by RobCharters
The Zondon
by robby charters
Copyright 2002 by robby charters
Also by Robby Charters:
Eetoo
The Story of Saint Catrick
The Wrong Time
Allegory
Pepe
Available at ReadersEden.com
www.tinyurl.com/pepe-the-novel
Find more information at:
bobcharters.blogspot.com
Prologue - The Zondon
The seven Zondon lounged about their craft, visible to one another by the light of the fast approaching stars that glistened in their compound eyes, barely outlining their robed exoskeletons. No matter which direction they faced, the clear walls gave them an unobstructed view of the galaxy.
Phondesh, sat more or less in the middle, facing forward, minding an array of crystals that floated in front of him. One of these, he moved this way or that every so often, or else turned it on its axis ever so slightly, to change the course of the ship, to counteract the tidal pull of dark matter, or divert the course around dense areas, especially around the galaxy's centre.
The seven watched as more stars came within viewing range; some apparently jumping out from behind patches of dark matter (the illusion caused by dense gravity bending the light towards itself); then over there, a nebula appearing to change shape like an amoeba, as their angle of view changed; closer by, the dance of a binary star with its black-hole-twin, producing a magnificent spiral of light; then more stars, more stellar clusters, and in the distance, a quasar blinking its ultraviolet rays at them.
Each star expressed its own uniqueness. Some shone a love for truth, others of knowledge, beauty, liberty and other virtues in varying measures. All shared an intense love of life in whatever form it exists. Thus knowing each star, no Zondon ever got lost in their part of the galaxy.
But this was not familiar space. All they could do here was gaze, while the stars appeared to look back at them with equal curiosity. There was a sense that they had paused in their conversations to take a look at the strange vessels that had intruded into their sector of the galaxy -- this one and the one in pursuit.
Even as they gazed, the seven were well aware of their situation. This was anything but an exploration party. It was a mission, the success of which would affect the well being of each star, indeed, of every planet and comet, and each moon and asteroid. Already the mission was in jeopardy.
Not being distracted by what was behind, Phondesh maintained his focus straight ahead. He noted a stellar cluster appearing and tilted the control crystal so that the ship changed direction and sped towards it.
The others followed his gaze.
Drovshi spoke up: 'I recognise none of those stars, not even from the knowledge caches.'
'I know of them only as landmarks,' responded Phondesh, again adjusting the course. 'My instructions indicate it is here we must pull into a wide orbit. If you measure the arc we're in now, you should see it at the centre.'
'Ahh,' said both Drovshi and Draz at once.
'That star I know,' said Draz, 'from my training.'
'The knowledge caches contain extensive information about it,' said Zikh.
Indeed, it was the only star in the galaxy that didn't radiate a joy of life. By that alone, it was easy to pick out.
'But isn't that the forbidden star?' inquired Zhondri.
'Yes, Phondesh, are you sure we're doing the right thing?' said Drovshi. 'You know this solar system is supposed to be the exclusive domain of the infant species.'
'I don't understand it either,' said Phondesh. 'I was given these co-ordinates, and I know that this endeavour is the only hope we have to contain the evil. The crystal will tell us more.'
Tsav spoke up. 'We don't have much time. The Glaat vessel is gaining on us!'
Their attention was immediately riveted to the point of light some distance behind but steadily growing in size. It had now entered the same circular path as the Zondon vessel.
Just as each star revealed its nature in the light it shone, so did the Glaat ship. Those who had once been mesmerised by their spell but had broken free, were the quickest to recognise it.
Its aura flooded the compartment. The ratio between the ships distance and its brilliance was an indicator that the pilot was a high ranking Glaat with powerful weapons at his disposal.
'I hope you know a way out of this,' said Zikh. 'It doesn't look good.'
'Yes,' said Phondesh calmly. 'It has come close - perhaps too close for us to carry out our original plan for the time being. But I was told this could happen. Our hope isn't in our strength, but Wisdom in its purest form.'
From a fold in his robe Phondesh produced a multifaceted gem and placed it in their midst. There it remained suspended, turning this way and that as though it had a mind of its own. It radiated a green, sometimes blue glint, depending on the angle, or which facet was giving off the glow.
'A knowledge cache,' said Tsav.
'Yes,' replied Phondesh, 'but much more.'
Indeed, it was. A typical knowledge cache is usually a simple cube, a cone or pyramid shaped crystal. This one was the shape of a Zondon compound eye on one side, and mostly flat on the other. It looked almost like a visual corrective device for ageing Zondon.
'This one carries not just knowledge, but also the Wisdom.'
Phondesh signalled for all to move closer.
'As you know,' he began, 'each of us was specifically chosen for this mission, and but for all of us working together and doing our part, it will fail. Now, the crystal, in its capacity as a knowledge cache, will instruct each of you what you must do, and how to do it. First, we must join our minds and look.'
The crystal began to emit a low hum and the green and blue light increased in intensity.
They joined their minds and looked. Their doubts were answered.
