Jump Starting the Universe Book Bundle

by John David Buchanan

  Everyone was quiet. Blackie hadn’t mentioned anything about what he said to the thugs in the hardware store, and while everyone wanted to ask him about it, no one knew how to broach the subject. Mark was the only one at the time who knew Blackie wasn’t just telling a story. Mark did give Wayne an explanation, and soon they would all know.

  “Does that include me?” asked Amelia. “I could use some self-defense training.”

  “You’re all welcome to train,” replied Blackie who then told them all about his training at the base. “Without the virtual reality system, it should be a little less dangerous. I don’t expect anyone will get hurt if we’re careful. Nita maybe you could show us some of the techniques your uncle taught you.”

  “Were you hurt?” asked Joules. “While we were swimming I couldn’t help but notice you have a few scars, especially that one on your chest.”

  “I got that during a training simulation,” answered Blackie, “I lost my grip and got stabbed before I could recover.”

  “You told Mom you fell against a piece of metal,” said Mark.

  “I did. It was a knife. And for the record, Dad pretended to not know about my training so he wouldn’t catch you-know-what from Mom if she found out what I was doing.”

  “I didn’t know that!” replied Mark, who looked at Wayne like he had just been insulted.

  “Now you do,” said Wayne.

  “So, we’ll start training,” said Amelia. “How about tomorrow, after we go to the hardware store to look for the retainer ring, and after we look at the area Mark proposed for the Shade meeting.”

  “That works for me,” said Blackie. “Anyone want to go swimming after dessert?”

  There was a unanimous yes to Blackie’s question. The discussion during dessert turned to decidedly lighter topics. Wayne and Mark revisited their previous discussion about how to end a particular song and where to put it in the band’s set list.

  “Exactly when we’ll try this ending I don’t know,” said Mark, “I wonder what Buster is doing?”

  “Probably touring with his new band,” replied Wayne.

  “You don’t think he would quit on us, do you?” asked Mark.

  “Wouldn’t you if your band just disappeared from the parking lot with all the equipment and no indication of where they were going, how long they would be gone, or if they were coming back? I wouldn’t be offended if he did.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” admitted Mark. “But I don’t like it.”

  “I don’t either,” replied Wayne.

  “You just said you wouldn’t be offended.”

  “I wouldn’t be offended, but that doesn’t mean I’d like it.”

  While Mark and Wayne were engrossed in their discussion of Buster and his possible infidelity, Joules was telling Nita and Amelia about her grandmother and their discussions about her unique gift. She told them how surprised she was when she found out her father had the same ability.

  “Gran somehow knew Dad was slipping off to practice, making energy beams and blasting rocks he threw in the air, but she never mentioned it to me. I suppose she thought that admission should come directly from Dad.”

  While she was relaying the story, Blackie suddenly stood up and marched across the restaurant patio and kept walking until he reached the opposite side of the street.

  “What’s with him?” asked Mark when he realized Blackie had suddenly left. “What’s he doing over there?”

  “I don’t know,” said Joules, “he just suddenly stood up and walked away.”

  “Can you see what he’s doing?” asked Mark.

  Wayne glanced casually across the street, “I think he’s talking to the Shade.”

  Mark pushed his chair back forcefully and started to standup, but Nita grabbed his arm before he got to his feet.

  “Wait, Mark,” she said.

  Joules was already on her feet. As she turned toward the road the glow in her hands began to intensify, and before anyone could say another word, a beam of energy seared through the air like electricity looking for a place to go to ground. She quickly made her way to the edge of the patio and then to the sidewalk.

  As she moved the beam hung in the air making a sizzling sound like chucks of fat dropped in a red-hot skillet. Joules stood with the palms of her hands pointed at the Shade, controlling the beam that hovered in the air, crackling and spitting with bursts of energy three meters from where Blackie stood. He could feel the intense heat coming off the beam.

