The Jovian Legacy

by Lilla Nicholas-Holt

  Jordan had a baby wolfhound she named Shiz, so cute and furry that everyone wanted to cuddle him. Shiz and Cecile’s pet Chihuahua sometimes play-fought and growled at each other, with Shiz trying hard to look tough but succeeding only to appear cutesy. Jordan shared her toys with Shiz and gave him a special soft toy that the pup took on as his own. Shiz took his soft toy with him everywhere he went. One day Jordan and Cecile were playing with their pets in their room. Jordan told Cecile that her pet Chihuahua looked like an inside-out rat. Jack entered their room, noticing Jordan’s pup trembling and making little whimpering noises and glaring at the Chihuahua. He looked across at Cecile’s pet, which had taken the soft toy off Shiz and was humping it in the corner. Before the girls noticed their respective pets’ behaviour, Jack quickly swept the Chihuahua up in his hands and passed the toy back to Shiz, the pup staring at it like it had betrayed him.

  Sundays were special. The entire family: Ben and Nancy Dunlop, Sobek, Jack and Megan and their girls attended the Thebes Temple of Worship; each time a full house, and the singing heard for miles. A massive choir accompanied the service, the congregation drowned out by their singing that sounded like a thousand angels. It was an incredible sound. Even the girls stood on their chairs singing their little lungs out, clapping and smiling, and rocking from side to side.

  “Isn’t it great how things have transpired,” Ben said to his wife in bed that night.

  “Hmm, yes,” she responded, “never in a million years did I expect this.”

  Chapter 18

  Jack’s job became very busy towards the end of March. He was required to be on call for a new project that the Thebes Federation of Science had begun, taking up a lot of his time. They had made a new contact with Earth, a gentleman who lived in Cairo who had some unnerving news about occurrences in his neighbouring countries. War had broken out between the Western world and Iraq, and whose president had gone into hiding, he being the primary target. The gentleman’s name was Jamahn, who was very informative. It didn’t appear to phase him that he’d been contacted by another planet, and seemed genuinely happy to keep it to himself. Perhaps, thought Jack, that he imagined he would be ridiculed if he told his mates that he’d been contacted by aliens, as Jack had. Or maybe he simply didn’t believe them. Jamahn was an intriguing man though. Jack pictured him as having very dark features with a brooding look.

  As they continued their association with Jamahn, it became apparent from his script that something was very wrong. A lot of children were dying as a result of being caught up in an adult’s way of sorting things out. Jack knew it was unfair, but felt helpless as to what he could do.

  The next day, when Jack and Megan had finished their lunch, they looked out the kitchen window to see all the girls sitting cross-legged on the grass chatting amongst themselves. Cecile beckoned them to join them and told them to sit in the middle.

  “They’re probably playing a trick on us,” Jack sniggered, as they sat down cross-legged as well.

  “Okay, so what’s the deal?” he asked, humouring them.

  Cecile said, “There’s something I have to show you.”

  It’s just like Cecile to take centre stage, he thought, amused.

  “There’s a man that you have to go and see. He said his name was Siptah.”

  Jack and Megan looked at each other in astonishment. “Cecile, how do you know this man? Where did he come from?” Jack asked, feeling anxiety creep in but trying not to show it.

  Cecile picked up something that she had beside her and handed it to him. It was a box. A Lucre Box. It was the same shape as Jack’s, which, when put together with Megan’s, formed an Egyptian symbol.

  “Where did you get that from, Pumpkin?” questioned Megan, grasping Jack’s hand.

  “The man gave it to us and said we had to give it to you. He said you have to go see him tonight,” Cecile repeated matter-of-factly, looking innocently up at her adopted brother.

  “Did he say where?” Jack asked, trying to contain his voice.

  “There’s a map in the box. He says he’s related,” she answered.

  That evening as they drove along, Megan gave directions while looking at the map. Neither of them said a great deal. As they rounded a bend they saw a magnificent Egyptian building with a lit-up pathway leading to what must have been their host’s residence, though it resembled a grand entrance to a temple, with arched lines and double doors. They didn’t need to knock, as the doors swung open as they approached.

