The young boy’s father immediately sank to the floor and prostrated himself, signaling his son to follow his example. The traveler had returned and would require worship.
****
When the inputs from his body overwhelmed his brain, an automatic response was initiated. His body would shut down, and Al would go to sleep. This overload condition happened after he jumped into the teleporter. Usually, his systems would reboot after thirty minutes, but this time, the process took a little longer.
When Al awoke, he was greeted with a buzzing in his head and a pounding headache. His vision returned slowly and progressed from blurry blobs to clarity. When his vision cleared enough to understand what was before him, he found a boy and a man, with a bright light laying on the floor beside them pointed in his direction. He looked for the dragon, but it appeared he was alone in the box.
He whispered, “Falkor? Where are you?”
In the same place where he was when they left Avalon, the corner acquired color and became a green dragon, a very relieved dragon that flapped its wings and squeaked.
“Shhh—you must be quiet Falkor. It’s bad enough they saw me. If they see you, they might freak-out.”
Al did not need to say more. Falkor looked at the two lying on the floor and seemed to understand. He disappeared again.
While watching the two figures, Al slowly stood. They did not look up, and their noses remained touching the floor. A glance around the chamber located a glowing blue button that he knew would open the door.
He thought, Here I go again with first contact. I hope it goes better than the last time.
Once before, he had met the people inhabiting an alien world for the first time, and it could have gone better. He and Elizabeth were caught unprepared, and with the language barrier they did not accomplish much. The meeting ended with the Earthlings giving the natives chocolate and telling them to go home. He was not trained in this area and preferred to leave further contact to the professionals.
This occasion was similar in one regard; he had to get them up off the ground to speak to them. Al touched the button and the door appeared. As he stepped outside, he felt something brush his pant leg and knew the lizard was following.
He told them to stand up. They were too frightened to even look up, so Al insisted. “Please stand up, I will not harm you, and I am not what you think,” he offered.
The man stood with reluctance and the boy soon after.
He could not expect to make them understand, but he had to try, “My name is Al Clark. I’m an explorer, and my travels have brought me here. Can you tell me what you call this planet?”
Darius was confused, but replied, “You have returned to the land of Thera, my lord. We have awaited your return for many years.”
For a fleeting second, it registered the stranger was speaking English, but Al moved on, “My return?—what do you mean?”
“Are you not The Traveler?”
“I am sorry, but—,” and then his leg gave out, causing him to crash to the floor. The transport to this planet had affected the computer’s interface between body and mind, and his headache was getting worse.
“Come Dusty; we must take him home. He is not well,” said Darius.
He half walked and was half carried to the small, modest shack the Forman’s called home. No one saw them as they hurried up the street, and behind them, tiny footprints appeared in the dirt as Falkor tried to keep up.
****
Al woke up to the smell of bacon and biscuits. The bed he woke up in consisted of stacked layers of fur pelts, upon a frame made of wood. The room was small, with a dirt floor and one small glass window allowing morning light to flood the interior. A wooden table occupied a corner and held a bowl of water with a towel next to it. Above the table was a small shelf with three ragged books—written in English.
The trip to this house in the dark was a blur to Al, and he had little opportunity to make an assessment of the town before he collapsed onto the bed. His systems had made him sleep to recalibrate the link between body and mind, and it apparently worked. The buzzing in his head and the headache was gone, and he was moving without difficulty.
Al whispered, “Falkor…are you here?”
He heard a soft squeak at the end of the bed, and the dragon appeared. He rose from his place in the dirt and came to sit before Al. Al looked for signs of illness and saw none. “Are you okay?”
The creature tilted his head and blinked, and then walked a tight circle to return to his sitting position.
Al smiled and said, “Feeling better huh?”
Falkor flapped his wings twice, lifting his taloned feet off the ground.
“Looks like it, but I need you to stay here for the time being so I can prepare them for meeting you. I will bring you some food as soon as possible. Can you do that?”
It was hard to tell if he understood, by the look of his face, but he settled back down and disappeared. When Al opened the door and walked into the main room, both natives turned to face him and bowed.
“Let’s get something straight right away. I am not a god, or a lord, or anything like that. I am a man like you—from a different planet. There will be no bowing or kissing the floor.”
Darius dared to speak, asking with trepidation, “You are not the Traveler?”
I am a traveler, but probably not the traveler you think I am. Tell me about this traveler.”
Both man and boy looked up, surprise apparent on their faces. Darius finally got a good look at his guest and simultaneously realized he was acting rudely. In a rush of words, he said, “I have been remiss of my manners. Please sit, and eat with us.”
The two men sat at the worn table, and Dusty served them. While filling Al’s plate, he risked a question of his own, “What has happened to the dragon, kind sir?”
