“Was that Joules?” asked Amelia.
“How do I know you’re not pretending to be Joules.” Blackie hoisted the tire iron into a threatening position and advanced toward the billowing space.
“Your brother’s name is Mark,” came the whisper. Blackie stopped in his tracks. “He loves soup biscuits; the spicy ones.”
“That’s Joules alright,” said Wayne.
Blackie dropped his arm. “How can I be sure that thing is not reading her mind?” he asked, as he turned toward Wayne and Amelia, who were still staring at the billowing space.
“We don’t know,” replied Amelia, “but let’s wait a moment longer. If Joules’ isn’t back in five minutes, we’ll… we’ll try to… we’ll try to go in after her.” Amelia wasn’t sure they could do anything. They had no idea what they were dealing with. Maybe she had bought Joules five more minutes and she hoped it didn’t take that long, because she didn’t think Blackie would wait any longer.
Wayne went to the Nomad and found a 24-inch long crescent wrench in his stash of tools. Then, he returned to where Amelia and Blackie stood watching the billowing space, nervously swinging the heavy piece of metal back and forth next to his leg.
They stood for several more minutes at a complete loss of what to do or how to help. The whole time Blackie became increasingly agitated. “I’m going in there,” he said. Wayne nodded and they stepped forward together.
“She is coming now,” came a whisper in the air as all three of them advanced.
The billowing space began to glow on the edge closest to them, and a small portion of Joules’ light shield became visible. Little by little she emerged from the billowing translucent space with the gyrating beams of light still dancing around her.
“Are you alright?” asked Blackie, He and Wayne had backed away as the energy field pressed toward them.
Inside the light shield, Joules nodded yes. The gyrating beams of light swirling around her began to fade and within seconds the shield vanished. “I’m a little shaken, but it didn’t harm me. He told me what’s going on.”
“He? asked Wayne.
“Yes, he. His name is Sheal and he’s from beyond the rift, like the one we saw on Faxicom. They call it a gateway. Inside that, that membrane looking material, is a being that looks almost exactly like us. They can’t survive in our dimension without protection. That shimmering empty looking space we saw is programmable, biological membrane generated by a cloaking device. Inside that space he’s safe.
“What else did he say?” asked Amelia.
“He said they won’t be here long, and they have no choice; without balance everything on both sides of the gateway will fail. They only take what they need to harmonize our dimensions and he offered an apology for how they conduct their operations.”
“Easy for him to say,” Blackie said irritably, “he’s not being sucked through a crack in the sky. What else did he say?”
“He said ages ago they tried to give advance warning to inhabited planets,” continued Joules, “but it didn’t go well. He said we can’t imagine how quickly advanced beings can act like the basest of animals. Mass looting, violence and destruction of every sort, and assaults of innocent people were commonplace. They believe all beings must die, but when and how they die doesn’t change their destiny, so now they come when necessary.”
“They don’t give advance warning anymore. In most cases when the gateway appears there is time for beings to leave their planet, but he said most don’t, they stay. They cling to their possession and what they know, and they perish. Our leaders need to be told why they are here, and he asked us to tell them.”
“So, basically, he verified everything Anonoi told us about them,” commented Wayne.
“Pretty much, yeah,” agreed Joules.
“What did you say to him?” asked Amelia.
“I told him we were trying to make our way to Centoria and he told me Centoria is beyond their harvest zone. I told him we were waiting on a friend to return before leaving, and, I told him he was lucky Blackie didn’t get inside that membrane.”
Wayne laughed, and Blackie couldn’t help but smile at Joules’ comment.
“The thing is…” Joules hesitated for a moment, “they’ve only just begun, and they are coming to this planet next.”
“Maybe he could point out a planet close by they’re not going to harvest,” suggested Blackie.
“That’s a great idea, I’ll ask him.” But then they turned back to where the Harvester had been moments earlier, he was gone.