  Blackie didn’t know if the Shade could feel it, in fact he didn’t know if the Shade could feel anything physically in the way humans do, but he was sure of this – no one, or thing could mistake the tremendous amount of energy raging inside that beam. It reminded Blackie of a cobra. It might seem content to lift its head high in the air above its coiled body, but in a fraction of a second it could inflict a lethal strike.

  “I don’t think she will hurt you,” Blackie said, wondering if he would actually be able to communicate with the being standing before him.

  “I have no intention of inciting her,” replied the Shade, who glanced at Joules and the white-hot beam of energy pointed directly at him.

  Blackie was completely surprised. He didn’t hear anything audible, and yet he did hear the Shade’s response with crystal clear clarity. “She’s a little on edge,” countered Blackie, “you would be too if you had had two attempts on your life recently.”

  “My name is Anonoi,” said the Shade, seemingly disinterested in Blackie’s explanation of why there was a searing hot beam of energy pointed at them. “I was sent to observe her and her friends at the lake on Gafcon-49. I am sure you saw me there,” he finished gesturing toward Blackie.

  Anonoi didn’t intend for his gesture to be construed as an act of aggression, but Joules wasn’t taking any chances. In an instant she was surrounded by gyrating shafts of energy forming a ball shaped shield around her, and the beam of energy emanating from her hands jumped to within a meter of the Shade. Very much to Blackie’s surprise he found himself caged in a matrix of swirling energy beams completely separate and apart from the one surrounding Joules.

  For some reason he could no longer feel the heat from the beam now pointed directly at the Shade. Neither he nor Joules had noticed that Mark, Wayne, Nita and Amelia had joined Joules on the sidewalk next to the restaurant. The scene before them was beyond anything they had ever seen. Two gyrating balls of energy beams were swirling so fast and so intensely Blackie and Joules were barely visible.

  “What do we do?” asked Mark looking at Wayne.

  “Nothing yet. Blackie’s safe inside that…that field around him. Let’s just be calm and see what happens.” At that very moment the energy swirling around Joules expanded violently and engulfed all of them inside the shield.

  Realizing what Joules had done, Blackie worried any misleading move by the Shade might be seen as provocation and she would react. He looked at Joules intensely, making sure she made eye contact through the gyrating field of light, and then he raised his hand and pumped it slightly downward. The beam stopped its advance about twenty centimeters from the Shade.

  “Tell her you’re not here to hurt us,” said Blackie.

  “I cannot. I was instructed to not contact her directly. Can we meet tomorrow?” asked the Shade.

  “Tomorrow afternoon? We might be able to meet late tomorrow afternoon,” Blackie replied, again pumping his hands in a downward motion, hoping to calm Joules; to show her the Shade meant no harm.

  “I will find you,” replied Anonoi. As soon as he finished speaking the shadowy essence standing before Blackie began to fade and within ten seconds he was completely gone.

  Blackie watched the wispy shadow diffuse in the air then he turned toward Joules and gestured to assure her everything was okay. The energy beam and fields surrounding them disappeared instantly. But for a brief moment the bright image of those energy fields remained burned in their blurred vision, like ghostly apparitions of what they had just wi
tnessed.

  “Wow,” exclaimed Mark, blinking his eyes and looking around the empty space where the field had just vanished, “that was awesome.”

  Blackie turned and sauntered slowly across to the street to where the group stood.

  “I’ll bet he didn’t like that did he?” said Joules as Blackie approached.

  “You certainly got his attention. He wants to meet with us tomorrow, late afternoon. He said we can pick a spot; he’ll find us.”

  “You know what would be a great idea,” said Mark, “to discuss what you found out over dessert.”

  “Good idea, Mark.”

  Just like that the tension was broken. Nita smiled at Mark but couldn’t verbalize her amusement. Wayne didn’t react at all since that was exactly what he would have expected Mark to say. Amelia was looking at Wayne, expecting him to gig Mark.