The question surprised Al. “What dragon?” he answered lamely.
“The one I saw inside the sacred chamber,” said Dusty.
The boy has seen the dragon, and Al saw no reason to continue the deception.
“All right—Falkor? Show yourself if you want to eat.”
The dragon appeared by Al’s feet. His green scales taking color. He must have followed Al out and was there all along.
“My friends, this is Falkor. He is from a planet that has turned uninhabitable, and I could not leave him, so I brought him with me. There is no danger—he’s a friendly dragon.”
Falkor and Dusty were instant friends, and when Dusty offered him a slice of bacon, the dragon ignored the offering and showed more interest in a bowl of fruit hanging over the table. It seemed Falkor was a vegetarian. Then the adults settled down to eat, talk and learn about each other.
****
Before they could begin eating, Darius said, “It is good we found you before King Agenor,” “I am afraid he would not have liked to see your return. He is quite comfortable the way things are.”
“You have a king?”
“He is the ruler of Thera, and controls the Temple we took you from—but please, you must be hungry after your long journey. Eat and drink; we will talk after.”
The bacon was good. Taken from an animal similar to a pig, it tasted very much like the bacon from Earth. With the buttered biscuits came a light white wine to wash it all down. It wasn’t long, and Al was feeling like himself again; functioning at one hundred percent.
“All right, what can you tell me about the Temple?” asked Al.
Darius took a sip of the homemade wine and collected his thoughts. There was a lot of history to cover and not long before someone noticed the strange guest in their house.
“The temple was discovered almost three generations ago. In the beginning, it was chaos, with the people pillaging and destroying the treasures there, until a man named Phegus organized a group to protect and study the wondrous find. He did such a good job that the people made him king of the land and lord of the temple.
“Today the king is Agenor. He is the grandson of Phegus a
nd rules under a harsher hand. He is not the man his grandfather or father were. He controls all access to the temple, and it is he that is responsible for the construction of the castle. Look out through the window, see what he is having us do.”
Al pulled the cloth curtain to the side and there on the lower slopes of a flat-topped mountain stood a half-completed castle. Construction platforms rose from the ground to cover the exterior, with stones and equipment gathered close by ready for use, but no one was working.
Al asked, “Where are the workers?”
“Today is worship day. The day of reckoning. It is our only day without labor.”
“Worship day? What are you worshipping?”
“We are praying for the return of the traveler.”
“—and who is the Traveler?”
“He is the one destined to save us from death when the end comes.”
“Death?”
Darius took a breath and answered, “Let me explain. There were scholars in my grandfather’s time that studied the writings left by the gods that inhabited the temple long ago. They spoke of terrible things happening, and a god in the guise of a man would come from the Sacred Chamber to save us. Then he would take us to the Promised Land. That is what they said. I was not a believer until I saw you.”
“I am not your traveler.” Al declared. “I’m just Al Clark—an explorer—and I am visiting new places and documenting my findings.”
“How is it we found you inside the chamber that cannot be opened?”
Now it was Al’s turn to give an explanation.
“Your ‘sacred chamber’ is a long distance teleportation device, designed to transport people and material from planet to planet. My last trip put me where there was nothing but desert. It is where I found Falkor.”
“There are more places such as this?”
“Yes, my friend, there are many places like this. The stars in the sky you marvel at have many worlds circling them—and there are billions of stars.”
Dusty sat in his chair with his mouth open, his young mind so occupied, he did not think to close it.
Chapter Four
Al learned he was on an island, the oceans surrounding it too vast to be explored by the primitive boats of the people inhabiting it.
The natives called it Thera, and it resided in a temperate zone where the weather was almost always pleasant. It was ten miles wide, and thirty miles long, with an ancient mountain at one end. The town grew around the base of the small alp, with close to six hundred people calling it home.
The islanders discovered the temple many years ago when most preferred the forests and meadows at the far end of the atoll. When word spread about the sacred place found inside the mountain, on the slopes of the giant mound called Vision Peak, the migration began. A town was born.
The holy temple faced towards the large end of the land mass, which made it the perfect location for observation, and was originally meant to monitor the activities of those that lived here. Like the rest of the alien research outpost’s, for some unknown reason, the facility was abandoned, making Al the first person to use the teleporter in an extremely long time.
King Agenor had complete control over the inhabitants of Thera. No one was allowed to visit the site unless requested by the king and sometimes the summoned never returned. He decided what products were produced inside the temple and traded them as payment for labor. The people could not grow enough food, or catch enough fish on the limited resources of the island, so one-third of the food came from the facility that overlooked the town, and in payment, they worked for the tyrant who held it.
There were unique items that trickled out on occasion; glass for windows, pocket knives, rings, ink pens with paper, and cooking stoves that required no fuel and lasted for years. Miracles of technology the townspeople could never hope to reproduce. Some of the products given as presents and some sold at exorbitant prices.
