by JB Penrose
“Re-generation?” Rachel laughed. “You’ll get used to it.”
“The Aurora is quite a ship,” Gail reflected in wonder at the adventure that was about to begin.
“This is only the cargo bay. We’ll look around while they’re making the repairs. Let’s start in my quarters,” Dalyn said. “We should replicate something more comfortable for ourselves to wear.”
Each of them looked down at the blood on their clothing. For Gail, the miraculous healing was the start of an incredible life. For Dalyn, it was a confirmation that her daughter had the powers necessary to take care of herself. Only Rachel wondered of the future she had accepted.
New Year’s Morning
2045 AD
It was close to dawn when they gathered again. Her parents and Lucas had been on the road for hours, a much happier goodbye than the one they were facing now.
The ship’s exterior lights had been programmed for colors and reflected against the Aurora’s silvery surface, contradicting the sober atmosphere. Everyone mingled with their final hugs and promises.
“Donnally,” John wrapped his arm around the chief’s shoulders. “It was great to have your help with these repairs.” He turned around, “and yours, too, Gail. I’m glad I’ll have the time to make that right.”
Gail blushed at everyone’s laughter, but having Donnally’s arm around her waist was worth enduring the embarrassment. Her heart beat strongly with anticipation. She managed a nod, not trusting her voice.
“You don’t need to thank me for something I was committed to completing,” Donnally admitted. “I should be thanking you.”
The group fell into an awkward silence. The stance shifted uncomfortably and everyone waited for someone else to make the first move.
“Are you sure you won't come with us?” Andrew finally asked.
“I'm staying,” Rachel assured him.
“And I'm staying with her,” Peter confirmed. “Smooth sailing home.”
Andrew gave his brother a last impulsive hug. “No matter what worlds we’re in, we will always be brothers.” With a snap of his fingers he produced a small, framed picture of himself for Peter. They hugged another long moment, and over Peter’s shoulder Andrew winked at her. She knew it was difficult when they separated.
As happy as Rachel was that Peter would be staying on Earth with her, she understood what it meant to leave his friends and family behind.
“It’s time to go,” Rachel told the anxious crew. “Really, this it is! You have to go aboard before you can launch.”
“Thanks, for everything.” Gail gave her a timid hug and returned quickly to Donnally’s side.
John pulled several envelopes from his pocket. “Here’s a backup for the conference computers, and these disks have some important passwords, too.” He gave them to Peter. “Just to make it easier for you.”
“It doesn’t get easier because we keep doing this!” Rachel hugged them all again. “But this time you have to go!”
Slowly, the crew gathered under the ship’s frame.
“Watch your back where Morrow is concerned. He said he wasn’t working alone and you should believe it.” John gave a final wave.
“I’ll be ready, and watching,” Peter promised.
“We will meet again,” Andrew promised.
“It’s part of the Plan,” Rachel confirmed with a slight laugh and clapped her hands together. “Now go on, all of you. Disappear!”
With her gesture the crew instantly disappeared, absent of the blue mist of regeneration. Rachel and Peter stood alone in the dark dawn of the deep crevice.
“Did you do that?” Peter asked.
“I’m not sure,” she regarded at her hands, “but I think so.”
The Aurora’s systems started to hum; the starting sequence had begun. Peter pulled on Rachel’s arm. “Come on, let’s watch it from above. We can pick up our things from the cave after they’ve launched.”
The climb winded her but the view was worth it. The cool breeze of a morning sunrise rewarded her exercise and she allowed herself a moment of gratitude. Rachel wasn’t just watching the dawn of a new day, the Aurora’s launch was the marked the beginning of a new life for her.
“Are we safe just standing here?” she asked.
“This is the perfect view.” He pulled her toward the edge and knelt to peer over the side. The sun wasn’t high enough to burn the shadows from the canyon, but she heard the faint hum of the Aurora’s engines. “There’s no danger,” he said. “The Aurora extends a shield around the energy grav-pipe.”
“Grav-pipe?”
“You’ll see.”
The hum grew into a vibration and the solid rock beneath her feet quivered. Her heart raced with the anticipation of watching the first galactic spaceship launch for home. Their home, anyway.
“Look!” Peter pointed downward into the cavity. “Here she comes!”
The sleek metallic surface reflected patches of the red rock canyon like a fast-forward film. There were no signs of the missile damage that forced their emergency landing.
As the ship rose, the vibration of the stone grew with intensity. When the Aurora reached the height of their ledge she waved, hoping they could see her.
“Come back soon,” she whispered.
It was difficult watching them leave, but the Aurora’s crew had their own destiny, although she couldn’t guess their fate any more than knowing her own. Peter gave her an extra hug; Rachel already depended on him.
The Aurora was overhead now; she saw what Peter called the grav-pipe. A circular tunnel extended beneath the ship, invisible but for the stones, sand, and debris thrashing furiously within. The vibration beneath her feet lessened as the distance from ground to ship lengthened. The umbilical cord pulled at her heart as the ship faded into the sky, finally lost in the clouds. The invisible tether broke; a small shower of stones and twigs fell to the ground in confirmation.