  A man who looked as old as Noah greeted them. He led them across a courtyard encircled by pillars, leading them over large wide stone slabs with green trimmed foliage between, framing them. The courtyard looked very neat and manicured. ‘Noah’ led them through another set of double doors where he asked them to wait, and quietly slipped out, shutting the doors behind him, leaving Megan and Jack alone. They surveyed the expansive room. Exquisite Egyptian art decorated the walls, encrusted with intricate gold patterns and reaching the ceiling.

  Another man appeared, looking almost as old as the first, but with imposing dark Egyptian features, precisely as Jack had pictured Jamahn.

  He greeted Jack and Megan with both hands extended, and his solemn face splitting into a welcome grin, revealing perfect white teeth.

  “I am very pleased you came. “I am Siptah, descendant of the Pharaoh Siptah, and your distant cousin,” he spoke with a heavy accent.

  The accent exactly the same as Tweedledum and Tweedledee’s.

  “Oh yes, a cousin,” Jack said in a somewhat disrespectful manner that surprised Megan. “Must be fairly distant though, I think.”

  “It does not matter,” Siptah replied, “I am of the same bloodline as you and your father.”

  “Oh, Okay, well, I’m Jack,” he replied, finally remembering his manners.

  Siptah gestured to someone in the background, and a platter of delectable goodies was brought in and placed on the gold side-table. “Please, make yourselves comfortable. Would you care for a glass of Karkaday?” he asked, handing Jack and Megan a glass each as he asked, not giving them any choice.

  Megan sipped at her unknown clear, bright red drink, and the taste was sensational.

  “Thanks, but we are wondering why we’ve been asked to come here,” Jack said rather clumsily.

  Siptah cleared his throat. “You have a Lucre Box that I have already given you. Here is the other box which forms the other half. These two boxes, when placed together, will form a message that you may or may not be able to read. It is in Egyptian,” he added.

  “I can,” Megan enthused.

  “Yes, and we’ve been down this track before,” Jack cut in, glancing sharply at his girlfriend.

  “When you connect the boxes you will know what your destination will be,” Siptah said, ignoring his statement.

  “Destination?” Megan and Jack questioned together.

  “You must go now,” Siptah said, and then retreated into another room, leaving Megan and Jack looking after him.

  “No wait!” Jack called after him, but he had vanished.

  “Well, that was a quick visit,” Megan said on their way home. The Lucre Box was sitting on the back seat.

  “Destination, I’ll be damned. As if we’re going to up and leave now,” Jack said, annoyed.

  “There’s no way,” she agreed.

  “The last time I used those was to get into that compound to rescue you, and once I got there the boxes turned to ice and shattered into tiny pieces. That makes them a one-way ticket to who knows where. It’s best if we leave them alone.”

  “For sure,” Megan agreed again.

  At the Thebes Federation of Science, Jack continued his contact with Jamahn, who kept him informed on what was happening.

  “There is so much political unrest here, the people of Iraq do not know from one day to the next whether or not they will survive. Homes are uninhabitable and devastation is everywhere,” Jamahn typed.

  Jack’s colleagues wanted to do something abou
t it.

  “What can we do?” asked Jack, “You can’t organise every good law-abiding person living on Earth to hop on a boat or plane to travel across the Bermuda Triangle and be sucked up through the green veil and live happily ever after on Jovian, can you?”

  “No,” his colleague agreed with a lilt in his voice, “but you can go back there, and through our help you will be able to achieve world peace.”

  “Hah! Little ole me achieve world peace? Not possible!” Jack retorted, glaring at them as if they were nuts.

  “We will help you,” his colleague repeated, unsmiling.

  Jack went home that evening and told his folks over dinner that the Thebes Federation of Science wanted him to go back to Earth and achieve world peace.

  “Oh, I thought only contestants for the Miss World Pageant do that,” Megan snickered.

