As always, Wayne wasn’t affected in the least. The staccato like movements were mesmerizing and he couldn’t take his eyes off them. Years afterward he would offer a friend an analogy, saying it was like seeing the music of a Rush concert, not hearing it. Trying to see ahead to the next brief stopping point before they twitched to another location, he would narrow his eyes, and become hypnotized by the erratic movements and flashing snippets of images.
When the jerky movements stopped, the Nomad was resting in a broad valley. There wasn’t a road, building or creature in sight.
“Oh look, another beautiful vacation spot,” said Wayne, as he looked out on the barren moonscape. “Good thing Amelia bought snacks.”
They got out of the car to stretch and take in the scenery. The air was dry and thin and an odor like gravel dust lingered in the air around them.
“I wonder why we stopped here?” asked Joules, who fanned the air with her hand, hoping to dispel the objectionable smell.
Blackie took a moment to examine the area around the Nomad. “We’ve lost Anonoi again. That’s not good. Amelia, do you have any idea where we are?”
Amelia lowered her hands a little and peered at the sky, “None.” She sat still with her hands halfway to her face in case there was another twitch.
“I think we’re done with it Amelia. Anonoi dumped us in this exquisite place and has gone missing again.” No one missed the sarcasm, but, how could they? The landscape was like an oil painting lesson on shades of gray.
“I guess he wants us to wait here,” said Blackie, who scanned the landscape and felt relieved. The dust devils and tornados had been left behind.
“This is a hard place,” said Joules. “The kind of place that forces living things to become freakish monsters so they can survive. I don’t like it here.”
“Neither do I,” agreed Amelia. “I hope Anonoi gets back soon. This place is dreadful.”
CHAPTER THREE
CENTORIA
Mark stood on the Ninnth Hill Cliffs gazing up at the sky as if he expected to catch a glimpse of Wayne’s 1957 Chevy Nomad station wagon bolting across the horizon. His mind drifted back to events of the past few days. Four days earlier he had arrived on Centoria. He and his friends had broken into a warehouse on Numeria, reanimated seventy-three Centorians and other innocent victims being stored there, including Nita’s dad and brother, and loaded them on Arton’s medium range stealth fighter.
Before they lifted off they were attacked by Numarian short range assault craft, and if that wasn’t bad enough, two Numerian cruisers soon joined the fray. With their translocation drive knocked offline by the shock of a giant detonation, they couldn’t make a jump, and an unshielded energy source onboard (which turned out to be the Nomad) allowed the Numerians to track every evasive maneuver Captain Gorman tried.
Rather than let them jettison the Nomad, Blackie, Wayne, Amelia and Joules got in the station wagon and activated the Jump Starter. After they jumped and the Nomad was no longer onboard, the stealth fighter was still being pounded. If those missiles had impacted their shields, the stealth fighter would have been blown to pieces along with Mark and Nita, the entire crew, and the Centorians they had just rescued.
They had been dangerously close to death, closer than he knew or wanted to know. Mark’s mind drifted back to the present and he scanned the horizon again, hoping a root beer brown station wagon was returning with his brother and friends. The safety-first protocol on the Jump Starter wasn’t 'all that', and he wondered where they were, and if they were safe.
Making matters worse, he didn't understand how the Jump Starter worked (something he had in common with its inventors). A random jump, which was all they could do with the unit Prenetian had given them, might have sent them someplace hospitable, but that didn't mean it wouldn't be dangerous.
From where he stood on the western ridges, the view into the valley was incredibly beautiful. Under other circumstances his gaze would have been fixed on the small village, the plumes of smoke curling from the brick chimneys, and the remarkably clear and cold stream running through it; but he couldn't keep his eyes off the sky.
They were out there somewhere. A tiny little speck of light almost directly overhead caught his attention, and he wondered if that could be the one, if that was the planet they jumped to? Were they still on the same time schedule he was on, or would the passage of time for him be faster, or maybe slower? Would he be an old man when they found each other? Would they ever find each other?