They stood in silence while the sun took command of the morning sky. The DayStar hung directly over them, shining as it had since its appearance, the object of the Aurora’s launch and the mystery of Rachel’s life.
She fought back her tears, glad for the chance to collect her thoughts. This is the way it’s supposed to happen.
Repeating it a thousand times never made it easier to say goodbye.
THE END
BEFORE IT STARTED. . .
Trails of footprints followed the three wanderers across miles of sandy hills. They were pushed toward Bethlehem by the strange storm building behind them, and led by a single shining star in the black sky.
Blue lightening flashed with broad strokes from the clouds to the ground in thundering shudders, yet not a breath of wind stirred through the desert valley. The stillness only hastened their travel.
Always, the star led them on; nearer to the horizon it fell until the white ball of light disappeared behind the ridge. The bright flash blinded them in the dark night and the explosion shook their beast to its knees. Their loose robes dragged the sand like anchors as they hastened their pace to the fallen star. What they found was not what they expected.
The impact half-buried the star, and flames licked the outer edges of the smooth, reflective surface. The interior smoked heavily and choked the air of oxygen. It blinded them from seeing inside. As they walked the perimeter they argued among themselves: Was this even a star at all?
Remember ties from Inner Worlds
Remember vows of crystal words
Truth revealed from skies above
Lost is found whose Gift is Love.
One who is a child of Light
Spokesmon of Eternal Life
Truth revealed from skies above
Lost is found whose Gift is Love.
Kerroon’s head hurt, especially when he coughed from the smoke he’d inhaled. His sides were sorely bruised from being tightly strapped and braced for the crash. He knew the pain was a confirmation he had survived, although at the moment he couldn’t tell if his e
yes were open or shut. His hands fumbled with the unfamiliar locks of the manual restraints at his shoulders, but he was thankful for the antiquated safety system.
Thick, gray smoke made it impossible to see the other crewmembers but he could hear the coughs and groans, a validation of their survival as well.
A circuit popped at his console and someone, close, swore in a language Kerroon didn’t understand. The stranger called out; another answered from inside the cabin, but nothing made sense. Dizziness first, then nausea swept over him. His eyelids were still too heavy to open, but he felt the stranger’s hands groping at his waist. The last thing he remembered was the throbbing pain he felt when the straps were finally cut.
Kerroon woke to an endless black sky and the explosion of a deep thunderbolt that sent his head and stomach reeling. The sandy terrain pasted itself to his mouth; too much trouble to spit out and impossible to swallow. Reider was close beside him, his head resting on drawn up knees.
“Zallo’s bane!”
With a grueling twist Kerroon turned to see what Reider watched; his heart skipped a beat.
The Orygin, a light-drive stellar explorer, cracked like a turgolian egg when it crashed. Deeply submerged in the terra, heavy smoke sifted through the hull. He could still hear circuits popping from the fire inside.
Kerroon gently propped himself on his elbows and looked about. They had been carried a safe distance from the burning spaceship. In the firelight, Kerroon saw his crewmates begin to move around. His brother waved.
Kerroon fell back into the soft sand, relieved. “Where are we?” His own whispered voice was deafening to him.
“I’m not sure, but we’re lucky it’s habitable.” Reider coaxed his legs to support him and stood up.
Kerroon stretched painfully and wondered again about their luck. “We should have been able to shield our systems from that magnetic storm.”
“I couldn’t navigate from the instant it started,” Reider complained. “It’s as though something just set us here.”
“Permanently, it appears."
"I guess I should talk to them.” Reider nodded toward the three men nervously pacing around the burning ship.
Kerroon could sense their fear, and the argument between them confirmed it. “I'll do it. I've always been better at first contact.”
Reider offered a hand up and Kerroon brushed the sand from his eco-suit, keenly feeling the bruises on his body and the raw skin on his palms.
Their three hosts were clothed with layers of loose fabric tied at the waist with colored sashes. Long hair and facial hair hid their weathered brown skin and dark eyes, but Kerroon felt reassured by the fact they appeared to be mon like themselves.
The four-legged beast was skittish from the storm, or the fire, and its baggage was unbalanced. The man with a brown sash kept his hand on the animal and its pack, Blue and Red Sash argued between them. Kerroon guessed it was about the crew and decided to approach the more friendly blue-sashed man. This isn’t exactly how it's covered in the handbook, he thought. The Orygin’s crew never really did things by procedure.
The Orygin was Reider’s ship, with the first four crew being Reider and Kerroon, both aboard with their younger brothers, Zebede and Pierzon. Pooling all of their possessions and using any resource available, they traded their way through the Bara System. The outer mining colonies were always in need of supplies.
Dalyn was the first addition to the crew, buying her way into the venture with a tasht; a crystal element mined only on the Plexis moons of Biatra-IV. Its unique structure allowed the tasht to channel energy for a stellar light-drive engine. She never revealed how she came into possession of the powerful crystal, but her prize upgraded the Orygin from solar to stellar class and expanded their expeditions to adventures outside the Bara System.
