Elysium Shining
by
Terri Kraemer
[ 01]
His forehead and eyes stung in equal measure. He wheezed. It had been a long night, but at least the world wasn’t burning. His breath came, and, for a moment, each new one felt like the first. Each breath felt so right, even if his chest was heavy. Dylan concentrated on those breaths for a time as he became more aware of everything at a slow, steady rate.
“Doctor,” a soft, male voice said, “the patient is gaining consciousness.”
A more seasoned voice, belonging to a woman still unseen, said, “That’s good, young laeknar. How are her signs?”
“Most wounds have recovered fully, but a few burns and lacerations remain to be mended completely. I am showing minor trauma at this stage as well, with possibility of diminishment.”
“She needs more time, but we’re making good progress. Use the tranquilizer – 5cc.”
Dylan attempted to protest, but his struggle was hopeless as soon as something small touched his arm. He couldn’t even see it. Before his vision faded away, a single bright light was fully visible, and even its outline turned to black as whatever entered his system took hold.
* * *
Das’ithrios walked past the sliding door into the dean’s office. Strange; he still had no idea what this was about, but Das’ithrios came regardless, expecting an earful for something he didn’t know was wrong.
Once he was a comfortable distance from the dean’s desk, Das’ithrios said, “You wished to see me, sir?”
Dean Paen slid a sealed folder across the desk. He said, “I have been advised that you, like your parents, are to be notified of the contents within this document. I have been given less than half a page of information, but information classified top secret is being given to your family.”
“I’m not sure I understand, sir.”
“I’m not sure any of us will even after you read this. You have been requested to board a shuttle bound for the Marslou. Apparently it involves a young woman that has appeared and is receiving care from the laeknir aboard. I am not to take any sort of ‘no’ for an answer, they said; the shuttle leaves in under three hours.”
Das’ithrios peeked inside of the folder. The Marslou wanted him and his family aboard because of someone they’d found? The last he had heard, because of the news stations, was that the interstellar peacekeeping ship was investigating a dangerous plot involving the insurgent cultists.
He was curious to see if anything immediately visible inside the folder could give him an idea as to what this was all about, or if this was some sort of joke or test. There was a photo of what appeared to be a woman on a medical bed, but Das’ithrios couldn’t yet make out her appearance aside from light-skinned ankles; not without extracting everything from the folder to get a better look.
The dean cleared his throat.
“Ah, yes, sir,” Das’ithrios said. “I’ll be on my way.”
* * *
Dylan opened his eyes and breathed in the pleasant air again. The breathing sensation no longer felt new, which was a shame. His chest still felt weighted, however. At least his head felt normal.
Normal . . . He ran a hand through his hair to find that it was much longer and softer than he remembered. It was also not the same color as before.
Someone in a uniform, unique to where he was but comparable to other people in the room, walked over to Dylan as he sat up with a start. The weight on his chest shifted. He looked down the gown he was wearing and barely saw the mounds of flesh that were there. They were small, but there was no denying what they were, given their shape and how sensitive they felt. There was no denying what else was different, either, despite not looking down that far. He wanted to believe that this was a dream. It had to be one, but this change was as palpable as it was real.
He breathed. His breaths became harder and shallower. One more person walked over to him who then rested a hand on his shoulder.
What had happened? How did any of this happen?
Imagery swirled and blended before him. Dylan saw his prior exit from his uncle’s house as he went for a walk. He saw three thugs in strange gear inside of a convenience store. There was a fire and then an additional combustion. Pain and darkness swallowed him whole, and now he was in an unfamiliar room, his body numb aside from a growing chill. Every time he sought warmth, the images of that fire returned.
The pattern of torment went on until someone came and wrapped a soft object of some sort around Dylan’s backside and stood before him. It was a man with hair the color of rosewood, eyes shining green beyond their sad expression, and ears pointed at the end like some fantastical being. The young man used his hands to rub Dylan’s forearms through the blanket.
“It’s OK,” the rosewood-haired man said. “Everything is fine now.”
His calm words brought Dylan back into reality, or wherever this was. Dylan looked around the room now. Nearly everyone had the same pointed ears while a few did not. The man who had aided him mere seconds ago was the only one who seemed to be wearing an entirely different attire from the others.
Dylan said, “Who . . . ? Are you Vulcan?” He swallowed as his voice sounded much softer than expected.
Everyone in the room glanced at one another. One person scratched their head.
The man who had aided Dylan through his shock said, “Who is this Vulcan you speak of? Are you not Il’lyse?”