“We know what’s coming,” interjected Amelia, “so, we should eat and drink something beforehand, and be prepared to jump if Anonoi doesn’t return in time.”
“Here,” said Blackie as he tossed the tire iron to Wayne, who caught it in his left hand and nervously spun it like a majorette’s baton. “I’ll get the food out.”
As Blackie and Wayne walked toward the Nomad, Amelia whispered, “He was going in after you Joules, you came out just in the nick of time.”
Joules blushed and replied, “I know. I was sure it would be okay and I thought everyone was asleep. If anything had happened…”
“Don’t beat yourself up Joules. We don’t have a playbook for this stuff. Nothing bad happened and besides, I can’t say any one of us would have done differently. Sometimes you have to go with your instincts. I suspect if it had been Blackie inside that thing, we would have had a hard time keeping you from going in after him! Come on, let’s eat a snack.”
Over lunch they pelted Joules with questions; what did it feel like behind the cloak, how did it appear and smell, what else did you see, and how would you describe Sheal. What kind of features did he have. Was he tall or short?
“He looked a lot like us in form, but the skin on his face was mottled with bluish gray and ochre, like a camouflage. His eyes were gray/green, but the skin around his eyes was burnt red.”
They talked for almost an hour about the World Eaters and their situation, and had started cleaning up after lunch when Anonoi reappeared near the Nomad.
“I hope you have good news,” Blackie said before Anonoi could communicate with them.
“We have few good options from here,” replied Anonoi. “I would like to search for more before we move.”
“That’s fine,” added Joules, “but you should know, we had a visitor while you were gone. A Harvester named Sheal. They are coming here next.”
“How long ago was he here?” asked Anonoi.
Wayne looked at his aviation watch and replied, “About an hour and thirty minutes by earth reckoning, if that means anything here.”
Before anyone could ask another question, or comment, Anonoi disappeared.
“That doesn’t bode well, does it?” said Blackie. “We should get ready to jump.”
There was still no sign of the World Eaters when Anonoi returned two hours later and told them he had located a safer planet. Amelia breathed a sigh of relief. The Jump Starter was in her charge, and if they had decided to use it, it would have been a group decision. Even so, she was the one who had to push the button, and a significant amount of stress accompanied that responsibility.
When the retainer ring went missing, she took it personally, like she had let everyone down. What if she pushed the button and they jumped to a planet being processed by the World Eaters? She kept telling herself, the Jump Starter picks the destination, but it wasn’t comforting.
Amelia remembered when she first got the Jump Starter. When they were in jail on Alphus Nebulum Mark got it from the prisoner in the cell next to his. For some reason, Mark immediately passed it through the bars to her. The first time they used it they were surrounded by soldiers. The Lactropodectopoi coaxed her to push the red button and she did.
Ever since then, she had been responsible for the Jump Starter, and after they had to rescue it from the fire at the Hotel Phoenix, she kept it with her at all times. The memory of the lobby crumbling around them was vivid in her mind when Wayne’s
voice interrupted her train of thought.
“Here we go again.”
Amelia and Joules covered their faces. Neither of them enjoyed the tormented movements that accompanied the shifting of time and space. Occasionally Wayne or Blackie made a comment like, Oh, that was cool, but usually they were quiet during the twitches.
When they came to a stop everyone bailed out of the car, but before they could say anything Anonoi communicated with them.
“We went backwards. It was necessary before we can go forward safely. I must leave immediately and I may be gone quite some time. You should ration your food and water for a four-day span. I should return by the fourth morning with news of how we might proceed.” When he finished communicating Anonoi began to fade and within seconds he was gone.
“Do you get the idea he doesn’t want to answer any questions?” asked Wayne.
“Not only that, but he wasn’t sure of our situation, was he,” added Blackie. “He said we went BACKWARDS, he MIGHT be gone for some time, that he SHOULD return, and how we MIGHT proceed. I know he thinks this is our best shot at getting out of the harvest zone, but I feel like we’re shooting from mid-court.”