In time, Iscar joined the crew increasing its total to six that operated as family aboard the Orygin, each variously skilled and talented, sharing treasure and troubles alike. Like the trouble they were in now. He didn’t know how they got here or where here was, but he knew from the condition of their ship they wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon.
There was a scuffle behind him and Reider disappeared into the burning ship. “The tasht! If we don’t save that, we’ll never get home.”
The hosts’ warnings blended with those of the crew, but no one followed him inside. The smoke, thick from insulation burning between the hull and inner lining, was still toxic. Kerroon held his breath, timing silently how long his friend might be able to work inside. Just as he finally had to breathe, Reider appeared at the doorway juggling the hot tasht in his hands. Kerroon took the crystal in a piece of cloth from the blue-sash man and made it into a sling for carrying.
Their guides were timid, and fell to their knees to chant whenever lightening broke up the ongoing argument between them. Still, they helped Kerroon as though prompted by some unseen source in the sky overhead.
Another argument broke out between the three men, but Blue-Sash untied packs until he found garments similar to their own. He passed them out among the crew and instructed by example to slip it over their heads. The rough weave hung short on Reider’s tall frame and dragged the ground at Dalyn’s ankles, but no one commented on the technology against their own eco-suit.
“I think they want us to go with them.” Kerroon could barely make out the lights in the distance. “It must be some kind of settlement.”
“We’ll have to get help from somewhere.” Pierzon wrapped his arm around his brother’s shoulder and leaned heavily for the support of his injured ankle. Kerroon managed a smile to the blue-sashed man and led the weary group of survivors across the sandy terrain.
The ominous sky pushed them toward a distant horizon that never seemed to come closer. Tired and hungry, they stumbled in the sand toward the far away lights. Kerroon forced his legs to take each step, sometimes caught by his brother, sometimes catching Pierzon. No one had the energy to talk, or answers to the questions he knew each of them was thinking. A bold clap of thunder snapped him back to reality. Still, he thought, we should have been able to pull away from that storm.
Any hopes for escaping this planet were shattered when they finally arrived at the settlement. Primitive fire torches provided light, and transportation was limited to foot, or carts on wheels. The people they passed stared at them from behind veiled eyes, retracting the offer of their wares as the strange group of survivors stumbled past their booths in the square.
Time and time again, their guides knocked on doors along the alley. Kerroon didn’t understand what they asked, but he could see they were refused after one look at their assembly. It was the same each time until Reider stepped up to the last door and rapped again. The man opened it quickly, but bit back the remark he would have made when he faced Reider, who firmly rested his hand at the doorway and leaned. The innkeeper nervously motioned to a structure behind them, and then quickly shut the door when Reider turned to see the rickety building.
The stable door blew open with a gusty chill, but the warmth and calm was a welcome refuge for the weary group. They bolted the door against the blustery wind and the room quieted from the world outside.
“We knew not what we should do.” The animal bayed softly and nudged Dalyn’s hand gently with its warm nose.
“What?” Kerroon noticed the faint glow in the corner, and the animals gathered in hushed conversations. Instinctively, Dalyn pushed past them and found a man who attended a laboring woman lying in a bed of straw.
“Fill the manger with fresh straw and stand aside,” she told the anxious animals. Turning to their three hosts, she asked, “Can you find some hot water?”
The animals’ conversations had already thrown their guides into another heavy discussion, but when they understood Dalyn’s request as well, the last of their doubts erased. Bowing to her repeatedly, they backed out the door to search for hot water.
“The Lord sayeth help was at hand,” the man mumbled gratefully.
; Dalyn pointed him in the direction of her other crewmates and gave a gentle push. “Don’t worry,” she told him. “I’ve done this before.” She pulled off her robe, unconcerned to reveal the silvery eco-suit she wore, and draped the birth area. “Take a hundred quick breaths and wait for the next contraction,” she reassured the panting woman. “It’s all right. I’m here to help.”
It was a quick birth and within minutes Dalyn was swabbing the infant with the water their guides had provided. The room was hushed around them, and with an exultant and slightly envious look she took a moment to cradle the beautiful baby boy before handing him to his mother.
It was a momentous transfer.
Instantly, as the infant rested in his mother’s arms, a blue mist began to form around him. A calm darkness settled over the room and Kerroon watched, mesmerized, as the mist concentrated into the shape of a man that stood before them - not on the ground, but slightly above.
The Man-Spirit was beautifully robed in blue and gold splendor; a circle of white light around his forehead illuminated a face of peace, with eyes that looked deep into the souls of each survivor.
“I am Jesus, Son of God,” the Man-Spirit told them. “The time has come and ye are the Chosen Ones. With the Word of my Father and the faith of your hearts, you will bring into this world God’s compromise for the Awakening.”
Kerroon was never sure if he heard the words in his mind or his ears, but he had, without questioning it, surrendered himself to the Plan the Man-Spirit placed in his thoughts. He was flooded with new feelings of purpose, of security and understanding.