by RMGilmour
Copyright
The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Copyright © Roslyn Gilmour 2015
All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher constitute unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher at [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
ISBN: 978-1-48-355143-2
Contents
1 First Contact
2 Decisions
3 The Baring of One’s Soul
4 First Sight
5 Grid
6 The Colony
7 A New Life
8 The Tree Hut
9 Jordan
10 Someone New
11 The Arena
12 Crumbling Walls
13 Memories
14 Beyond the City
15 Hera
16 The Spire
17 My City
18 The Gift
19 Painted Skies
20 Misspoken Words
21 The Guardian’s Instrument
22 Mason
23 The Option
24 Lost Souls
25 Sacrifice
26 Surrender
27 Reprisal
28 Grace
29 Of Friends and Family
Epilogue – Signals
There are two Souls, whose equal flow
In gentle stream so calmly run,
That when they part–they part?–ah no!
They cannot part–those Souls are One.
- Lord Byron (George Gordon)
Stanzas to Jessy (29-32)
THE COLONY
RMGilmour
1
First Contact
“Really?” I cursed at my shoes.
My ankle had twisted for the third time. But I shouldn’t blame the shoes. My fault for thinking I could traverse a forest path in low heels. My fault for not changing before I’d left my apartment. Though I hadn’t given a thought to changing, I’d just left in a big hurry, needing my river.
At the forest edge, I kicked off my shoes, deciding I’d rather brave any prickles hiding in the grassy field that stretched toward the river, than twist my ankle again.
The distraction helped, but not enough. What I needed was to jog the length of the river from end to end; the pounding of my feet upon the soft grass always helped silence the pain. But without my running shoes, jogging barefoot was about as smart as traipsing through the forest in heels.
Having left my apartment on impulse, I was still uncomfortably dressed from my appointment with Dr. Riley. It had gone as well as every other therapy session - he talked and I breathed. But it was there beside the river that I could more easily, deal with the void.
“Three years,” I whispered, and softly clasped my left ring finger, missing that gentle weight. But that only made the void ache worse, and I quickly pulled my hands apart, clenching them both into fists. The emptiness that filled my chest pressed from the inside out as though it was trying to escape the confines of my body and swallow me up entirely. Most days I could deal with it, but today I just wanted to scream.
Upon reaching the river, I hung my legs over the embankment and leaned back upon my elbows. Then staring out at the setting sun, I focused on the colors, pink and orange, as they streaked across the sky, lighting up the few stretches of clouds.
The colorful display worked. The void withdrew its attempted ownership as it retreated along with colors of the sun, leaving the sky in a suspended state of in-between night and day before the stars could begin to shine through.
It was when those stars first appeared that my sense of calm had returned, enough for me to notice the difference inside. I couldn’t say exactly when the change had taken place, I’d been too absorbed by the sky. For I felt for the first time that I wasn’t alone, that I was connected to more than just my own sense of self. That I was whole.
I didn’t move. I didn’t want to breathe or blink. I didn’t want to lose this new feeling, and so I lay there, mesmerized by the glimmering lights in the darkening sky.
“Wow! That was beautiful!” a voice whispered.
I whipped my head around in every direction, my chest constricting as I feared the worst. But there was no one near me. There should have been. His voice was right in my ear.
“Perfect,” I muttered to no one. “Now you can add hearing voices to your shrinks to do list.”
“You can hear me?” he asked.
I jumped to my feet, but didn’t completely stand. If there was someone near I needed to be ready.
“Of course, I can hear you!” I tried to keep my voice from wavering. “Show yourself.”
Staying low to the ground, I watched the field before me for any movement. There was none. It was getting darker by the second, but I was quite sure no one was out there.
“How can you…?” he began.
My fingers grasped the cool blades of grass, steadying me as I twisted around. I glanced down into the trickling river bed and then across to the other side. But it was just another empty field.
“Where are you?” I demanded, but my courage was waning. “This stops right now.”
I’m in your head. And he sighed as though he was the one that needed to accept the fact that we were conversing when we shouldn’t be.
The tightness in my chest relaxed as I released my withheld breath, and I fell forward onto the grass. That time I had distinctly heard the difference; the voice was in my head. I tried not to react. Tried to keep it all inside, and just breathe. I had no idea what I was supposed to do with this, other than to call Dr. Riley first thing in the morning.
Who’s Dr. Riley?
“This isn’t real,” I mumbled. “It can’t be.”
Why not? he whispered. I’m real.
“Nooo,” I sighed. “I’m not crazy, I’m not crazy. I won’t lose any more pieces.”