Dylan gathered this was a hospital of some sort—given the light colors and the machine monitoring his vitals through a series of wireless bands—even if the design of the room was well beyond his imagining. He took a moment to marvel at the bands on his smoother, more slender arms and legs than he could remember having until now. Another such band sat on his head with the aid of what he guessed to be hairpins on either side when he felt them with his fingers.
A door slid open. The door’s sound was similar to sands falling through an hourglass, and then that hourglass coming down upon a solid surface. Two more people with pointy ears walked in. The woman’s face put her easily in her twenties, if Dylan was going by human standards, but strands of gray flowed among her rosewood hair. The man standing with her had dark brown hair, but it was clear that they were together as they grasped one another’s hand.
“Is she?” the new woman asked. “Could our daughter have returned to us?”
The world was on the verge of spinning again. Dylan fought off the sensation. He realized that he needed to speak up. He needed answers as much as everyone else.
Dylan said, “I’m sorry. I don’t even know what is happening to me. My name is Dylan Wilde. Unless this is some strange joke, I’m from a world called Earth. What happened to my body? And how is it we’re all speaking English?”
He was met with dead silence, surrounded by so many stunned faces waiting for another ball to drop.
[ 02]
Planet Earth. Das’ithrios looked at the new pictures taken of the planet where Dylan had been rescued. This revelation was a far cry from the catalog of suggested names, let alone its designation “sa-Gir-2-V-n-3: p-3-c-D.” Now Das’ithrios looked up at the large screen in the waiting area of the Medical Bay, musing over these other names, in an attempt to distract himself from the arguing going on in the next room.
Behind him, the young woman who resembled his sister sat on a sofa against the adjacent wall. Her expression was one of a traveler lost in a sea of stars, if the stars each resembled a thought so far out of reach. Dylan once again rubbed the tip of her ear while looking in the mirror that rested upon the coffee table.
The young woman used to be a man until she appeared on this ship. There were so many changes she now had to become used to, at least until they reached a facility equipped to
change her back. She spoke their language, save for an unknown number of words at that moment, and needed an explanation as to how that was possible. Much was explained, more than Dylan could absorb, and far more than she could explain, herself.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “You must hate me right now.”
Das’ithrios responded, “Hardly. Things are complicated, awkward . . .”
“And painful? I think your mom said something about your sister returning. I look like her apparently, and yet she’s gone, from what I can tell. How long ago did she leave?”
“It’s been two revolutions of your Earth’s orbit, whatever you call it. She died. It was a terrible accident.”
“Two years? How old was she?”
“Curious. Well, I suppose we were both about nineteen by your reckoning; ‘years,’ you call it?” Dasos was sure he heard or read the word somewhere before, but the alliances of planets in the known galaxy elected to use the expression he was more familiar with.
“Both of you? Are twins common among your race? Or ours I guess?”
“No, it’s not common among Aelfs at all.”
“I can’t even imagine losing one sibling. I never had any brothers or sisters. Having a twin, though? That has to hurt more than dying, yourself.”
“It did.”
They fell silent and stared at the table, which was metallic with two panels on top that were filled with glass plates. If the level of awkwardness were a tangible thing, it might have been able to break the same piece of furniture under its weight. The shouts in the next room sure added to it.
Then Dylan did something Das’ithrios didn’t expect from anyone other than his long-lost sister. She grasped her waist with one hand, extended the other, palm-side up, and aimed a remark at the direction of the door to the other room.
“Someone’s passionate as fuck in there,” she said.
Das’ithrios chuckled, not really paying attention to the ship’s crew member that had walked into the room during that moment. However, the new visitor made a highly audible and familiar gasp. He looked over, and saw an old friend staring right at Dylan.
* * *
Dylan saw the woman who entered the room. Instead of pointed elf ears, she had a pair of elongated, hairy ones like a rabbit. Had it not been for those, Dylan would have sworn she was looking at a human from eastern Asia.
The rabbit woman shot expressions at Das’ithrios and back at Dylan before saying, “She looks so much like Il’lyse.”
“That she does,” Das’ithrios agreed.
“I had heard rumors about the patient here, but I had no idea. I hadn’t really come down here until now. It couldn’t be, though, could it?”
“No, and I’m not sure an ensign should be here right now. Tonny, what are you doing here?”
“That’s Tong-Chang, or Ensign Leezu. I’m on assignment, silly.”
“I don’t mean what you’re doing on this ship. I mean here, now. This section of the Medical Bay was cordoned off by the Marslou’s security.”
“Yes, like I said, I’m on assignment. I was assigned to Admiral Fjorfolia and his wife, among my other usual duties. The Lady Fjorfolia needed me to check on the admiral, but his cellular communicator is turned off. She didn’t give me a reason that I could share with anyone but her husband.”