  “Yeah, well they can go and achieve their own world peace, I ain’t goin’ nowhere. I came here to get away from all of that,” he stated adamantly.

  The Thebes Federation of Science started to put pressure on Jack about returning to Earth. They organised a meeting.

  The meeting was attended, not only by Jack’s colleagues, but by two of the dignitaries that he’d initially met when he and Megan first arrived on Jovian: Premier Tiberius and Marquis Ahmose.

  “There’s one thing,” Jack asked curiously and a little sarcastically, “How am I supposed to return to Earth?”

  “There is a way. It involves the use of a set of ancient Egyptian Lucre Boxes. However, they are virtually unobtainable, as only descendants of the Pharaohs are privileged to possess them,” his colleague stated matter-of-factly.

  Everything suddenly fell into place. Siptah, the Lucre boxes, and now this. Siptah must have known.

  Jack didn’t divulge the fact that he already had the boxes in his possession. He didn’t intend to use them anyway. Why on Earth would I want to go back to a place that is riddled with greed and crime when I have all this? he thought. And when all my family is here.

  He told Megan how their meeting had gone later on that evening. “You know, they expect me to give up my family and my new life when I’ve practically just got here. I do feel for you though, Megs, that you have left your parents behind. How have you been feeling about that lately?” he asked compassionately.

  “Well, they’re always in the back of my mind,” she replied, lowering her eyes. “They won’t have gotten over the hurt of me abandoning them. They would’ve probably gone through hell, probably would’ve organised a police search.”

  Jack noticed her tears and realised how much hurt she carried. He suddenly felt very selfish. He had his family, but she didn’t.

  Megan composed herself and, surprisingly, declared, “Maybe you should do as they ask.”

  Jack looked at her in disbelief. “You’ve done an about turn. Do you want me to go back?”

  Megan blew her nose. “Well, these people want to help our people, not destroy them. What…if we both went back? They said we could return here when we wish, by using the boxes for travel. And I could visit my folks.”

  Jack was shocked. “What about the girls?”

  “Sobek and your parents can look after them. And they’ve got the house staff,” she replied, looking at him questioningly.

  “Wouldn’t you miss them?” he asked, still finding it hard to believe what he was hearing.

  “Of course I would,” Megan replied, looking away.

  “We might be gone for a year or so.”

  “I know,” she answered, about to become tearful again.

  Poor Megs. Torn between her parents and her little sisters. Jack wrapped his arms around his girlfriend and hugged her tightly.

  He organised another meeting with his colleagues, Premier Tiberius and Marquis Ahmose.

  Chapter 19

  They sat across from each other, separated by a huge oval, solid gold table.

  “So, if I go back to Earth how am I supposed to change the way everyone behaves?” Jack enquired, cynical.

  “Via consumption,” Premier Tiberius stated. “It is anticipated over time. If we adapted our food production to be compatible with Earth’s produce of all fruit and vegetables, the citizens of all Earth’s countries will benefit the advancement of taste and goodness as alike our fellow citizens. It is through our food that we have become such content people, with no desire for greed nor power, with the exception, of course, of an unfortunate few with whom you have already come into contact.”

  “Well, I’ve had some foods here that sure have a calming effect,” Jack admitted.

  Premier Tiberius continued, “Jovian has been genetically modifying food for decades and have mastered the technique to the highest degree. You will act as our representative, and through you we will introduce our genetically initiated produce of all varieties of the vegetable and fruit family, which would in turn be consumed by all animals and humans. We introduce an ingredient which stimulates brain cells and alters the formation of neurons so that aggressive characteristics of all humans and animals are all but dissolved, and simultaneously positive characteristics are formed. It also enhances the senses, and everybody benefits. Our people are the proof of such engineering. On Jovian the produce itself is bigger, brighter, and the taste incredibly better as you have discovered.”

  “So that’s your secret! The food here is unreal!” Jack exclaimed.