  “Nothing?” said Amelia to Wayne.

  “It’s a delicate balance,” replied Wayne. “It takes years of exposure to Mark to know precisely when to skewer and when to pass. Once you appreciate the subtlety you can keep him completely off balance. Exercising control exacerbates the effect of the skewer when it finally happens. Think of it like someone precariously teetering on the edge of a cliff. They don’t know when, or if, you’ll choose to help them jump.”

  “Wayne, that’s a terribly dark analogy.”

  “Yeah, but it seems to fit perfectly,” responded Wayne brightly.

  “Thanks for the help, Joules,” said Blackie as he took her hand and escorted her back to their table.

  They ordered dessert and ate leisurely while discussing Blackie’s brief encounter with Anonoi.

  “Does it bother you that he didn’t say who sent him to watch us?” asked Mark. “Doesn’t that make you a little suspicious? And why is it that since we’ve been on Lindone, you’re the only one who sees him?”

  “Yes, yes and I don’t know,” answered Blackie who wasn’t trying to be snippy, he was just trying to remember exactly what Anonoi had said so he could answer their questions.

  “It seems like if he wanted to hurt any of us he had plenty of opportunity before Blackie noticed him lurking about,” offered Amelia. “I think we may get our answers tomorrow.”

  “Hey, where do you get off just walking away like that anyway?” said Mark, suddenly remembering how Blackie had bolted across the street to confront the Shade. “You can’t go rushing about like that without giving us a clue what you’re up to. We’re on a slightly different playing field than we were back home, Blackie, that was completely out of line.”

  “Classic 'older brother scolds younger brother' scenario,” said Wayne pretending to whisper to the girls. “Although with these two it usually involves a 1958 Chevy, defaced blue metallic paint, or any number of missing engine parts or a flat basketball. The upside is these little spats never last very long.”

  “You’re right, you’re right,” said Blackie apologetically, “I’ll be more careful.”

  “See, that didn’t last long at all,” said Wayne, smiling at the girls like he was just proven to be a prophet. “I usually don’t say anything until the offending party admits their indiscretion and apologizes. Then, the coast is clear for regular guy talk to resume; or in this case – and better – guy and girl talk.”

  Wayne’s head popped forward from the swat Mark gave him to the back of his head.

  “Ow, that hurt.”

  “Serves you right,” replied Mark who twisted sideways to avoid Wayne’s half-hearted jab then leaned back slowly, waving his arms in slow motion like he was dodging some invisible projectiles.

  “You’re getting pretty good at that Mark,” sniggered Wayne. “With a little more practice and a big cardboard sign you might be able to get a job advertising for the 'Gold Exchange' on Military Drive.” This time it was Wayne who dodged the jab, but there were no flailing arms in slow motion: Wayne is a bass player after all, his natural persona wouldn’t let him.

  “So, tomorrow morning we go to Theadelbaum’s and find the retainer ring, then we scope out someplace to meet the Shade. Is that the plan?” asked Joules.

  “That’s the plan,” replied Nita.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  DISAMBIGUATION

  The Zin Charr were once known as hospitable and even exceptionally friendly beings. But that was before the IM attacks, which are recognized by historians as the tipping point for their slow and steady societal decay. Two hundred years later, they are known as one of the most diabolical, malicious, wicked, and disreputable species in the universe.

  Hailing from the planets Implacto and Malevolia in the Craimino system they are known for extremely high intellect, advanced achievements in the sciences, and the disturbing ability to perpetrate the most heinous act known in all the universes without having the slightest hint of hesitancy or regret. Multiple thousands of beings have met their end at the hands of the dispassionate Zin Charr.

  Some would argue that the use of the phrase 'met their end' is utterly meaningless in that context since their victims have never been proven to be deceased. Technically, they have never been proven to be alive either.