* * *
The brilliance was visible from the Glaat vessel. Dosh knew something was up. He took two pyramid shaped crystals and placed one on the scaly surface of his forehead. Then he pressed the other into the soft crystal wall of his craft where it submerged and worked its way to the outer surface. From there it went speeding towards the Zondon vessel.
Crystals of this sort, be they 'knowledge caches' or probes, Zondon or Glaat, are capable of conversion into other forms of existence, enabling speeds many times faster than a space ship.
Just as it approached the Zondon vessel, there was a green flash of light, and a small object left the ship streaking across the black expanse towards a star not a great distance away.
Why this particular star? wondered the Glaat.
Scanning the interior of the vessel, the probe spotted the Zondon, but now they were seven still bodies. No life could be found. No green brilliance.
What's the meaning of this?
After further scanning, he detected something - a powerful explosive device had been set to go off that would easily engulf both the Zondon ship along with his own. It couldn't be undone.
The probe sped back to its sender, and Dosh turned his ship around and began speeding in the opposite direction.
Another problem surfaced: The Zondon had programmed their ship to automatically follow the Glaat should he change direction. There was no way Dosh could get clear in time.
There was only one recourse. The probe...
Again, it sped off as fast as is possible for crystal to travel, following a course that would cross paths with the green one at its apparent destination, the forbidden solar system.
; Straight ahead, was a blue and white planet, third from the central star.
There was no time to be lost -- not even to check on the green crystal. The clear crystal sped into the atmosphere, and began a quick search for a suitable host, zipping back and forth from continent to continent.
Here, he found a witch with a crystal ball. The use of a crystal was intriguing, but it wasn't good enough (it was no more than common crystal, entirely composed of the same primitive molecular structure throughout). There, he found a star gazer looking into the heavens. No. Then, a doctor with three comatose patients -- a good possibility here. Was there something better? Out of time -- the doctor would have to do.
The doctor was a good prospect; he wished for more power and wealth, and would do anything to get it. All Dosh had to do was make the probe appear to him and promise him all that and more. The doctor accepted, and obediently placed the small crystal pyramid on his forehead. It was still hot from moving so fast within Earth's atmosphere so it burned his forehead. Though it smoked and sizzled he couldn't remove it. Then it began to melt through the surgical gloves.
The part of the deal the doctor wasn't told about was that once having gained entry, the Glaat was in control. The doctor was reduced to no more than a passenger inside his own body -- hardly better off than the comatose patients (though it would take a while for the doctor to fully realise this as Dosh would give him some leeway -- a honeymoon period -- and then the doctor's lusts would incline him to do anything the Glaat wanted anyway). Now, Dosh of Asvork had a human body. With it, came the doctor's memory (so he could carry on as though nothing strange had happened), a limited knowledge of the human body and fluency in about five Earth languages.
However, there was still more to be done.
A Glaat brain (and a Zondon one too, for that matter) has far more capacity than a human's. That's where the comatose patients came in. Immediately on gaining control of the doctor's body, he went first to one and then another of the patients, placing the crystal on their foreheads until all the knowledge known by Dosh of Asvork was downladed into the brains of the doctor and his three patients.
Finally, the other crystal pyramid departed from the now lifeless body of the Glaat, taking with it two or three other crystal objects from the ship, and sped off, clearing the area just in the nick of time. All this had happened in the space of about ten minutes.
* * *
The explosion was visible to the naked human eye, if one happened to be looking in the right direction at that precise moment in time. A point of light appeared in a part of the sky where no stars are generally seen, stayed a few seconds and then went away.
The astrologer who had been bypassed by the Glaat probe saw it. The next day, his newspaper column said those born under Sagittarius would be in for a brilliant but short-lived flash of opportunity.
* * *
After the third orbit, scanning every inch of earth's surface, the crystal probe returned to Dosh without a single trace of the green crystal nor the seven lives that it contained.
Dosh had expected as much. It left only one possibility. This meant biding his time.
He'd make use of that time. He'd worm his way to the highest circles of power. He'd amass riches.
His human vessel was game -- for now, anyway.
Part I - The Crystal
Chapter 1
The ringing phone woke him. Daylight invaded his eyes, telling Ernie he should have been up long ago. He sighed as he stretched his arm towards the receiver. It had to be Eddie, his twin.
'Ernie! Look at the time!' It was him all right. 'The aliens abduct you again or what?'
Ernie mumbled an apology, slammed the receiver and began to pull on his clothes. Five minutes later, sans shave, he was outside his flat trying to wind up the old Toyota. Just as the starter began to die, the engine puttered to life and backfired. A timely tap on the accelerator kept it alive.
This was becoming a regular occurrence. He knew exactly what Eddie would say when he walked in:
The dreams again?
Yeah, the same dream again. The space ship, the stars, a green crystal, all that stuff.
This is ruining your life, Eddie would say. When are you going to get professional help?
Eddie was probably right. What brought on this plague of vivid dreams anyway? Why couldn't he just be normal like everyone else?