“Well, I guess you’re out here with us unless you want to head back and wait for us to complete a few Delta Warp Thrusts, because something tells me they’re still going to be arguing for a while.”
As soon as he said that the door to the next room opened. Das’ithrios and Tong-Chang stood immediately at attention, their arms poised for what Dylan guessed was a salute. She wasn’t in the military, or anything resembling it, but she summoned enough strength to her legs to join in on the gesture. She stood up straight and brought her right fist to her left shoulder.
“Oh, at ease,” said the bunny-eared gentleman that was first to walk into the corridor. His outfit marked him as someone of a great position and rank. “At ease, everyone, especially you, young lady.”
Dylan nodded to him and relaxed more than the other two people in the room so far. As she did so, several others spilled through the doorway including Das’ithrios’s parents. The way that the young man and his parents smiled to one another made Dylan envious of them for having that much. Would she have the right to yearn for a place among them? She didn’t know. The man called Admiral Fjorfolia, who stood before her, and Dylan didn’t think he could give that answer either.
Admiral Fjorfolia looked up and down Dylan’s barely dressed form, and left to right, before nodding and turning to Tong-Chang.
“Was there something you needed, ensign?” he asked.
Tong-Chang said, “Lady Fjorfolia has a message for you that I am to share on our way back to your quarters, sir.”
“I’m certain that will be fine. We’ll be along in a moment. Now then, ladies and gentlemen, I’m expecting good news by the time we return to either Elysium IX or the nearest space station, and part ways. That is, unless, you have any objections in leaving this ‘Earth’ behind?”
He and others in the room were looking at Dylan. She shook her head at them, despite reservations. The lack of protest surprised even her until she thought about it. What did she have to go back to?
“You don’t have to be so brave,” the admiral said.
Dylan said, “I’m not. This seems like the best thing to do. That’s all.”
“The best thing, really? Would that we had this insight for the past hour or more. What brings you to this conclusion?”
“I have no real family on Earth, sir. My mother is a con artist who’s escaped prison on two occasions. Her brother is supposed to be my guardian, but he sits at home, watches television all day and night when he isn’t working at a lumberyard, and berates me for trying to have a decent education. My father is a scientist, but once set his apartment on fire while trying to care for a baby doll in preparation for trying to raise me; hence custody was given to my uncle.
“When I was transported onto this ship I think I was supposed to have died. Aside from a few friends, I have no life waiting for me back on Earth. I just . . . I’m alive now, but not in my old body. How did this happen?”
The admiral said “Oh, you have my sympathies. We are still looking into the cause. You have my word on that.”
“Back home, back on Earth I mean, there are stories like this. So many of them are impossible, maybe all of them. Never once did I imagine I’d wake up in a girl’s body instead of the one I was born with.”
“You were a boy? Well, if the laeknir all agree with the necessary assessments, I’m sure they can help you if you so choose to change back once we’re back in our own system. Our top laeknar here will need to run a few tests on you over the next couple weeks. Oh, that was in general to monitor your health given the nature of where you come from and how you came to us.”
“Luck-near, huh?”
Admiral Fjorfolia laughed with a fist over his mouth. He walked back toward Tong-Chang, and stopped for a moment.
“Captain Druvvin,” he said, “I return your ship and its presence to you. Ensign, you may lead on.”
Das’ithrios whispered to his parents a moment later, but his mother raised a hand to stop him. His father said something about including her, nodding to Dylan. The three of them joined around her, and they sat on the sofas.
The older gentleman said, “Before we say anything else, I want to apologize. You might have heard some muffled shouts and screams from inside the other room. One of the topics up for discussion is whether or not you are a spy, our daughter, or somehow both. Both your testimony and the circumstances suggest a negative to either count, but we are still reaching that agreement.”
“I’d be double-oh-crap as a spy,” Dylan remarked. The trio around her glanced at her hand gestures and back at her face. “What?”
“Are you sure you’re not Il’lyse?” the mother asked.
“I’m rea
lly not, I’m sorry.”
“No, I suppose not. A mother is supposed to know her own child. I will say you look too much like her, and you have a few of her mannerisms down as well. I swear the universe is playing a cruel joke on me for something I don’t understand.”
“Das’ithrios told me there was some accident that took her from all of you. Would you mind if I asked what it was?”
“You may. She had a rebellious streak, like any teenager might. One day, she stole a shuttle to go on a date with someone we didn’t approve of, but there was a storm. She tried to take shelter by the largest asteroid she could reach. The shuttle was obliterated, and no one could save her or the man that was with her. We spent many weeks in denial over it. Some days that denial comes back to haunt us.”
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