Wayne noticed Joules looking at Blackie with a quizzical expression on her face. “He means it seems like a long shot,” said Wayne. “They don’t play basketball on Gafcon-49, Blackie.”
“Sorry Joules, I use too many colloquialisms.”
“No problem,” she said. “We have at least three whole days for you to teach me about basketball.”
“Okay, well, it’s a game we play on earth… uh, I guess you knew that.”
They stood near the Nomad taking turns explaining to Joules how to play basketball. Wayne and Blackie were surprised to learn Amelia was a rabid San Antonio Spurs fan. As they were talking Wayne dropped his voice and whispered, “Someone is watching us.”
“Where,” said Joules.
“Behind Blackie, in the brush. There’s more than one.”
“Amelia, you have the Jump Starter?” whispered Blackie.
“Right here,” she said, as she swung her backpack off her shoulder.
“Let’s see what they want. Amelia be ready,” whispered Wayne. Then, without any warning he yelled, “Hey, didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s foul manners to eavesdrop on a private conversation. Come out of those bushes.”
Blackie turned around as the bushes behind him rustled and three humanoid beings stepped out. They were all about five and a half feet tall, bald, and their skin had a slight orange cast. Otherwise, they could have passed for the people from Joules’ planet, Gafcon-49.
“You have come! We weren’t sure you would come, but you are here,” said one of the beings, who leaned sideways and tilted his head like he was looking for something behind Wayne. “We were expecting six, not four,” he said with a disappointed sound in his voice. “Are there not six of you?” he asked, craning his neck so he might see around them.
“Who are you?” asked Amelia, “and what do you mean by, you have come?”
“We are Bantorians, replied the being. “I am Soe. This is Ute, and this is Kar,” he said gesturing to the other beings with him.
“And, who are we?” asked Joules.
“Who are we,” Soe repeated with glee in his voice, like he was retelling a funny joke. “Who are we,” he shook his head smiling. “You are the Wanderers. We have been waiting. But we must go. You have only three days before time and space claim you again. Come, come, we must go.”
“We are not going anywhere,” replied Wayne. “You have us confused with someone else.”
“No, you are you,” replied Soe.
“You arrived in shifting space and time,” said Ute. You are you.”
“I’m getting nowhere,” Wayne said, looking at Amelia. “Your turn.”
“We ARE us,” Amelia said with a sound of agreement in her voice, “but we are not the Wanderers.”
“No,” said Kar emphatically. “You are the Wanderers. Are you not traveling the universe looking for home? Did you not arrive in a ship the likes of which we have never seen or heard reported?
Soe listened to Kar’s urging, then said, “But, you are six. Why are there only four? You should be six,” and he recited these words,
“Four from one and two besides,
Six Wanderers will come to stem the tides,
If those in need are fair and true,
Then they will come to aid the Blue,
Retracing steps where they have been,
A ship like none have ever seen,
Then, two of six will render aid,
Fear will stop and death be stayed,
The wicked turn from their desire,
When scourged with all-consuming fire.”
“And, you are here on the day, at the appointed place. You are the Wanderers,” he finished
Amelia looked at the others. Wayne, Joules and Blackie appeared to be as shocked as she was. There would be six of them, had they not separated from Mark and Nita. And, they were four from one and two besides – four of them were from earth, Nita was from Alphus Nebulum and Joules from Gafcon-49. Maybe if we played along, she thought, we might figure out what this is all about.
“Assuming we are the Wanderers, what do you want from us?” she asked.
“Help us stop the end. We have used the only means allowed by Bantorian Law. To halt the end, we must compete. We may name two champions. Shouldn’t six Wanderers be here?
“Stop the end of what?” asked Blackie.
Soe hung his head and trembled; he couldn’t respond. Kar stepped to his side and placed his hand on Soe’s shoulder, then he answered the question, “The end of the Blue Bantorians. The end of us.”
