches, and a fruit salad,” Emma said. “I’ll keep everything down here for your return.”

Cristina smiled. “You’re really too good to us.”

“You take care of what you have to do, honey. I’ll have something waiting for you when you return.”

It was a little more than a block to the Starport stop where they could board ‘the crosstown’ coach. From there, riding east to the far side southern part of the city, according to Raven, the place they were seeking was a quick walk directly south toward the edge of the dome.

Alix and Cristina rounded the corner of a building, the last one on the street before the intersection with the city’s ‘loop’, a thoroughfare wrapping around the entire city at the furthest extent of any commercial buildings. It was also the end of any private residences as only Colonial Authority complexes and public transportation buildings like the railcar stations could be constructed near the security track that was just inside the edge of the dome’s foundation.

The support columns for the dome itself were anchored deep into the ground within the security track and, for that reason alone, it was an area heavily defended against any potential sabotage or terrorist acts aimed at damaging the dome. Even if it had been decades since there was any suspected conspiracy against the basic structures or utilities of any city in the world the Colonial Authority continued stating the potential as a real concern. It was the justification for Security Agency’s existence as well as its expansion over the past few years.

Paranoia prevailed with the upper echelons of the Colonial Authority’s organizational structure. In the early days of Pravda, an attack on any of the dome supports might have ruptured a seal allowing massive amounts of di-hydrogen sulfide or even worse poisons into the city’s air supply. Although the risks breathing the air outside the dome was not as great anymore, security was still enforced with at least the same vigor. For most citizens, it was part of their reality and security concerns were well incorporated into their daily routine.

In the history of Pravda there had been few direct attacks on any of the cities’ dome structures, utilities or basic services. However, the same could not be said of other colonies. The Colonial Authority credited their preparation and expectations from the earliest days of the colonization of Pravda for the level of security and the maintenance of peace and order. Constant vigilance was cited as the reason the safety of all citizens.

As Alix crossed the loop directly behind Cristina, he studied the sprawling complex of the maximum-security compound for the local regiment of the Colonial Authority Peace Enforcement Division, an instrument of the Security Agency. It was an imposing edifice, a high fence circles – obviously electrified and crowned with spirals of razor-sharp, super-concertina wire. Between the outer and inner fences was a gap wide enough for security vehicles to patrol. The compounds secondary fence, though not electrified was crowed with the same razor wire as that used around the perimeter.

Within the double fence of the compound was the two-story building. On the roof at each corner of the rectangle and in the middle of each of the longer sides, were towers staffed with heavily armed guards. As Alix and Cristina observed, two guards with robotic ‘guard dogs’ passed one another at the apparent gates. Moments later other guards passed each other as well. This formidable fortress, somehow, they expected to enter.

Cristina appeared to be unfazed and undaunted. She confidently approached the outer security checkpoint and smiled as her eyes met those of the guard.

“State your business,” the guard challenged.

“I’m here to meet with a prisoner who may have information that is vital to my research.”

“Well that narrows it down a lot,” the guard said with some sarcasm. “Who’s he?” He asked as he indicated Alix.

“He’s my assistant,” Cristina said.

The guard presented an electronic pad for them to sign in and then he scanned their ID chips and the clearance came back positive.

He handed each of them a badge that clipped on to their garments. “Wear these temporary badges everywhere you go inside. There are some areas that are restricted beyond temporary badge access. You will need an administrator to escort you if you have to go there. Is that understood?”

“It’s normal procedure,” Cristina said.

“Most people with your level of clearance are used to it,” the guard said. Once Cristina and Alix had clipped on the badges, they were clicked through the small gate and descended a ramp into a tunnel that passed beneath the gap between the two fences. When they reached the far end, at the inner gate another guard checked their ID scan and their temporary badges, then once he was confident that everything was appropriate he clicked the lock and allowed them into the inner compound.

Cristina turned back to the guard, “I have never been here before. Is the administration office where it normally is?”

“I’m afraid this facility is the older design,” the guard said. “I have never seen the other facilities so I’m not sure what you are accustomed to. Go inside to the first door and the administration office is the third door to the right. I can call ahead if you are meeting someone in particular.”

“They’re expecting us,” Alix said.

“Good.” The guard smiled, allowing them to pass.

Cristina seemed perturbed at Alix. “What?” he turned to ask.

“I had him explaining everything,” Cristina whispered.