His gaze found a pale red planet now visible above the northern horizon. For some reason, his eyes were drawn to it. Though he tried to look away, to scan the sky again, his eyes kept going back; he couldn’t look away. “That’s it,” he thought. “That’s the one. That’s where they are. I don’t know what it’s called, but that’s it. That’s where they are.”
Mark heard the sound of a twig snapping, and a voice called out from behind him. "You beat me here," said Nita as she crossed the small rise behind the ridge where he stood.
"Yeah, your directions were good." He quickly stole another glance at the sky.
"I've been here before and I got lost," she laughed. "But the last time I was here was years ago, when we came to visit one of my Dad's closest friends and his family. It was shortly afterward Dad and Denton were kidnapped."
"Blackie and I spent our entire childhood in woods and brush county like this.” Mark glanced around the landscape. “After a while you develop an intuition on which way to go; it’s like having an internal compass.” Mark took another quick glance at the sky.
“For several years Blackie and I spent about half of every day lost in the woods behind our house. Now, you could blindfold Blackie down in the village, give him the directions you gave me, and not only would he find this ridge blindfolded, he might beat you to it."
Nita couldn't help but notice Mark's quick glance toward the sky, and she understood. For years after her father's and brother's disappearance she would unconsciously scan the sky: in the morning when she first left her house for school, at lunch time on the playground, and in the evening before going inside for supper. The last thing she did everyday was steal a glimpse of the sky, hoping her father's transport appeared on the horizon.
"They’re alright Mark. “Wayne and Blackie can take care of themselves and Amelia and Joules are bloody brilliant. Wherever they are, they are fine."
"How can you be sure?"
"I can't be sure Mark, but my heart tells me they're okay."
“It’s dangerous out there.” His gaze once again found the pale red planet near the horizon.
“It is, but they know that. I think they’re okay.”
He didn't answer. A glint of sunlight illuminated the eastern ridges as he looked across the sky once more. This spot was a favorite with locals wanting to enjoy a spectacular event; when the village was bathed in light reflected from the massive polished rocks across the valley.
Pointing to a small bag lying on a massive rock the size of a sofa, he turned to Nita and said, “I brought cheese and crackers."
"Great, I brought this," and she showed him a bottle of Gorgas Cavitas she had been hiding behind her back.
As they opened the crackers and prepared to watch the last bit of failing light, Mark pointed to a spot just above the horizon. “Can you see that pale red planet, there, above the horizon?”
“Yes, it’s very faint but I can just make it out. Why?”
“Do you know its name?”
“No. But, if it’s important I can find out. Denton was always somewhat of a star gazer; I’m sure he would remember what it’s called.”
“I can’t take my eyes off that planet, Nita. I’m drawn to it as if something is trying to tell me they are there. Blackie and Wayne, Amelia, Joules and Anonoi are there, right there. They’re still in this universe, in this solar system. When they used the Jump Starter to get off Gorman’s stealth fighter, they ended up on that planet. I’m looking at it – right there.”
He pointed at the pale red planet as if his gesture would punctuate an undeniable truth. “I feel like I’m going mad?”
“Not in the least,” she said handing him a small glass filled with Gorgas Cavitas. “When we get back to town we can ask Denton if he knows that planet’s name. If he doesn’t, tomorrow we’ll research it at the library. Joules would be delighted to find out there is a museum and excellent library here in Umbreathe. She’s kind-of nuts about museums and libraries.”
Her comment broke the tension and Mark smiled. He could imagine Joules, Amelia and Blackie pouring over star charts at a library, trying to determine the name of the planet they were on. They couldn’t ask a local because they wouldn’t have proper entry permits. Authorities don’t care for unpermitted visitors, it robs them of easy revenue, and people are generally suspicious of travelers on the lam. Joakim at Theadelbaum’s Hardware on Lindone had warned them about that.
