Ashlyn Chronicles 1: 2287 A.D.

by Glenn Van Dyke

  Steven realized the truthfulness in his words. Stratton was right. He’d been so intoxicated by Ashlyn that he had not thought of the vial even once. “You’re right, Stratton. I won’t make that mistake again. I’ll be okay. I know what’s at stake. I promise to keep her at arm’s length from now on.”

  “No disrespect, sir—but it’s not your arm I’m worried about!” Stratton’s grin conveyed his apprehension.

  Steven smiled. “Stratt—how’s Earth holding up? Have we suffered any damage from the Moon?”

  Stratton gave a twisted grin. “Topside, things are pretty extreme. Obviously, lots of impacts from the debris around the globe. There have been thousands of major quakes, hundreds of thousands of small ones. The Yellowstone caldera is registering greatly increased activity. Gena is unclear at this time as to its stability. Land temperatures have risen by an average of 3-degrees. Some regions are getting colder, some warmer. There are fires everywhere driven by hurricane force winds—lots of rain and flooding. Tsunamis are racing around the globe. In most coastal regions, you can’t tell there had ever been a city there. It’s all gone. For the most part, it looks like the surface was never inhabited. Down here, there have been quite a few landslides on the walls of the trench, none of which are close enough to be threatening to us. We have the domes’ dampeners set to maximum as a protective measure. So far, we’re doing okay. No significant damage to report. Reactor levels are optimal. Gena is charting everything. We should have a better handle on where things will settle in at in a few weeks. Whatever happens—base scuttlebutt seems to agree that it was worth it. We took that bastard’s fleet out.”

  Stratton gave a sigh. “Anything else, sir?”

  Steven shook his head. “Thanks, Stratt. You did great.”

  “As did you, sir.” He threw a glance in Ashlyn’s direction. “Please be careful, sir. We need you!” Stratton smiled, nodded, and then departed.

  While Steven stood there, nervously waiting for Ashlyn, he could not help but trace her every rounded curve, nook, and cranny. The necklace hid nothing—yet accentuated everything. His mind was ablaze with passion. His body screaming to take her.

  Maybe Stratton should have stayed? Internally, he was at war with his decision. A big part of him wanted to be alone with her, and for all the wrong reasons.

  The last person finally excused himself and Ashlyn turned to face Steven. “Congratulations, Commander.” He felt anxious to break down the walls of his nervousness. “Awarding you the medal was a great privilege, Ashlyn. I am honored.”

  “Thank you, sir. I appreciative it. Part of this really belongs to you, though. It was in your mind that I saw it was a doomsday missile. If not for that, I wouldn’t have known to try and stop it.”

  Steven shook his head. “It’s all yours. You did the heavy lifting, Ash—and please, drop the formal protocols when we are alone. The intimacy we’ve shared within the fugue shattered that formality two months ago.”

  “Yes—it did. Steven, I would like to apologize if my banter was an embarrassment to you. I meant no disrespect.”

  “No apology necessary. The only embarrassment was my own. I hung myself out like a piñata and handed you the stick. After my jesting, you had every right to whack the living daylights out of me. And I must admit, you succeeded in grand style,” said Steven. “If anything, I owe you an apology. I just wasn’t ready for, you.” His eyes again raced around each curve. “When I saw you walking toward me I really did feel like I was sixteen again, complete with raging hormones. I reacted childishly. I couldn’t stop myself.”

  Ashlyn smiled sweetly. Not wanting him to bear the responsibility alone. “That childish side is a normal part of the male psyche. There is a part of every man that never grows up. He’s forever that little eight-year old boy, or sixteen-year old, in your case,” said Ashlyn. “Women learn to live with it, and sometimes, we find it downright sexy.