“You would not be here if someone did not know you were coming. Your asking about the layout inside was nearly suspect. Every one of these facilities is nearly identical. We lucked out that this one is a bit different.”

“How do you know that?”

Alix smiled, “I have friends who were not saints as kids and when they became adults they were incarcerated in facilities exactly like this.”

Cristina reached for the door handle but the door opened as someone was exiting the building. He gave a cursory scan to Alix and then to Cristina, not their temporary badges but he immediately held the door open for them. “Sometimes it’s a pain getting inside with the temporary badges,” he offered almost as an apology.

“We appreciate your help,” Alix said.

“No problem,” he said as he went on his way.

Once inside the outermost door, Alix grabbed Cristina’s shoulders from behind and turned her around, “You have not told me our plans.”

“I’ve been doing this on the fly.”

“Great!” he said with sarcasm.

“Do you have a better solution?”

“Look, at least I’ve been inside of one of these hellholes. Maybe I should take the lead.”

“Be my guest.”

“Come on,” he said as he removed his temporary badge and waved it across a scanner to open the inner security door. He pushed it open and held it for her to pass by. Then he escorted her into the administration office.

The desk attendant looked up at them as they entered. There was no enthusiasm and very little life expressed in her actions or her voice as she asked, “Can I help you?”

“You may,” Alix said, couching a correction of her grammar in his response, not that he expected her to pick up on it and subsequently put it to use. “We have questions that we need to ask one of your prisoners.”

“Inmate or detainee?” she asked.

“Detainee,” Alix said.

“Name?”

“Paul,” Cristina interjected. “ Scalero. Paul Scalero.”

She typed in the necessary information to locate the detainee then printed out a pass. “He is in Block 08, Section 092 on the second floor, cell number 467. This is a permit. Give this to the block guard and he will escort you to the cell.”

“Thank you,” Alix said.

“Don’t mention it,” the attendant said, flashing a smile as if she were flirting with him. Alix ignored the overture. Cristina did not.

Alix took the permit in hand and turned toward Cristina who was smiling even as she wrapped her arm around his. “You did that very well,” she said as they exited the office and went back into the hall.

“I paid attention every time I visited my friends.”

“Well, maybe you should lead on, then,” she said as they started down the hallway toward the central security checkpoint. Alix held up the pass there and was directed to an elevator for the second floor. When they arrived on the second floor they found the guard post for Block 08 and again presented the permit. They were clicked through to a staging area where another guard scanned them for weapons or contraband and then, along with a female guard for Cristina they frisked them. Finally they were passed through to Section 092, which was a special security area requiring them to be scanned again for anything sharp including plastic articles with sharp edges. Checked through, they were given an escort to cell number 467.”

The escort pressed a sequence of number then pressed his thumb into a scanner and the multiple locks of the door opened one after another. Automatically it swung back on its hinges to allow both Alix and Cristina to enter. “When you are ready to leave just say ‘we are ready to leave’. We monitor all conversations, of course.”

Cristina nodded. Alix vocalized his understanding with, “Fine.”

When the door was closed behind them Paul still sat precisely where he had before, staring at the wall, seemingly obviously to having another visitor.

Knowing to take care of what she said, she approached. She sensed he was heavily sedated, virtually unaware of their presences. Due to the electronic fields broadcast into the cell she needed to gain Paul’s attention, see his eyes, and have physical contact to have any hope of communicating telepathically with him. Thus far he was unaware of her. She sat across the table from him, taking his hand in hers, she projected a thought. Paul turned his dreary, drugged eyes toward her, fighting to perceive her through the mental haze. But at least he smiled, signaling he knew she was there.

“Are they beating you?” she projected her question into his mind.

After a few seconds she shook his head. “Beating, no.”

“I wish I could say it is good to see you,” she said aloud. “But not like this.”

“Under these circumstances I would prefer to be left alone.”

“We have retrieved a Sakum’malien,” Cristina projected. “That is what the sand-morphs call themselves.”

Paul showed no emotion, not even the mildest surprise.

“I thought it might change things, coming here,” she expressed verbally.

“You are well?”

“I can’t complain, but sometimes I still do,” Cristina responded.

“I don’t want to know what you plan to do. They will extract it from me eventually.” Paul said telepathically.

“I thought you should, though.”

Paul turned away. “Now you come here too. It is really very cruel.” Then added telepathically. “They sent mother here to try to convince me to cooperate with them.”