Clutching at the grass, I remained face down, breathing in its sweet, earthy scent.
Pieces of what?
I groaned, not sure if I should even respond. Though each time he spoke his voice soothed the rough edges of my nerves, calming me despite the insanity, and I rolled over to stare up the glistening sea above me.
“Pieces of me,” I whispered to the stars.
I don’t understand.
It was clear the voice was not going anywhere anytime soon, and so I conceded to the fact that I was going to have a conversation with - possibly - myself. And a male version of myself at that.
“You’re not supposed to,” I told him. “Why? Why now?”
Why now what?
“Why are you in my head now? I was doing ok on my own.”
Well, if the pain I felt when I first connected with you was what you would call ok, then I would not like to be here when you’re not.
“You’re welcome to leave anytime.”
And technically I’m not in your head.
“What does that mean, technically…If you’re not in my head then where are you?”
Where I am, we have a Central Unit, a… machine that is helping me connect to you, to see through your eyes, and to bring back those images. Only you’re not supposed to know I’m here.
“Huh?” was all that would make it out of my mouth.
My fingers gingerly examined my head, feeling for lumps, sure I’d fallen down somewhere on the way to the
river and I’d just forgotten maybe. But my head was fine. Though if my brain was that messed up that I’d conjured… I didn’t know what… then perhaps I should seriously consider Shady Lane.
“Ok, I’ll play along for now…”
What’s Shady Lane?
“You don’t want to know,” I sighed. “At least you speak English.” At least he wasn’t speaking Selenite.
Actually, I don’t. At least, I don’t think I do. The Central Unit’s connection between us would give you the ability to understand me, and vice versa.
My breath erupted from me. The translator part I could understand, it was the connection part I was having trouble with.
“Do you have a name?” I asked, in an effort to keep things simple.
Jordan.
Nice, I thought.
Thank you.
And I stopped. Realization sinking in. “So, you can hear my thoughts too!”
Only when you think them.
“Huh?” I seriously needed to stop saying that.
I can only hear your thoughts when you put them into words, give them substance.
This time I clamped my teeth together, determined not to let that monosyllabic question loose again. I was pretty sure I hadn’t done any light reading lately, on any of the topics he’d brought up so far. If I was finally losing it and talking to myself, then I had no clue where my brain was getting this stuff from.
I sighed once more. Where did I go from here? Where indeed! I thought, realizing he hadn’t actually answered my earlier question.
“Jordan, if you’re not technically in my head, then where are you?”
Ahh, he laughed. The sound vibrated through me as though he was shaking me awake, and I caught my breath, trying to hold on to the new life inside.
But it soon subsided.
“Is that too funny a question?”
Technically, I’m at home, but I’ve also traversed spacetime and am a presence in your head.
“Huh?” Dammit! “What, like a ghost? You’re a ghost in my head. Are you telling me I’m possessed now?”
What’s a ghost?
It was possible someone was messing with me. But I dismissed the idea. I didn’t know anyone.
“The spirit of a person whose body is no longer alive.”
Of course not. I’m as real as you are. We are in a similar space, just different… dimensions. I told you, we have a Central Unit that is connecting me to you.
Great! While I was walking through the forest, he was walking through the stars. Yep, sure thing.
“And how is it doing that?” I asked, but only because it was the most logical question, not because I was expecting to understand the answer.
On the sub-atomic level, there are particles that can shift through multiple planes as easily as you and I are conversing. It is these particles that our Central Unit has aligned, connecting our biological signatures, our unique frequencies. It connects us with those that have the most similar patterns.
What he said made no sense to me. They were just words forming sentences in a way that I’d never before dreamed I would hear words strung together. I digested what I could and vowed to watch the Science channel more often.
“How often do you… connect with… someone?”
Actually, you’re my first attempt, he cleared his throat, pausing before resuming. But no one has come here for quite a long time. The last one that did, had very few images the Central Unit would share with us.
“You… your… people have been here before,” I was not really questioning, more so acknowledging that I’d heard right.
Yes, we can’t see much of our own world so we draw what we can from others.
“To do what with?” I asked, stemming the flood of questions his sentence piqued; I wasn’t yet ready to delve too deeply into a world I wasn’t even sure existed.
To keep us occupied, inspired.
“So, you don’t work?”
We work. We give what we can to the Central Unit and it gives us all our wants, all our needs, keeps us who we are.
“What exactly do you give to it?”
I create images, landscapes mostly. I plan to recreate your sunset and your stars. You have the most extraordinary colors.
“So, you’re… like a painter. That’s a… pleasant way to make a living.”