Mark smiled again. Libraries have a little of everything, and he was sure Wayne would use the time to peruse the magazines about local musicians and live music venues, or maybe transporter mechanics. If Wayne ever gets back to earth he’ll have an entirely foreign technology tucked away in that crazy head of his, he thought.
The thing about Wayne was he could look at something one time and he had it. Wayne had a photographic memory and perfect recall. You would think someone with such a gift would be an insufferable know-it-all, and most are, but not Wayne. Mark and Blackie only knew about it because they lost a bet with him over what lead licks David Gilmour played during a particular section of the song Time. They looked it up and sure enough, Wayne was right.
When they asked him how he knew that, a seeming incongruity for a bass player to know so much about the lead parts of a song, he said he looked at the sheet music once in a shop on the west side of Austin. Once, as in one time briefly, and he had it. It cost them each five dollars and a lesson; don’t bet against Wayne in matters of memory. When he is sure, it’s a sure thing. They put ten dollars’ worth of gasoline in the Nomad and called it even. Since they used Wayne’s Nomad to get to all their gigs they didn’t feel like they lost. They probably owed him gas money anyway.
“A dollar for your thoughts,” offered Nita.
“I was just thinking about them. They’re probably in a library or museum doing research. At least they are if Blackie had any say in the matter; not that Amelia and Joules would need much persuasion.” Mark turned and looked across the valley, “I didn’t realize how spectacular the light reflecting off those cliffs would be. You told me, but you have to see it to believe it. It’s stunning.”
They sat on a massive stone next to the cliff observing the beautiful valley stretched out in front of them. Eating crackers and cheese, they watched Umbreathe as the long shadows of evening began to invade the village only to be rebuked by golden light reflected off the eastern cliffs.
Each night the same struggle played out. The light from the cliffs covered the village like a golden bath, rejecting the encroaching shadows for a scant two minutes, holding them at bay while the villagers made their last preparations for nightfall. The scene was more than idyllic. Smoke from the chimneys of wood burning fireplaces formed long curling plumes that rose in the air as if they would climb forever.
Mark and Nita sat mesmerized by the smoke, watching it drift up through the golden light. The apparition played out before them like a scene out of a science fiction movie. Children playing outside tried to finish their last game of street ball before the shadows returned and the golden light faded, and shopkeepers used the final bit of light to put away their wares.
Men and women throughout Umbreathe strolled leisurely to their homes calling their children for dinner. The quiet darkness of night eventually overruled the light. Too dark for shadows now, evening fell gently on the village like fog blowing off the ocean through a beachside hamlet.
“What do you say we head down to the village and find Denton,” said Nita with a smile on her face as she waved a credit card in the air between them. “Thanks to you and Tugurro we can use our credits to take him to dinner, and ask about that red planet.”
“Great idea. Will your dad be joining us?”
“No, he has a meeting this evening with Bert and several members of the Centorian Council. They asked Arton and Dex to brief them about what happened on Numaria. I’d give almost anything to be there when they tell the story,” she said, looking somewhat disappointed.
“I’m sure the Numerians aren’t happy about our intrusion. On Earth that would be tantamount to a declaration of war.”
“The Numerians are shrewd,” replied Nita. “I don’t think we have to worry about a reprisal, especially after two of their most advanced attack vessels got schooled by our new Alpha Class gunship.”
“Do you know what happened?”
Nita could hear the eager tone in his voice and she was happy to describe the encounter. “After the Nomad disappeared, Captain Gorman was hailed and told to get out of the way. Apparently, before we engaged the translocation drive, a Centorian Alpha Class Gunship slipped in front of our position and intercepted two missiles intended for us. Arton’s stealth fighter would have been shredded to bits.”
Arton said the captain of the Alpha hailed the Numarians and asked them to unconditionally cease their pursuit of our ship. Apparently, their response was considerably less than pleasant. They demanded the Alpha withdraw from their zone or suffer extreme consequences.”
“I take it that meant 'we’re going to blow you to bits,' offered Mark.