“Our mother?”

“She is alive; you didn’t know?”

“It’s good to see you, all the same,” he verbalized. “You look like her, you know.”

Cristina stared at him. “Are you certain it was her?”

“I was skeptical at first.” Then verbally, “Not that it really matters anymore.” He met his sister’s eyes. “I believe it was her. We embraced I felt the connection.”

“It always matters,” She spoke. Then silently continued. “Maybe they know how to fabricate something to compensate even for that emotional connection.”

“I guess I can still choose to believe what I want,” he said. “It was really her.”

Cristina nodded. “Why the suspicion of lies? Why conceal her from us for all this time?”

“You tell me.” He turned away. “Obviously, you know more about what’s going on than I do. You have at least some granted access.”

“Is that what you believe?”

“How else could you get the necessary permissions to be here?”

Cristina looked at Alix, “He is the one who made it possible.”

Paul grabbed her hand again. “To retrieve one of the sand-morphs?”

“Yes.”

“I suppose I should be considerate and express some sort of gratitude.”

“I expect nothing,” Alix said.

“Then you will never be disappointed,” Paul said. “Well, at least now there is some kind of proof.”

“It changes everything.”

“It changes nothing,” Paul reacted. The he responded, “My arraignment is next week. I’m to be charged with multiple assaults, batteries, and murders – oh and also sedition, treason and a possible terrorism charge thrown in for good measure, to justify things they did to me before. Perhaps they’ll throw in some unsolved mysteries. Pinning anything on me should be easy.’

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m destined to be the fall guy, the fundamental and necessary scapegoat. As prisoners go, I’m the pick of the litter. Whoever prosecutes me will earn bonus points for every charge successfully brought to conviction.” He paused to project. “Of course nothing will ever be offered in evidence about the torture that prompted my extreme response. No one will ever enter as evidence that I could have killed everyone but did not. I demonstrated amazing restraint, really.”

“Of course, they won’t allow that.”

“Only those who fired a weapon at me were attacked. Some died. I never wanted to kill anyone, but some people don’t deserve to live.”

“That’s not your judgment to make.”

“They invited the evil, it consumed them and eventually claimed them,” Paul said.  “Those who directly participated in my torture were killed. I even spared harming one agent because he was sympathetic to me after he understood what had been done to me. He was instrumental in my escape and so I did not harm him. I refuse to identify him or state the level of assistance he provided. It would be tantamount to ratting him out to the authorities – the only saint amongst all the legions of demons. He was the only one who seemed to have a real, beating heart inside of his chest. The rest were cruel and evil. That was how I dealt with the mass number of deaths.”

“Killing is never justified.”

“The world is a better place without the ones who died.”

“I want to help you but you are giving me very little to play with,” Cristina said.

“You expect a miracle? Maybe that’s why they sent mother here. She was supposed to persuade me into compromising, working a deal so they could spare my miserable life to exist in a cell like this one death comes borne of my nature and releases me from their prison. I have been at odds with my nature for longer than I have the Colonial Authority – all my life, in fact. This is nothing new and certainly there is a case for it being anticipated all along. I will never escape this hellhole or the solitary confinement that has been interrupted by mother’s visit and your coming here. Otherwise my only company had been the barber.”

“The barber?” Alix asked.

“It is what they call the new chief interrogator, the replacement for the one who – let’s say he – passed on. He takes his orders from someone higher up the food chain than anyone in this city. I have to say, he’s good, damned good. He works with a sharp razor,” Paul said as he pulled up his sleeves and pants legs to show the scars, some of them so very fresh that blood was still seeping into the bandages. “He has had me to the point of considering telling everything just to be able to die, just to have him drag his razor across my throat, severing my jugular. But I refuse to let him or anyone associated with them win. If they kill me, so be it. I will never betray anyone even though someone, at least one of my friends has obviously betrayed me.”

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The Resurrection: Chapter 18 – Unexpected Resurrection

**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 would not be an easy thing to conceal a Sakum’malien. Slahl’yukim was large by human standards. Not so much that he was tall as he was broad and as his body, to a large degree, consisted of silicon so his body had greater mass for its relative volume.

Bringing him back with them proved to be the simplest part of the task of integrating him into a future world that was the domain of humans. The three of them interlocked hands and for Alix it was really not more difficult than bringing Cristina along on his previous shifts.

