Runalli-4

by Roland Byrd

  Part 2

  Temporarily blind and nauseous, from the trip through the portal, I fell to my knees on a surface like soft foam. The scent of ozone and familiar hum of a portal platform surrounded me.

  I was at a portal site.

  I didn’t know where. That didn’t trouble me though. Her presence lingered in my mind and I felt safe.

  I heard a click, followed by the sucking sound of a pressurized door opening. The furious babble of hundreds of voices and the mechanical hum of countless vehicles assailed me. In reflex I pressed my palms to my ears, a vain effort to block the sound.

  A small hand touched my arm.

  I started.

  A tiny voice penetrated the den, “Sir, are you all right?” The familiarity of her accent gnawed at me. Yet, it had been so long... I couldn’t place it.

  “Yes. Thank you, I’m fine.” I croaked a lie as the noise faded.

  She persisted, “But sir...you’re covered in blood! Let me get a medic.” Her hands gently lifted. I allowed her to help me stand. Then she carefully led me to a bench, helped me sit, and left in search of a medic.

  My sight returned before the owner of the tiny voice. Colors and light came first, faint splashes bursting in blackness, then vague shapes on a light canvas. Finally the shapes grew distinct.

  Though it had been over half my lifetime since I last visited, I recognized where I was.

  Home. Earth Prime.

  And, like any traveler returning home after a long absence, I saw many things were the same while feeling surprise that so much had changed.

  I was next to a park. People sat, played, ate, even slept on the thick carpet of grass. Elm, pine, and oak trees were scattered in stands throughout the park. Trees and flowers lined the walks. Sunlight danced on the surface of a small lake in the center of it all.

  At the edge of the park an iridescent force-shield formed a dome, protecting us from the altitude, holding out the blue-black sky of near space.

  Beyond that, a sports coliseum topped a distant platform like the cap of a giant mushroom floating in the sky. Undoubtedly the noise originated there. As if confirming my suspicions, a thunderous roar and fireworks erupted over the stadium.

  To my right was the portal. Its bulky mechanical archway and data entry pad encased in a clear dome, right where I’d expect them.

  The portal operator stood patiently next to the keypad, waiting for the next customer. I wondered how I’d slipped past him unnoticed. But when he threw a quick glance my way I realized I hadn’t.

  I turned away and noticed two figures walking across the grass toward me. A small Asian female with boyish but pretty features led a young Anglo male. He wore a short white coat with a red cross on the pocket and carried a small bag.

  When they were close enough, she smiled and asked, “Are you feeling better?”

  “I can see again.” I said wryly and winked.

  She smiled and pointed to the medic, “This is Tom. He’ll fix you up.” The young medic’s eyes widened when he saw me. I couldn’t blame him. I looked horrible. My neck and shirt were black with dried blood. The rest of me was coated with sweat, dirt, and grime.

  “Thank you.” I said.

  She nodded and waived, walked to the portal, and took her place next to the man at the controls.

  The medic knelt before me, concern echoed in his eyes. He re-introduced himself as Tom and began examining me.

  “What happened?” He asked while he cleaned the bite wounds on my neck.

  I explained I’d been attacked by an animal, escaped, and fled the planet where it happened.

  He looked at me incredulously. It was easy to see he didn’t believe me. I couldn’t blame him. If I hadn’t lived it, I wouldn’t believe my story either.

  After a moment of silence, Tom shook his head like a teacher who’s caught a naughty child in a lie. But he didn’t press the issue.

  He finished dressing my wounds, sat back, and said, “You’re very lucky. Two millimeters deeper and that animal would have punctured your carotid artery. You’d have bled to death.”

  It was a sobering thought and only brought more questions to mind. How had she known where I was or that I needed aid? How did a portal exist without any of the machinery necessary to generate it? When would I see her again? Why did those beasts defer to her, treating her with reverence and respect?

  My questions would have to wait. How long, I couldn’t know. But I had her promise; in time she would answer them.

  I thanked Tom and asked him where I could get a cab. He pointed to the airlock and wished me well.

  As I walked away I chuckled. Will Tom’s friends ever believe him?

  At the airlock I ordered a taxi. I didn’t have credits with me but I wasn’t worried; on Earth Prime my DNA was all I needed to complete any financial transaction. And since I rarely spent my commissions, I had plenty of credit at my disposal.