I’d tried painting and drawing as part of my therapy, and while it was fun, stick figures were all that would come out of my hands, and the paints had only made a mess.
What is it you do?
“I like to write. But so far only two books, and that was before…” I caught myself at the last moment before the memories began, and diverted my response. “But lately, magazine articles, mostly about the importance of keeping one’s identity and financial security when married,” I finished, my voice breaking on the last word.
Hmm.
He didn’t speak for some time causing me to question if I was alone once more. But I still felt whole. The emptiness hadn’t even hinted at returning, and I wondered if this whole feeling that now filled me was him. And if he left, would the feeling go with him?
“Jordan?” I quietly checked. Not that I wanted a voice in my head, but apart from the technical details that my brain was having trouble with, so far it wasn’t so bad.
Yes?
Still there, “You went quiet.”
Just puzzling over what you said. Books I’ve heard of before. But magazine articles? Financial security?
I chuckled. They were such simple concepts, yet too complicated for me to put into one or two sentences.
“It would be easier to show you,” I trailed off, not wanting to go there.
Then show me.
“Well, I can’t… right now. I’d have to go home,” I stumbled over and swallowed my words.
And.
“And nothing.”
It was weird enough as it was, talking to myself or talking to someone in my head, whichever it was I was doing. I couldn’t also go home with this new craziness and show the voice about as though I really wasn’t alone.
Fine. What is married?
“Married?” I tried the word again. It was easier to say it the second time. But it didn’t stop the flood of memories, mostly happy, and the final devastating one that shattered everything else as it slashed through my brain, stealing what calm I’d managed to build. I cut if off before it could take a solid seat in my head, and brought forth other images to replace it.
What was that?
“You could see?”
You thought it, so yes.
“It was nothing. Married is two people in a legally binding relationship, recognized by society and the law as husband, generally male, and wife, generally female.”
Ah, he said. I had one of those.
“You had a husband?” I asked, trying to keep my mood from sinking back into the abyss of memories. Although for all I knew, his answer could have been yes.
Instead, his laughter spread through me once more, creating a new surface of peacefulness that separated me from the deep well of loss. It filled me with a light happiness and shook out the shadows that were lurking within, ready to reclaim me. I liked the sound of his laughter. I hoped to hear it again.
No, silly. I had a wife. Though we don’t label ourselves as such, and we aren’t bound. We just agree.
“Agree upon what?”
Agree that… we are together. Nothing so complicated.
“What happens when you disagree?” I didn’t want to ask that question, but it came out anyway, expecting there to always be a negative side to everything.
But he didn’t respond. The complete silence urged me to check for his presence yet again. Instead, I waited. And then came his voice filled with a sorrow I knew all too well.
We’re not supposed to do that. It’s supposed to be eternal.
“No one lives eternally,” I whispered. I also knew that all too well.
Hmmm, he chuckled.
“What happened to you? If you don’t mind me asking.” I shouldn’t have asked. It only made him sound sadder, and I wanted his laughter back.
She wanted to leave the city, explore the realm. I wanted to stay here and enjoy all the Central Unit offered.
“What does it offer?” I asked, trying to change the subject and his mood.
Whatever I want from it. Right now, I have a big, beautiful Rathean ocean in my backyard, and very soon I will have your night sky over my head.
“Hmm, sounds… wonderful.” I wanted to ask what a Rathean ocean was, but decided against exploring any further strangeness.
I’ve grown used to the peace.
“So, what made you come looking for me and my night sky?”
I needed a new perspective.
A new perspective. I was quite sure it was what I needed, too.
It was comforting though, to have a real conversation with someone again, if I could even call him a ‘someone’- I still wasn’t convinced that I wasn’t talking to anyone other than myself. But other than my therapist and several work-related editors, there wasn’t anyone I’d said more than two words to in almost a year.
“So, no children then?”
No children, he sighed.
I clamped my mouth shut, regretting the question the moment I spoke it. Not for his sake, but for mine. There were no children in my past either, but the topic of children always led to family and I wasn’t ready to explore my past, should he ask in return. There were some memories I would prefer to stay buried, and there were others that needed to be shut down whenever they tried to surface.
“I need to go. Home. Um, alone.”
I didn’t want to sound rude, but I had to cut this off before he returned the questions.
Why?
“It’s getting late.”
What about us? What if we can’t connect like this again? Ever.
“Well for all I know, you’re nothing more than a figment of my depression anyway.”
I’m you’re what? he laughed.
But that felt real. His laughter moving through me once more, as though it was the very tonic my body needed to feel human again.