They arrived almost exactly where he and Cristina had left, within a few centimeters actually. Dom’s calculations have been that precise. Alix was as duly impressed as he had been when they arrived in the past fairly close to a cave entrance where sand-morphs dwelled. Alix suspected Dom had his own agenda that was apart from Raven’s plans or anyone else’s for that matter. He could not quite peg Dom, except to say the android was not exactly what he seemed.

Cristina looked up at the estates’ bell rope. Alix didn’t need telepathy to tell what she was thinking. He reached up to tug on the rope. “He’ll be pissed because we probably just left.”

“Dom’s cordial, always. Anyway these are his coordinates,” Alix said. “We’re here on his schedule.”

He sensed Cristina was going to seek Raven’s advice if not help. Alix did not want to endure another session with Raven and really could not believe that Cristina did either. What they did was completely and utterly against what Raven believed was important. Why would he help them?

Yet there she was on the front porch, Slahl’yukim standing between her and Alix, looking around at the world, seeing it in the darkness. He started to disengage from their hands to go explore. Cristina must have communicated with him telepathically.

Did they do the right thing? Alix wondered. Slahl’yukim was lost and alone. He was bonding with Cristina, something that bothered Alix even if he refused to call it jealousy as the sand-morph had accused. Alix understood that he and Cristina were the alien’s only friends and only link to anything. Of course he would bond with her, become attached to her and she would tolerate him. Still it was disturbing.

When Alix had agreed to this adventure it was a very different situation. The story was very different as well. Now he understood that the Sakum’malien were not different from the humans. Both were invaders of the same world, competitors for the very same space. Humans won that contest. What was wrong and very different from the official story was that it now seemed apparent to Alix that the first humans had to know the Sakum’malien were there. The over-pressurizing of the caverns was defeated, something that was never reported.

Now it seemed it was even more of a conspiracy than anyone imagined. No wonder there was so much energy and effort expended to conceal the darkness of the human hearts who initiated the terraforming of Pravda. The pristine beauty promised was a distant dream. Perhaps all along, it was an unachievable lie. There would ever be the taint of the evil the first humans perpetrated against an alien race. The first alien race encountered as a direct result of their explorations humans exterminated.

Was colonizing Pravda that important to mankind’s survival? Was it worth the effort in light of the declining fertility rates and the inevitable extinction of mankind? Would mankind survive on the world they stole so violently as to terminate an entire race that was here before any human? What difference did it make that they were not indigenous? They were essentially transforming the world to suit their life form just as the humans were intending to do for the purposes of mankind.

Alix tugged n the bell rope again. Slahl’yukim kept looking around, touching surfaces and analyzing everything – like a kid, exploring.

Alix could appreciate the Sakum’malien was overwhelmed with the wonders of what he was seeing  – all of it very strange. He was intimidated, even frightened. There was so much around him that he did not understand. A couple of humans led him into a world dominated by humans, a world in which he was one of a kind. Knowing what humans did to his kind, he was one brave fellow.

The door opened and Dom tilted his head to one side.

“We’re back.”

Dom nodded. “You are late.”

“Well, we have been waiting here for a while,” Alix said.

“Welcome back,” he said even as he looked at the Sakum’malien. “As much as he does not wish to be disturbed, the Master must be alerted as to what you and Alix have accomplished.” Then he opened the door and bade them to remain in the foyer. Alix hurried toward the threshold as Dom held the front door open for him. “I trust the coordinates were sufficient.”

“They were impeccable,” Alix said. “As well you know.”

Dom even appeared to be resisting the urge to smile as he turned away and escorted Cristina to seek out Raven and his approval for audience.

Alix remained behind with Slahl’yukim. He did not enjoy his recent secondary importance to Cristina, but there was not much he could do. He understood the overall objective. He was not sure how they were going to pull it off but he knew he had to help Cristina.

Cristina was able to communicate directly with the sand-morph without any words. Perhaps she had explained Raven as best she could and the estate he lived in, as well as the conditions of the outside world. All along Slahl’yukim was rapidly acquiring the nuances of human language from her.

A few moments after Cristina had followed Dom down the hall toward Raven’s study, Slahl’yukim turned toward Alix and startled him. “Thank your understanding. Cristina special.”

“Yes, she is.”

“Learn quickly speak, not good yet,” he said. “Cristina teacher good.”