On the other hand, did he really want them to go away? They were almost a second reality. There were concepts that could keep him pondering for hours. Then, there were others that seemed to make more sense while dreaming than in real life.
Sitting in a cloud of exhaust fumes, his toe pumping to keep the old heap alive, while still twenty cars from the traffic signal, is an unmistakable feature of real life. What should have been a twenty-minute drive down Gardener Street, around the old customs house and over the River Liffey, was taking an hour in Dublin rush-hour traffic -- another reason to have started early.
At long last, he glided into one of the parking spaces allotted to his brother's flat cum office and removed the ignition key. The engine, just as reluctant to stop now as it had been to start, puttered a few more times and backfired before it died.
'I should'a walked,' sighed Ernie as he glanced at his watch. Not bothering to lock the car, he trudged to the front door.
The tiny plastic strip on the door read, 'Dr. Edward Magawan, Professor of Archaeology'.
Everything happened on cue: Eddie's usual tirade about getting his life together, his declaration that he was doing all in his power to help Ernie find a life, and why wouldn't Ernie at least co-operate, pull himself together and do something to help himself for a change.
Finally, he shoved Ernie a list of people to call, appointments to make and letters to write. Ernie took it to his side of the room while Eddie rushed off to do his second lecture of the morning.
What used to be a lounge had been partitioned, using bookshelves and file cabinets, into two workspaces. Ernie's side was away from the window that overlooked Trinity College -- all the better for concentration.
The first task was to do the email. He checked his brother's first, printed them out for him to read later, answered the previous day's as he'd been instructed, and then the ones from this morning that he already knew the answers to. Then he went on to his own.
He spent the mid-morning break answering his personal email, accompanied by a mug of the strong black stuff from his brother's espresso steamer. A couple were from old school chums he'd known in Bangkok. While their father's archaeology career had taken them all over the world, it was this one particular group of former classmates that most interested him. Being the children of ex-pats, they were now mostly scattered all over America. Now, thanks to Internet and email they were back in touch.
Finally, it was on to the snail-mail and the phoning. There was enough today to keep his mind on earthly things -- or rather, under the earth.
A lot of his energy, of late, was spent both in negotiating with the Egyptian Department of Antiquities for permission, and in seeking a grant, for a proposed dig at the tomb of Thakanamen. It was a project that their father, Alec Magawan had started years ago, before the twins were born. It had to be called off just when they were beginning to make a breakthrough, because funding was suddenly cut. Later, when the timing would have otherwise been right, the war with Israel prevented them from going back. Though Alec had never been able to pick it up again, the project had lived in his heart ever since.
It had also been a life long dream of Ernie's. It was his desire to go there that finally inspired Ernie to complete his bachelors in Archaeology after changing his major four times times. Something about the place always caught his imagination. As a boy, his father's stories about that dig captivated him, even when they bored his brother.
In fact, it was Ernie who practically picked the project from a list of other candidates and talked Eddie into it. Eddie was reticent, but only because it wasn't his idea. As f
ar as he was concerned, Ernie wasn't even supposed to see the list. But he did see its merits and decided to go for it.
Funny -- it was immediately after that, that the dreams started.
Today, it looked as though they were beginning to make headway. The more answers that came from the various powers-that-be, the faster things moved, and the less Ernie's thoughts lingered on his dreams. By late morning, after six cups of strong coffee and a shot of brandy, Ernie was as steady as any workhorse.
Now it was time to knock off for lunch. Eddie, just back from his lecture, was in a better frame of mind, other issues and achievements having clamoured for his attention so that any doubts about Ernie's sanity had gone the way of the morning mist.
If only night-time didn't come once a day.
'So it looks like the Egypt thing is going through,' said Ernie, as they sat in a nearby pub.
Eddie grunted something to the effect that it was a good thing.
'What does Pop have to say about all this?' asked Ernie, after a pause.
'Don't know. Haven't asked.'
'I should think he'd have something useful to say.'
'I have his notes, and all the photos,' grunted Eddie. 'That should give us a start.'
'But what about any personal observations that he didn't write down -- or maybe thought about later, or wasn't concrete -- you know -- feelings...'
'Oh Ernie, give it a rest! Look, if you really think it will make a smidgen of difference, pop up to Belfast yourself and ask him. Then you be the right brain of the expedition.'
'But he's longing to see you, Eddie. When's the last time you went? I don't think he even knows this is on!'
'C'mon, you know I have important things to do.'
'I don't think the old heap can make such a long trip.'
'Take mine then.' Eddie threw him the keys. 'Go on. It'll get your mind off flying saucers.'
So it was that Ernie took it on himself to visit Pop over the weekend, while Eddie did his 'more important things'.
Chapter 2
The drive from Dublin to Belfast is a pleasant one if one doesn't stick to the motorways. Being in no hurry, Ernie not only diverted to the small roads, but even took a few 'long-cuts' where the countryside looked especially serene.