His answer shocked them, and Amelia was speechless for a moment. When she recovered, she fixed him in her gaze and demanded to hear the entirety of the matter, “Kar, we need to hear the entire story. Tell us everything, and explain the poem Soe recited. We want to hear everything.”
Kar patted Soe on the shoulder, took a deep breath, and began. “We are the Blue Bantorians. Most Bantorians have brown eyes, but we have blue. All Blues have a genetic condition that is eye-color linked, making us susceptible to a virus that causes sudden onset thrombophilia. The condition is fatal when the virus’ effects begin to coalesce proteins and platelets to form blood clots at an abnormally fast pace; all blood in an infected Blue congeals so rapidly intervention is not possible. In a matter of hours, the infected Blue dies.”
Soe regained his composure, took a deep breath and helped Kar explain. “Although it is limited to our portion of the population, government health officials are concerned the virus could someday mutate and jump from Blues to the rest of the population, since we have the same genotype. Because of that concern, research was being conducted to find a cure.”
“But, government mismanagement has led to hard times on our planet and frustrated Bantorians voted for sweeping change. A new administration now controls our government, and the new Chancellor decided finding a cure for thrombophilia would cost the government too much and take too long.”
“The research program has been cancelled,” said Kar. “All of our planet’s problems have been systematically blamed on the Blues, and burdensome controls have been instituted that affect our jobs, where we can travel, where our children may attend school, and more. Every facet of our lives has been affected.”
“All off-world travel is subject to approval of DMT, the Disease Management Task Force,” said Ute, “so Blues are not free to leave. The government has used its birth records to identify Blues, and all of us have been notified we must present ourselves to proper authorities for official registration.”
“This is the first step in the government’s secret plan; a process confidentially known as The Solution. The Chancellor intends to remove all blue-eyed Bantorians from the population. Of course, the plan was leaked and became known publicly, and many have vehemently protested, including many supporters of the Chancellor
who do not agree. Dissenters have disappeared and the registration process continues,” added So. “It is a foolish solution. When we are gone, the virus will not be, and it may still mutate and infect others.”
“We have an ancient society,” said Ute. “And we have many ancient laws, some of which have been forgotten by most, if not virtually all Bantorians. Some who know of their existence say the old laws should be stricken, but they are still in effect, and we hope they may be used in our behalf.”
“Ancient Bantorians were far less civilized than we claim to be now,” said Kar, “and disagreements in previous times were settled with competitions. One person would issue a challenge and the other was required to respond. Each side can represent themselves, or more commonly choose a champion if they desired. Then, to settle the argument or offense, they present themselves for the challenge.”
“Champions cannot bring weapons into the ring, so the competition is one of hand to hand combat. When the competition has ended, a judicial council renders an official judgement in favor of the winning party.”
Soe listened as Kar described the law, then added, “The poem is more ancient than our law. The poet Elo was a Blue, and it is said he was a seer. It is his prophecy that the Wanderers would come and from among them two would volunteer as champions. According to our reading of the law, the settlement of this issue requires two, as it is a challenge issued against the government.”
Amelia looked at Blackie and Wayne and could tell they were having the same thought. Their history classes on earth had taught them about prejudice, about the registration of peoples being used as scapegoats for their society’s problems, and the crimes perpetrated against them.
“I’m familiar with this story, and it reeks as badly here as it did on earth,” said Wayne.
“So, what happens if a champion realizes they cannot defeat their opponent,” asked Joules. “Is the competition to the death?”
“No, not to the death,” said So. “Although unfortunately, that may happen if someone suffers a traumatic injury during the competition. The goal is only to secure victory by subduing the opponent, not killing them. At any time during the competition a champion may withdraw by holding both arms straight above their head, or by waving a hand with two fingers extended. Judgment is then issued in favor of the other champion.”
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