Alix looked into his eyes. “You understand what’s happening now?”

“Know happened. Understanding different. Some humans accept tragedy. Some not. You and Cristina want correct wrong. Slahl’yukim want change past.”

“We understand that. But changing the past changes our world, too. Perhaps we would not be together. Maybe we would not even be alive.”

Slahl’yukim forced the odd gesture of a nod he learned from Cristina. Alix assumed he intended it to mean the same thing it did for humans.

“There’s been a cover-up all along. I think most humans would not want what was done to have ever happened. But they were held in ignorance,” Alix said.

“She explain,” he said. “Want me speak tragedy my kind. Efforts impact short desire.”

“Cristina’s brother is imprisoned for his views and his desire to resurrect your kind from oblivion.”

“She explain much. I understand some. Do not understand dead to life. Maybe works humans. Not understand how.”

“We cannot bring our own kind back from the dead, But Paul, Cristina’s brother, and their organization believe it’s possible because your life form does not deteriorate after death as rapidly as ours and many of your kind were meticulously preserved in sealed coffins when they were discovered.”

“Know kill us, preserve us, why?”

“Not everyone knew. Someone discovered bodies and named you sand-morphs, because you were mostly sand by appearance and on the sensors that they used to probe for life forms. Yet you kind of had bodies.”

“How many preserve?”

“I don’t know. Paul would have better knowledge of that. I would guess thousands. But it could be more or less.”

“Intend parade embarrass authorities.”

“We don’t want this to become a circus. We want this to be meaningful and have a lasting impact.”

“Thank,” Slahl’yukim said. “Go back when?”

“When there’s been significant change and an interest in your form of life.”

“If not happen, then still go back?”

“I could take you back to die among your friends. I can take you back to before we met even, so maybe you would never know. I’m not sure how would work, but maybe it could happen. You would not know that five days later you and all of those around you would be dead.”

“Stay here one my kind.”

“Did you have a mate?”

“No one. Shun Slahl’yukim. Outcast, exile, heretic, poet, evil thoughts.”

“You should try writing music here, then. It sounds like you might fit in,” Alix laughed.

“You popular?”

“Me, not hardly. I was always shy. I mean, I perform on stage and all that, but I’m not the focus. Cristina’s the star.”

“She should.”

Alix laughed. “She’s amazing, by the way.”

“Suspect,” Slahl’yukim said. “Lucky human she loves.”

Alix smiled. “I must have a charmed life even if, lately, it has not seemed that way.”

“Intelligence, exotic. Touch mind not resist. Captive attention.”

“She has that gift and can do that to men on many levels.”

Slahl’yukim glowed, “Man that way least. Slahl’yukim too.”

Dom emerged from Raven’s study and waved toward Alix for them to advance. When Slahl’yukim and Alix passed through the door Dom closed it behind him, remaining outside.

“So this is what you’ve done,” Raven said to Alix. “You’ve circumvented the whole issue of resurrecting a demon from the past by just going there and capturing one.”

“Not capture,” Slahl’yukim said. “Come with.”

“He speaks?” Raven laughed, and then turned to accuse Cristina. “You taught him some words in English but not Italian?”

“You don’t speak Italian very well. I am sure he can render things as different languages like humans do. To him all human languages that I know would seem to be as one.”

“So this was the plan all along. Get the reclusive Raven involved in current world affairs.”

“No condemn Cristina. Intentions pure. Me no otherwise here .”

“The purity of her intentions is never in question,” Raven responded. “It’s the wisdom of her judgment that baffles me.”

Raven came forward and studied the alien for a few moments, but then he turned to Cristina and said, “If this is not handled right the Colonial Authority will discredit everything and put both you and Alix in prison. Likely as not, they would execute this alien. Worst case they would study him to excess and then execute him later on.”

“No kill me,” Slahl’yukim said.

Raven focused on the sand-morph’s apparent eyes for a moment. Afterwards he stepped back. “Cristina tells me you are a poet?”

“Yes.”

“I’m a writer but I suck at writing poetry,” Raven said. “I revere poets. I write non-fiction and histories, stories that are long enough to fill a book. I’m sure you are struggling to relate to something comparable in your experience.”

“Comparable. More successful. Poets rare find success.”

“Then the artistic community between our kinds does not differ all that much.

“Make world and characters pretend real.”

“You are able to create pictures in minds with words alone.”