  Just over two hundred years earlier the Zin Charr surmised that taking life from a being as a means of punishment was ambiguous because no one really knew the final result of such an action. Their viewpoint was predicated on the fact that among the myriad of beings and societies in the known universes there was seemingly no limit to the number of theories addressing what happens to someone at the time of death.

  The Zin Charr ultimately decided that the ambiguity of death made it unsatisfactory as a penalty for criminals, so they devised a substitute with no ambiguity whatsoever. Their insistence on use of this unfathomable technique was originally supported by their desire to render justice, justice that death might otherwise circumvent.

  The long decline of the Zin Charr civilization began two hundred years earlier, seemingly with an interview of a man espousing a desire for freedom. That man’s fate and that of the Zin Charr were bound together by the events of those days.

  “When our reasonable demands suffer a deficit of attention at the hands of those capable of enacting change, how can we perpetuate those demands to fulfillment except through the crucible of violent intervention?” remarked the man sitting behind a panel of safety glass that separated him from the interviewer. There was an uncomfortable casualness to his threat and the smirk on his face testified to his unmitigated arrogance, even as he sat wearing restraining cuffs in a high security government detention facility.

  “So, you really would use violence to advance your ideas?” asked the interviewer.

  “Posturing never produces results unless there is sufficient strength and resolve to support it. We have the strength and the will, and the ability to leverage change; you will see,” said the man into the handset, “you will see.” He smiled at the reporter and hung up the handset.

  In the year 5791.42 in dimension 6803b12 portions of a small planet in the Craimino system were destroyed by a series of planned attacks that targeted key components of the planet’s infrastructure and its citizenry. Bridges and dams were targeted, then government buildings and large industrial complexes, and finally shopping centers and malls. Local news personnel from broadcasting facilities not damaged or destroyed in the attacks raced to various locations throughout the region and tried to describe the scenes as cameramen recorded their attempts; but words alone were grossly insufficient.

  Only the images could portray what had occurred; images of various locations on Implacto in virtually complete and utter ruin best conveyed the reporters’ stories. Fires raged, innocent people were torn from life in an instant, buildings collapsed in great clouds of dust and debris, and bridges failed, spilling their untimely users into ravines or rivers below. Dams broke and waters swept downstream carrying away vestiges of civilization from their banks. The devastation would change Implacto for many years as survivors of the attacks began the painful, almost insurmountable ta
sk of rebuilding their society and infrastructure.

  First, they grieved their losses. Then came plans to rebuild damaged and destroyed facilities. Interspersed with the seemingly endless myriad of things needed to return to normalcy came thoughts of retribution. The attacks led to a series of events that would change the beings known as the Zin Charr forever.

  Police detectives from several planets in the Craimino system immediately formed a task force to investigate the attack on Implacto. Under the direction of Lyen Redaux from Malevolia, Implacto’s sister planet, they quickly and painstakingly collected information. Reams and reams of it were collected but they found no significant clues.

  At least not until test results from advanced chemical analyses of samples from debris sites confirmed the identity of one extremely rare explosophore. Samples from every blast site revealed traces of Argurent, an exotic oxygenating compound used to strengthen the explosive force of detonations. With that vital clue, the detective work ramped up.

  “I want everyone on this task force researching Argurent forwards and backwards,” began Lyen, “I want to know how it’s produced,” he pointed to a detective, “where it’s processed,” he pointed to another task force member, “who sells it and where its sold, how its shipped, and who purchases it,” he finished after pointing to four more detectives.

  Addressing the group, he added, “Find out if anyone is missing part of their stock, and check to see how often inventories are completed – maybe someone doesn’t know some of their explosives have gone missing.”

  Information discovered by the detectives, or acquired from unsolicited tips, poured into the horribly old building the task force called headquarters. In its day it may have been seen as trendy, but not for long. The low-profile gray building with dark blue-gray trim was simply depressing to look at. Overgrown bushes that once accented the building now seemed to jealously obscure it, preventing anyone from getting a close look.