Darius paid dearly for the tiny portable light he gave his son for his twelfth birthday, and still had a week’s worth of work ahead to pay for it. He had a neighbor that showed him one. The man knew somebody that knew someone else and only paid two chickens and a knife. It was that bright slim lightstick that inspired him to give Dusty a gift worthy of the occasion. He did not, however, have the proper contacts to receive the deal his neighbor did. He paid the high price the man in the dark alley asked, without question, and without regret.
Royal coins, produced inside the temple, were used as currency. Unfortunately, on their one day off the citizens were required to attend church and pay tribute to the place where the traveler would return. Money was in short supply. It was a forced symbiosis, where the monarchy fed off the needs of the townspeople.
The king convinced enough people that everything he did was for the greater good of the kingdom, and these people are now his guards and entourage. Recently he began posting guards outside the temple at night. King Agenor grew up having his way and relished the power provided him with being king. His citizens now worked to surround his temple with a stone castle; to hide it from the world. Building his castle was all they did for six days a week.
Al stayed in the house the first two days, afraid of too many questions from the curious townsfolk who might recognize him as an outsider. He and Falkor reluctantly stayed in the house, awaiting the return of the occupants. Dusty brought him a book produced by the enlightened scholars in the temple that was supposed to be based on historical fact, but struck Al more as flowery propaganda. On the second night at dinner, he had more questions.
“Has anybody ever come from across the ocean?”
“No,” replied Darius. “We have stories, but none that can be proven. The King would have us believe we are the chosen ones and keepers of this world.”
“Did you know that the actual history of your people is inside your temple?”
“Many have suspected such. Only the scholars of the King are allowed to study the ancient writings.”
Al was still undecided about how much he should tell these hard-working, kind benefactors. He had solid reasons for keeping his mission a secret, but there were things they needed to know.
“Your ‘Temple,' as you call it, is an alien research outpost established by a race that seeded many worlds with humanoid life. They brought your people to this world, and a big part of your history is recorded and stored in the temple.”
Dusty was a good listener and brighter than the average twelve-year-old. He only spoke when he had a valid question. He said, “This place we live is called Thera. The name comes from inscriptions inside the temple, and tells us what to call our home—may I ask—where you are from?”
“Originally, I am from a planet called Earth.”
From that humble beginning tumbled Al’s story. He needed an ally if only to operate the controls to get home, but there was something about their nature that made him want to trust them. He also thought they could help each other, so he told them everything—well, almost everything.
****
He told them a fantastic story of colonial starships, with rows and rows of people in a deep sleep that lasted for decades. He described his rude awakening and the events that followed. How he and Chris began the process of waking the ship. He recalled with fond memory the party they had when they saw Avalon for the first time through the observation window, slowly turning below, and realized they were already home.
He spoke of how the colonists had befriended the natives, and when he and Liz almost bungled first contact. How they arranged Camelot and worked tirelessly to create a pleasant place to live and how the predators of Avalon attacked them, shattering their endeavor for happy, peaceful lives; forcing them into the cramped basement of the Caretaker outpost.
“You wish to bring your people here?” asked Darius.
“Well…yes. Maybe not here on the island, but here on this planet.”
“There is no place other than this. We have found only water as far as our boats can take us. You would
have to live here. How many are there?”
“Four hundred and fifty-two colonists, plus twenty natives.”
“That is all that remains from the one thousand on your ship?”
“Yes. Some we lost getting here, and the Riktors got the rest.” Al felt he needed to explain, “The beasts were smarter than we gave them credit for…than I gave them credit for.”
They talked until early morning, trading questions and answers. Al did not, however, mention his special abilities, or his heroics and the people he had managed to save. He thought it best they found out in their own time. Then he would try to explain himself.
He spent a week hiding in the Foreman house during the day, and after their overnight talk began to go out at night to survey the countryside. He left on his first trip before sunset, wearing a hooded jacket like many of the townsfolk wore he walked past the outskirts of town and then ran. Following the shoreline, he avoided the temple and then scrambled up to the top of the mountain.
It was a good run, even in enhanced mode. His augmented vision helped, and his legs made quick work of the distance. It was twilight, and the sun was setting over the water when he arrived to find the top of the mountain was not flat, but concave, with steam rising from the bottom of a pit two hundred feet below.
At the highest point available he swept the horizon, and from his vantage point, he saw no sign of land in the distance. All he saw was rippling water, as far as the eye could see. In the morning, he asked Darius about the mountain. “How long has it been steaming like that?”
“It has always had a mist above it, and sometimes there are visions. That is how it got the name Vision Peak.”
Thera Page 3