“Poet emotion, moments capture.”

“Poets have a gift with words. Writers have a knack or maybe a talent if they are lucky,” Raven said.

Slahl’yukim glanced to Cristina while non-verbally communicating that he was uncomfortable in the radiant heat of the immediate environment. He claimed that it was too hot and far too dry, something that she found ironic considering his nature until she considered that they both shared the same, common essential component of life. For Slahl’yukim, to be absent of water was to revert to sand. For humans it was to revert to dust.

“That can be adjusted,” Cristina promised.

Raven seemed to have picked up on the non-verbal communication and poured out a glass of water for each of his guests. “It’s mostly cold. Dom brought it recently. I’m not sure whether your kind prefers water cold, warm or even hot,” Raven said.

“As offered,” Slahl’yukim said. “Any way.”

“I must say that Cristina has performed a miracle in such a short time teaching you many words of English.”

“He was a most willing pupil,” Cristina responded.

“Most non-native speakers consider English a difficult language to acquire. Many native speakers fail to acquire it fully,” Raven said.

“My language she gifted. Do no less learn hers.”

Raven smiled. “She has empathic and telepathic abilities.”

“No know terms.”

“She can feel what you feel and think what you think.”

Slahl’yukim smiled broadly. “Like me.” Then he glanced at her. She stood there being impatient and unappreciative of Raven’s comments.

Raven stared into his eyes then immediately rebuffed the alien’s fifth attempt to probe his mind. “Some humans will be weak or not even be aware of your attempts. Others of us will never permit it.”

“Understood,” Slahl’yukim said.

“The real reason any of us are here now is that we need to have a plan,” Cristina said.

“How are we going to break the news to the world?” Alix asked.

“More relevantly how do you break the news without having the Colonial Authority quash the effort?” Raven posed.

“This is a significant event. It is newsworthy and relevant,” Cristina stated.

“But no one wants to hear about it unless it is pitched to them in a personally relevant way,” Alix said.

“You understand the problem,” Raven said.

“I get it,” Alix said. “I really do. Most people don’t care about anything that’s going on around them as long as it doesn’t directly impose on their immediate plans of their overall life.”

“I believe you really do understand people,” Raven said.

“We need to focus on the entertainment value, the shock value, the potential to gather an audience and then we pitch for the mass support.”

Cristina smiled with pride as Alix demonstrated his level of enlightenment about managing the mass media.

“It will be a challenge. He’s newsworthy. Maybe he’s relevant. Most people are never going to relate to him or the story, though.”

“That’s why we transform the news into an event,” Cristina said.

“Well, despite the difficulty of your adventure and your best intentions, what you have done is create a circus sideshow: The Last Living Sand-morph. I’m sure he does not want to endure that moniker for the rest of his life.”

“All I wanted to do was show the world that the Colonial Authority has lied to us,” Cristina said.

“And that’s the reason your brother killed many, many agents?” Raven asked. “That’s the real issue you’re up against.”

“It was the Colonial Authority’s intransigence and lack of integrity in adherence to the regulations for creating a habitable world and the cover up that ensued.”

“That’s why Paul killed agents?”

“That’s where it began,” Cristina said.

“It’s far too complicated. The reason has to be pithy for the masses to understand it.”

“It was kill of be killed.”

“That’s cliché, but more along the lines of what you need.”

“I just know the truth. Paul killed to prevent further brutality in his interrogation and those of others. The agents routinely torture prisoners to obtain information,” Cristina said.

“I know that. He knows it. You know it. Alix knows. Hell, everyone who had ever been interrogated knows. The problem is how do you prove it and how do you get the message out to the masses?” Raven asked. “The Colonial Authority has no interest in giving you a forum for your message.”

“Look, I want to save Paul but at this point I do not know whether that is even possible. He has reached the bedrock of the pit he has dug for himself. And yet he continues to dig,” Raven said.

“Do you know where they will keep him once he is recaptured?”

“That inevitability already occurred, sometime yesterday.”

“No, you’re confused. We broke him out earlier today.”

“No that was two days ago.”

“What?”

“Dom must have given us coordinates so we could catch back up with when we should have been here…”

Raven shook his head. “You should pay more attention if you’re going to be traveling in time and space. It’s a big universe out there. It’s easy to get lost. I should know.”

“We have to free him again,” Cristina said.

“There won’t be another chance, I’m afraid.”