“Precisely. The Alpha captain reminded them they were flying in neutral territory, and again asked them to cease their pursuit. Arton said the captain was buying time so we could translocate and get as far from Numeria as possible. It was at that point two more missiles exploded on the fore and aft shields of the Alpha. Arton said one of the crew told him the captain didn’t so much as flinch; he only said they had made a grievous mistake.”
“He didn’t destroy both ships, did he?
“No, but Arton said if he had wanted to, the Numerian ships wouldn’t have lasted sixty seconds. Apparently, the captain increased the shield strength on the Alpha, flew right through the Numerian’s shield array, and as he passed through, destroyed the guidance systems on both ships with the smallest ordnance in his arsenal. The Numerians were rendered completely helpless.”
“What about life support?” asked Mark.
“I asked Arton the same thing. Life support systems on the Numerian ship were intact and functioning after the captain’s maneuver. There was minimal risk and no one was hurt. Can you imagine the expression on the Numarian captain’s face when he realized he was dead in space with the most advanced gunship in the universe lurking about? Anyway, Arton said the Alpha captain said, 'a crew shouldn’t forfeit their lives because their captain is a hotheaded imbecile. Centorians are in the business of rescuing lives, not needlessly taking them.'
“That shield maneuver, I’m certainly no expert, but wasn’t that... unusual?
“First time it’s ever been done according to Arton. Shield technology across the universes has changed significantly in the last twenty years, but in spite of all the advances it remained at parity among its users until development of the Alpha Class. Flying through the shield array of those Numerian gunships was more than a 'shot-over-the-bow', it was an emphatic statement they were utterly defenseless.”
“I believe it’s what you refer to on Terra Bulga as checkmate,” she said, remembering how a waiter on Gafcon-49 had refused Blackie’s payment for his tea since Joules’ dad had arranged in-advance to pay the bill. When Blackie pressed the issue, the waiter proceeded to explain to him the Livingstons were in the restaurant often, so who was he supposed to make happy, Mr. Livingston, whose wife and daughter were regular patrons, or Blackie, whom he had never seen before and didn’t know if he would ever see him again.
Without missing a beat, Mark had replied, 'I believe that is checkmate, Blackie,' and
proceeded to explain the game of chess to Nita. The memory of it made her smile. “Let’s go find Denton, shall we?”
“Good idea.”
They packed quickly and made their way back to the village. As they turned up Main Street, Nita saw Denton and a young woman walking on the far side of the road. “Denton, hey Denton,” yelled Nita as she and Mark crossed and joined them. “Where’re you headed?”
“We were going up to Krimperdeem’s Café for dinner, why don’t you and Mark join us.”
“That’s what we had in mind. Hi, I’m Nita, Denton’s sister,” said Nita to the young woman accompanying Denton, “and this is Mark, a very close friend of mine.”
“Nice to meet you, I’m Elia.”
They walked up the street chatting about the spectacular view from Ninnth Hill Cliffs and the incredible sundown, and before long found themselves seated in the café about to order dinner.
“By the way, dinner is on me tonight,” Nita informed them.
“No way, I should be buying your dinners after what you did for Dad and me, countered Denton.”
“If it makes you feel any better, she’s loaded,” said Mark. “Besides, I’ve heard that tone before; you’re not going to talk her out of it.”
Denton held Mark in his gaze momentarily, then relented, “Okay, dinner is on you Nita, let’s order.”
After the food arrived, Denton asked how Mark and Nita had met. Nita described the scene in the grocery store on Alphus Nebulum (Mark went slightly red in the face), their visit to the Lactropodectopoi cave, evading soldiers guarding the Nomad by using the Jump Starter, visiting Tugurro’s restaurant, and the Toast contract.
“So, let me get this straight,” said Denton looking at Mark, “you unknowingly took Toast from Alphus Nebulum, used it to barter for your restaurant bill, and the six of you ended up partners in a restaurant enterprise?”
“That’s how it happened,” said Mark.
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