  “Perhaps I am also to blame for your reaction. After all our time in the fugue together, I didn’t realize that my attire would affect you as strongly as it did. If you prefer me to dress—”

  “It’s not the attire,” said Steven, interrupting her. “It’s what’s under the attire—and—not under it. It’s you.” His eyes lowered, shifting left, then right, then back again, staring at her rounded curves. His groin tightened. “But, no, Ashlyn. Though my opinion is definitely biased, I don’t want you to dress differently. I don’t want you to change a thing. Tynabo had tried to explain that it is who you are. It wouldn’t be right for us to ask you to go against your genetic makeup. In time, we will adjust. Personally—yes, I find your necklace to be daringly sexy and unrestrained, but I also see it as an exquisitely beautiful statement. You have reminded all of us that there is more to being human than making strategic battle plans and following sterile regulations. You are a rainbow in a world of grey. I am not saying that men will not be men. They will. They will stare, drool, and think about doing all sorts of crazy things. After all, we’re human. I’m human.” If you only knew all the crazy things, I’d like to do to you.

  “And I you.”

  Steven cocked his head. “Did you just—?”

  “Uh-huh. I hear everything you’re thinking. I thought it fair to tell you. I have been trying to filter it so as not to intrude on your privacy, but some of your thoughts are just too—visual. It won’t be long before you can block it, though. This is a learning experience for both of us.”

  “I’m sorry, Ash.” He thought back, recalling all the bendy, uninhibited things he had pictured doing to her—things that most men cannot even tell their wives. He felt a flush of embarrassment.

  “No reason to be embarrassed. I want you to do all those bendy things to me. It’s flattering.”

  “Ash, how come I can’t read your mind?”

  “I think it’s by design, part of my empathic, nurturing abilities. I’m glad you can’t, though,” she chided with a broad smile. “Then I’d be embarrassed, because you’d see all the bendy things I want to do to you.”

  I would love to see that list, Steven thought. Though Steven was feverish with desire, he continued, “Ash, it’s important that you understand how important you are to us—infinitely important. I saw it reflected in the wide smiles and bright, sparkling eyes of the faces tonight. For the first time since the attack sixteen years ago—they were happy. You rekindled a fire in us that died a long time ago. Tynabo was right when he compared you to Pandora. You’ve brought hope back to us.”

  Ashlyn tilted her head slightly. “That’s a lot to live up to.”

  “It is, Ash—the pedestal we’ve put you on is tall and it casts an even bigger shadow. Nevertheless, you need to realize that it is because they believe in you. I believe in you. My advice—stay true to you. You’re a leader that everyone will follow,” said Steven. “It’s more than a want; they need you to stay the way you are. And if I may—I want you—to stay the way you are.”

  Ashlyn saw the full depth of the true meaning behind his words. “Thank you—and—no more than I want you.” Her words let him know that he was not alone in his desires.

  “Steven, before we tackle the big question before us, if you’d indulge me, I have something I’d like to show you.” Ashlyn glanced behind her to see if they were alone, and just as she did so, the auditorium door closed behind the last person leaving.

  “All right,” said Steven, nervously apprehensive, his eyes racing over her.

  “Gena, lock the auditorium doors, please. Override ability is to be given to myself and the admiral only, with the admiral’s consent, of course.” Ashlyn raised a playful, questioning eyebrow to Steven.

  “So ordered,” said Steven, even as he felt himself pole vaulting over a threshold he had hoped not to cross. He was trapped, unable to take his eyes off her.

  “Auditorium doors are now locked,” confirmed Gena.

  “Now that you’ve got me, right where I want you!” said Ash with a broad smile. “Gena, activate the privacy blackout for
the exterior of the dome and then start holo-program, Night-Dreams.”

  As the clear palladium-glass dome went dark outside, providing them alone time, the internal lights dimmed—revealing the first and brightest of the early evening stars. Within moments, the sky transformed into a warmly painted sunset of purple, orange, blue, and pink, silhouetting a layering of white clouds on the western horizon.

  In the background, the crashing waves of a light surf grew louder, closer. A seagull squawked in the distance. The walls, floor, and furniture of the conference room suddenly shimmered out of existence, becoming a lush South Pacific island. Crystal-clear water and white-frothing waves lapped against the shore as a trio of gulls sailed on the breeze above them.