“We have to save his life.”

“When he escaped from their central detention center,” Raven said. “Considering the other related news about systems shutting down and remaining disabled for sometime, I suspected you and Alix. When he was recaptured I would suspect he’d be taken to their maximum-security facility. It is on the southeastern side of town very close to the dome maintenance track.”

Cristina glanced toward Alix.

“The walls of that prison have all sorts of electromagnetic scramblers to defeat any sort of surveillance device,” Raven said. “I believe you will find that it thwarts your abilities as well and in a way far more overwhelming than at the detention facility.”

Slahl’yukim reached for the pitcher of water and poured himself another glass. After he consumed it he complained. “Here killing me.”

“You prefer the cool dampness of a cavern,” Raven said.

“You no would?” Slahl’yukim responded.

Raven stared at Cristina. “He’s your charge now. You have to take care of him. Our world is as alien to him as his nature is to us. It’s increasingly more obvious by the moment that he cannot remain here.”

“But you have not told me how to break the news.”

“Am I the repository of all relevant knowledge in the world? I don’t think so. You have done something without my knowledge and certainly it is something I would have never approved. Everything before was up to you and now this must be the same way. I do not want to be involved.”

“You don’t understand,” Cristina said.

“I assure you I do. I fully understand why you did what you did and I appreciate the enormity of this accomplishment. But everything needs to be planned and the timing must be perfect to ever have the effect you intend. For that, you’ll need patience. You need to dig down deep inside and find wherever you have hidden yours.”

“We can’t exactly walk around with him and not expect to have some questions.”

“I suppose not,” Raven said. “I used to be a lot heavier when I was younger. I’m sure I have a hooded trench coat in my closet that will fit him.”

“That would be perfect.”

“The only issue you will have is his ID and payment wand. Dom can do something for him. The problem is that even if Dom implants a microchip the scan also checks for pulse. It is something that dates back to terrorist infiltration during the clone uprising. Dead clones were routinely used to obviate security measures. There are ways of defeating the check. For example, I have traveled with Dom who obviously does not have a human pulse. When his ID was scanned we were able to clear security simply because I was holding on to his wrist. The device picked up my pulse rate and accepted it as the primary.”

“Makes you feel really safe, doesn’t it?” Alix commented.

“Despite the failing, the bureaucracy still insists it is necessary to check for pulse. It is a perfect example of how some security measures are thought through completely but others are not,” Raven said. “Regardless of that, anything anyone ever comes up with can be defeated provided there’s enough time, energy and resourcefulness.”

“So we can travel with Slahl’yukim,” Cristina said. “Even outside of the city.”

“What’s wrong with breaking the news here?” Raven asked.

“I would rather be in New Milan or Andromeda,” Cristina said.

“I thought the whole point of doing this was to free Paul.”

Slahl’yukim reached for the pitcher of water again and poured himself another glass with the last available water in the pitcher.

“Freeing Paul is part of the point. Maybe it was the major point at first but things have changed. We know things that we did not know before.”

“Like the Sakum’malien are not indigenous,” Raven said.

“Exactly,” she said.

“Still, they were here first,” Alix said.

“‘Finders keepers’ expire sometime after childhood ends,” Raven said. “Besides, the Colonial Authority is not going to respond well to the presence of a living sand-morph.”

“They won’t like the exposure of the truth about the origins of our existence on Pravda,” Cristina said.

“That’s a given,” Raven said. “But the news is not anything that the mainstream public would suspect. The authorities have kept very tight controls on the information and imprisoned anyone credible with the desire to divulge the secret.”

“It is not going to be easy for them to discount the preponderance of evidence,” Alix said.

“But you need to present the evidence before they arrest you and Cristina.”

“I have not done anything like this before,” Alix said.

“The world as we know it is about to change,” Cristina said. “The truth could bring down the Colonial Authority.”

“Which should not be the goal at all,” Raven said.

“Why not?”

“What do you replace their authority with?” Raven asked. “There’s no alternative to fill the power vacuum. Despite the negative aspects of their governing, they represent order and stability. Without them there would be anarchy and chaos. Even their tyranny is preferable to the alternative of a world without an organized government and structure.”

“Maybe it will only be embarrassment that they suffer,” Alix said.

“Until then we have to duck under the scanner net and remain out of sight as much as possible,” she said.

“Yes,” Raven said. “That’s the immediate challenge.”