  I looked through the observation window at the ground far below and waited impatiently for my cab.

  The first thing I wanted to do was eat. I couldn’t remember ever feeling this hungry! But I needed a shower and change of clothes too.

  OK. Eat, shower, and change. Those were top priority. After that...

  I didn’t know.

  ˜˜˜˜

  I’ve done as she asked and lived my life. Now I’m old, weary, reaching the point where science and medicine’s combined advancements will no longer stay death.

  Two hundred five! When I was a child, one hundred thirty was ancient. Still, there’s only so much they can do to preserve a dying man. And I am dying; I feel it in my bones, in my soul.

  Where is she?

  The Suenarian expedition to Kuthgar-9 vanished without a trace. The planet swallowed them whole and didn’t leave even a bone behind, as it did those sent to investigate their disappearance.

  After the second group of investigators vanished, the planet was deemed hostile and uninhabitable. The Suenarians were forced to abandon the world.

  It seemed the creatures I met got their wish. Or perhaps there’s a greater, darker intelligence on Kuthgar-9. Until some brave or foolish group attempts to conquer the planet again, we’ll never know.

  As the sole survivor of the Kuthgar-9 expedition, I was investigated. I told them bits of the truth, just enough to fit the facts they had; that while running from creatures bent on killing me, I’d stumbled through a portal and emerged on Earth Prime.

  Of course they didn’t believe me.

  I never expected them to.

  But they had nothing to hold me on and had to let me go.

  As I walked out, a short squat fellow with an angular face grabbed my arm and promised, “You haven’t heard the last of this…”

  I don’t know what they told their supervisors, but that was over one hundred-forty years ago.

  They’ve never come back.

  Where is she?

  I don’t have the time or desire to recount everything that’s happened since she saved my life on Kuthgar-9. Suffice it to say, I’ve seen her ageless beauty from time to time and she’s saved my life more than once.

  I ache to be near her, to gaze upon her one last time. My desire, love, need for her never diminished. I’m still haunted by her promise, made long ago, of answers to unasked questions, and by a single kiss.

  Other, softer loves developed over the years. I even married once, though it disintegrated like all my relationships. I could never fully give myself to any of them. My heart was torn and they got the scraps.

  Yes, they deserved better. But how can you give what you don’t possess?

  Now I’m waiting. I’ve said goodbye to my children and those who matter.

  My bones are brittle and tired, unfit for space flight, and my body too weak to use the portals. Yet a great deal of currency, platinum bars not traceable credits, convinced a portal operator to let me pass—a dying man’s wish.

  I thought it fitting that this should end where it began, on Runalli-4. />
  Where is she?

  The Four Moons Café is still around. Hoxbor’s grandson runs it now. When I entered, I was speechless. It’s amazing how some things remain unchanged, protected from time’s cruel touch. I felt as if I’d traveled back to that night, so long ago, when I first saw her.

  Now I wait.

  It’s been twenty days. When the café closes at night, I go to the local inn and pretend to sleep in the closet they call a room. During the day and evening I sit in the café, where I wait and hope and dream of her.

  Soon… I know the time is near. I’ll see her soon.

  Where is she?

  Foolish old man!

  With a start I realize my chin’s resting on my chest and my eyes are closed. I must have dozed. But for how long? Did I miss her? My eyelids resist; they’re weary too and fight opening. It seems to take all my strength; a millimeter, a centimeter, slowly I remind them who’s in control and they yield.

  My eyes won’t focus at first. You’re wearing out old man—but I’ve known this, felt it coming for a long time. It takes a moment, but the worn table swims into focus at an odd angle. Ah, my chin still rests on my chest. Oh the joys of being so old!

  As I lift my head I see a hand—my heart skips. The hand, clean and pale, an image of perfection, rests on the table. Heart pounding like a teenager in heat, cheeks flushed, I look up.

  She’s sitting across from me, smiling patiently. She hasn’t aged. Drops of time have worn cracks and crevasses in my old skin, yet she remains immune to them. Her emerald eyes, auburn hair, and delicate face capture me as quickly as they did the first time I saw her; as quickly as they have each time I’ve