  Steven stood in amazement, feeling the warm, salt scented breeze whisking against his face. Turning to Ashlyn, he saw that her arms were out to her sides, her eyes closed. She was basking, taking in the warm breeze that soothed her skin. Her cape and ponytail fluttered behind her. The palm tree fronds swayed back and forth as was the grass bowing rhythmically before the waves of gentle wind.

  The fine, white sand beneath his feet shifted, scrunching under his weight. He knelt and scooped up a handful of sand, sifting it between his fingers. It had a natural, grainy texture and even some captured warmth from the sun. No detail was lacking, no nuance missing. It had all the ambiance of a real beach, a real ocean.

  It stirred a distant childhood memory within him. When he looked to his left and saw a log lolling in the surf, a smile came to his face. “It’s Fiji—I was here when I was a kid.” Steven started walking toward the log. Just as he remembered, snagged in a piece of fishing-net on the other side was a small sea turtle. Steven’s mouth fell open.

  “Ashlyn, how did you do this?” He turned to look at her. She smiled at him through the most sensually alluring eyes he had ever seen. Everything about you is amazing.

  Turning back to the snagged turtle, Steven knelt, and after freeing it from the fishing net, he carried the turtle out into the water. Giving it a gentle push, he watched it swim away into the deeper, almost glowing, turquoise-colored water. When he saw it dive below the surface, he smiled. It was exactly the way it happened before, when he was nine. Steven was dumbfounded. “Ash, this virtual re-enactment—how did you do it?”

  “To explain this.” Ashlyn spun in a circle and extended her arms so that she encompassed the entire scene around them. “One night, when I came to you, I saw all of this in your dream. You had the biggest grin on your face. You were such a cute little boy. Being able to see you then was a blessing. Then, late one night I was searching the storage dome for the materials to make a few outfits when I came across an inventory list that showed that there were some advanced interactive holo-units gathering dust in storage. Apparently, they were part of the original design for the auditorium, but the attack interrupted things and they were never installed. I made a pet project out of it. Once installed, it was just a matter of giving Gena access to my memory of this moment and having her download it into the unit and, Voila! You have paradise.”

  She gazed at him with affection. “This is my gift to you.”

  Chapter 8

  “Steven, I wish this moment could last forever. I do—” Ashlyn seemed to slip away, lost in thought as she watched a large, crashing wave strike a rock just offshore. “But we have important matters to discuss.”

  Steven took a deep breath preparing himself for the conversation that he had known was coming.

  Ash continued, “Right now, time is our enemy and you have important decisions to make. When the time comes that we have our first—” Ashlyn paused as she fought to find the words.

  Steven decided to fill in the gap, quoting directly from Tynabo, “Intimate contact.”

  “Yes, intimate contact,” she parroted. “For as deep as our passions are now, they’ll expand a hundredfold.”

  “That might just kill me,” said Steven with more seriousness than jest. His attention was drawn to Ashlyn’s inner thighs as he heard the long, swaying, lower strands of Ashlyn’s body-necklace softly clinking together, blown off to the side by the wind.

  She saw his distraction. “If it helps, I’m every bit as desirous of you as you are of me.” Without her even realizing it, so inherent was her need to please him that she shifted her weight onto one leg and kicked the other leg out to the side. She widened her stance, opening herself to him.

  “That’s not possible,” responded Steven as he smacked his lips in automated response to what he was seeing.

  “Well, I am.” She paused, her tongue darting between her lips. “Just—take my word for it.”

  Though her words were meant to be supportive, seeing Ashlyn basting her lips heightened his desires. Desperately in need of distraction, he sought out answers. “Ash, when you appeared to me aboard Avenger, you said that our encounters were real.”

  “In all the important ways, they are. What the mind experiences in the fugue, the body perceives as reality. What is actually happening is that our physical auras are empowering a conduit between our minds to open. When the conduit is open, the metaphysical reality tries to satisfy the body’s physical needs and the mind’s desires. So, for all practical purposes, it is real. It’s just on a heightened plane that other people can’t experience in their isolated, singular consciousness.”