  One of Jack’s colleagues spoke. “Over time, the food on Earth will be unreal, as you put it. However, people there don’t like change, do they? They will fear that men will all start growing donkey tails and the women three breasts. This will never happen, but it will be your job to convince them to make genetically modified food acceptable and legal in all countries.”

  “Whew! That’s a tall order. How long will all this take?” Jack queried, blowing through his lips.

  “Five to ten years,” replied his colleague matter-of-factly.

  Colour drained from his face, feeling like he’d just been handed a prison sentence.

  “What if I don’t want to do it?” he questioned, suddenly realising what it would mean. “I don’t want to leave my family for that long.”

  “Yes, granted, you will be making a huge sacrifice. But you will be rewarded for your efforts,” stated Marquis Ahmose. “We have commenced a trust fund for your young charges so that they may each receive forty million Egyptian pounds by the time they reach the age of sixteen years. And of course you will already have returned at that stage.”

  “Forty million Egyptian pounds! That’s about ten million each in New Zealand dollars. You drive a hard bargain,” Jack protested.

  “Pardon me?” questioned Marquis Ahmose, who had never heard of such colloquialism.

  “It’s just a figure of speech. Can I have some time to think about it?”

  “By all means, Mr Dunlop. Thank you. We will talk again,” Premier Tiberius answered, putting out his hand.

  Jack thought sadly about the girls.

  Left alone in his research room Jack was deep in thought, staying until it grew dark, the Babylonian time-piece on the wall illuminating the time. He switched his computer on and pondered for a few minutes. He wanted to escape for a time before he made his decision. He applied the device to the base of his neck and typed in the date, ‘20th February 1949’, thirty-three years before he was born. He was feeling reckless and very much doubted it would work. He typed in six hours and pressed the ‘enter’ key.

  The temperature around him plummeted, causing Jack to shiver. He is in an old farmhouse at the crack of dawn. He hears a clunking noise coming from another room. Jack slips out of his bed, throwing on a coat that is hanging on a brass hook beside his bed, and quietly tiptoes past a baby in a cot, towards the clunking noise. He enters a kitchen where he sees a young girl of around ten lighting a fire in an oven with a kettle sitting atop. After a while the kettle starts to boil, and the young girl, with a thick cloth in hand, drags it off the stove and pours hot water into a cast-iron po
t. She then hoists the pot onto the oven and begins to stir. Jack takes in the familiar, comforting smell of porridge. She carries on stirring for quite a while, then focusses on setting the table for breakfast. The girl doesn’t look up at Jack, and he wonders why, though knows that she would have a terrible shock to see a stranger in her kitchen.

  The sun’s rays slice through the opening in the curtains and onto the girl, her blonde hair catching the light. She is pretty and petite with a small round face and strong nose of an Anglo Saxon. Jack spots a clock on the mantelpiece above the fire when it begins to chime, and counts up to six chimes before it stops. Before long he hears the rest of the household shuffle out of their bedrooms and make their way to the kitchen. A short woman with an especially round face totters in and begins to slice bread, while a bleary eyed boy, younger than the girl, makes a beeline for a cupboard and takes out some bowls. He places them on the table while the girl pours the porridge. Eight bowls frame the table and in a short time there are four boys, all younger than their sister, seated at the table. The children’s mother places a jug of milk on the table that she stirs to mix in the cream that has settled on the top. The matching set of crockery depicts a blue willow pattern. Jack watches as five bleary-eyed children spoon brown sugar in their bowls, eating in silence. The silence is broken only when a tall, lanky man strolls in with a baby around a year old. The mother instructs her husband to put Benjamin in his high chair and put a bib around his neck.

  No-one at all notices Jack standing in the corner observing them. He cannot fathom it. He dares to speak, and introduces himself, but no-one looks up. It is as if he is invisible and they are all deaf. He makes his way back up the hallway and into one of the bedrooms. It smells musty so he opens a sash window. A freestanding wardrobe with a lowboy attached to it is set against the wall, an oval mirror with a rainbow rim on its door. Jack purposely stands in front of it. No wonder they don’t see him; he can’t see himself either, only what is positioned behind him.