  Steven sighed. “About what Tynabo said, am I really a creation of the Foundation?”

  “Steven, didn’t you access the private files on the recorder?”

  “Private files? I didn’t know there were any private files.”

  Ashlyn chuckled. “Well, you did have your hands full.”

  Steven’s eyes involuntarily dropped to her breasts.

  Ashlyn frowned playfully. “There’s that sixteen-year-old again. I had meant saving the world. To answer your question though, the answer is, yes. Like me, you are one of Tynabo’s creations. As regards to your parents, it’s true. Biologically you weren’t theirs, but please understand, they were as much a victim in this as you were, maybe more so. Your parents raised you believing that you were their son, created from their genetic DNA. It is important for you to know that the Foundation picked them specifically for you, because they were good, moral people. Tynabo wanted you to have a good heart. He knew that powerful abilities without a solid foundation could easily lead to corruption. Even the president was proud of what your parents helped you to become.”

  Steven interjected, “Speaking of President Tomlinson—he’d started to tell me about you as he was being attacked, but his transmission ended just as he was about to reveal your location. It’s hard to accept that because of one missing word, we were kept apart all these years.”

  Ashlyn nodded. “What you missed in Tynabo’s file was his explanation about how the Foundation had been around for centuries, secretly operating under each presidential administration—but that it was under President Tomlinson’s forty-year term in office that you and I were finally created. You were President Tomlinson’s prize pupil. Out of all Tynabo’s creations, you were the only one who chose to go to the Academy. Only you wanted to go to the stars. Your parents made you into the man you are now. It was they who encouraged that dream within you. They loved you deeply.”

  Steven grinned. “Thank you, Ash. My parents were good people. They had a lot of empathy for others. I miss them terribly.” Steven’s head dipped as he took a private moment to himself.

  Broken from his silence by a gull that landed nearby, Steven continued, “Ash—did you always know about me?”

  Ash shook her head. “I knew I had a genetic mate, but they never told me who it was. All they told me was that the two of us were going to be introduced on our twenty-fourth birthday, the day everyone takes the K9 serum. When our meeting was delayed, I knew something was wrong.”

  It was because of Ren and I, Steven thought to himself. “Then the attack came,” added Steven, moving the conversation forward.

  “Yes. Then the attack came an
d Tynabo put all of us into stasis.” Ashlyn drifted off, her thoughts deep, her sadness evident.

  “I’m sorry, Ash. I never acknowledged your loss. My distractions are no excuse for my lack of compassion. I am truly sorry about Tynabo and your friends. I can’t imagine how hard it must be for you.”

  With a small nod, Ashlyn silently thanked him. “I don’t agree with Tynabo’s decision to terminate everyone to save us—but I know he did what he thought was best.”

  Ashlyn’s words brought to mind the horrifying images of what he had seen minutes before. “Ash, what happened to us up on the podium? What I saw...” Steven trailed off.

  “My best guess is that I had a vision, and because you were standing so close to me, with our mental sync, you experienced it as well. It was the second one I have had. The vision was showing me future moments in my life—but I think it is wise to use caution and not jump to conclusions. Interpretation of the future can be dangerous, not to mention frustrating.” Ashlyn rocked up onto her tippy-toes and began bouncing, a playful, childlike smile on her face. “The good news is that I’m going to the Sirius system with you.”

  Though the visual of seeing her battle-ravaged body and himself crying over her grave was emotionally shattering, Ashlyn’s light-hearted enthusiasm was contagious. Steven grinned. “Yes, I guess you are.”

  “Steven, I know you have hundreds of questions, and I’ll answer all of them for you in time, but right now, we really need to address the most important question.”

  Steven, hanging on every word from her, was riddled with anxiety over what she would say next. He felt like a small child being told a ghost story, and the ghost was about to jump out and grab him.

  “As you know, our lives are at risk.” Ash continued on, barely stopping to take a breath, “We have that one more, big step to take.”

  Steven’s heart sped.

  “We’re already pushing the envelope. I’ve been having severe headaches, dizziness—”