The Chronicles of Qi

by J E Kerry

  Zhao sadly acknowledges the fact with a nod, trying to suppress the army of tears building up in his eyes.

  “You can relax. He’s with us now,” Sniper adds with a secretive wink, talking in riddles only known to Zhao.

  He leads the infected off while Sniper rejoins the debating circle in front of the holo-sphere.

  “Council,” Sniper makes a self-confident entry.

  “How bad?” Counselor Brooks wants to know, trying not to show any anxiety on his face.

  “Are they gonna make it?” Tinibu nervously asks, taking a step forward. He too has some family members among the infected. “I predict a 90% chance.”

  “Did you find my father?” Azarov worries and realizing how much time he’s wasted without getting to know his father better. The last meeting with him in the family’s underground chamber left a big impression on him and changed their relationship permanently. One could always see in Azarov’s eyes the guilt he feels for his behavior and disrespect over the years, blaming his father for the death of his mother. But all that is finally gone. The only thing he’s able to think about now is to see his father one last time and tell him how much he misses their time together and simply, that he loves him.

  “He’ll be fine,” Sniper assures him with a smile.

  Azarov exhales in relief as Sniper steps closer to report.

  “The remaining citizens suffer from a genetic mutation,” he continues. “Our scientists will use a higher dosage of the Riferator to find the right frequency and reverse the cell-mutation.”

  “Excellent, then let’s get to work!” Counselor Tsung closes the meeting. “We have a long day ahead of us.”

  The Lur-aan

  * NOVEMBER 27, 1943 *

  A crowd of people waits for the train to arrive. The platform is populated with dreary civilians and sporadically placed Gestapo, the official secret police of Nazi Germany, standing out in their black uniforms.

  Agni and her tall, good-looking husband Jan, in his 50s, walk across the platform. They try to keep their heads down, avoiding being recognized, when a little girl, who was once Agni’s patient, spots her doctor, and their cover is blown.

  “Mama, mama, there’s Doctor Pilchowa!” the little girl calls excited.

  All focus shifts toward the pair, alarming the Gestapo close-by who have a warrant against the married couple. The pair try their best to speed for the exit but are outnumbered by the German enemy and forced into handcuffs. Their fate has been sealed and it only takes some four hours until the deportation train has them transferred to a hub in Cieszyn, Poland.

  Hundreds of people are processed here for interrogation by the Wehrmacht, the unified armed forces of Nazi-Germany, before being deported to work- or concentration camps. Agni and Jan are among the deportees. Just right before they are about to step out of the train, Agni uses her last chance and holds Jan back. She embraces him with all her heart and quickly takes off her emerald-green stone pendant, putting it around his neck.

  “Give it to Anna,” she says comfortingly calm. “You will see her one last time before they take you. Anna must protect this stone with her life. Everything she needs, she’ll find in the attic.”

  Tears pearl down Jan’s face, only to be dried by Agni’s tender kiss, “Don’t cry my Love. Soon, I’ll be freed.”

  “What do you mean?” Jan asks, confused, but Agni gently caresses his face, mustering her good-looking husband to keep every spot and wrinkle of his countenance in storage, for the worst days yet to come.

  “You’ll understand two years from now, my Love,” Agni kisses him goodbye, a last time drying his tears, with her soft lips of love and hope that will soon depart into the elements of eternal dust.

  The growing crowd of deportees leaves the train. Agni follows them freely and sets foot on the train station’s platform.

  In a moment of courageous acceptance to finally welcome her fate with open arms, she looks back at Jan and smiles, before walking with her head held up high into the row of deported women, clinging in her thoughts to one of her visions about the future and trying to distract herself while being processed like meat through the gate.

  * THE YEAR 2035 A.D. *

  The cloaked Unit 12 arrives at the Crystal Hall, a large oval-shaped auditorium on the Lyr-an mothership.

  “Follow me!” Dha-loo-ma prompts and leads them through a holographic wall, straight into a crystalline hall-room where the American president stands next to Queen Ce-loo-me, her finger connected to his skin, right on the pineal gland.

  “What is she doing?” Wang wants to know.

  “Tapping into his memory and feeding him with new information,” the princess explains.

  “Information?” He wonders as Dha-loo-ma suddenly uncloaks and reveals herself.

  “We’re here, mother,” she walks closer to the center.

  Ce-loo-me is well aware of Unit 12 being present.

  “You can uncloak now,” she says, rather unimpressed, to the invisible guests.

  Wang goes first to reveal himself, with the others following. Everyone looks to him, surprised, wondering what’s happening.

  “Please, have a seat,” Ce-loo-me invites them to join her and the president.

  With apprehension and very curious about the queen’s next move, they each take their seats in the floating chair-plates as Ce-loo-me unplugs from the president’s pineal gland to begin with her confession.

  “You’ve been here before,” she commences.

  Showing respect, Wang answers for the unit with a nod of his head and listens calmly.

  “We don’t have much time for explanations, but I assure you, I’m on your side, whatever you think my intentions might be,” the queen illuminates her guests while she also sits down, in order to be strategically on eyesight with them, resuming now telepathically.

  It is usually very exhausting for any non-terrestrial being of higher frequency to use their vocal cords. One could compare it to a French being pushed to speak English. They are able to communicate but the sound, expression and message will never be the same as with one of their own. There is also a slight aversion swinging with it. In their opinion, language as Earthlings use it is not only low frequency, but it is absolutely unnecessary because the universal language has since eons been frequency and vibration, expressed as the language of emotions.

  Wondering faces are shared in the round, only to be heightened by the queen opening a portal with her left hand and gesturing the president to walk towards it until he vanishes and is gone.

  “The President is one of us,” Ce-loo-me then reveals. “He was placed on your planet to keep an eye on events and to ensure the right transition for your people.”

  At this point Wang isn’t surprised about anything anymore and keeps his composure steady.

  “You must know that there are other universes, bigger and higher evolved than ours. But with every evolution comes also the danger of power and darkness,” the queen continues and straightens in her seat. “Some universes are ruled by forces whose only goal it is to conquer a species, harvest souls and expand their territory to have full control over resources and the secrets of the ‘Eye’.”

  Wang remembers his spiritual journey with Dha-loo-ma and the story of her father. He looks conscious and all-knowingly over to the princess, having finally figured it all out.

  “We’re in a time-loop, aren’t we?” he asks. “That’s why you knew we were coming?” he shifts his focus back to Dha-loo-ma. “That’s why the Princess was already waiting for us to return from the mission.”

  The Dha-loo-ma looks embarrassed to the ground.

  “Yes,” Ce-loo-me admits as Wang remembers something else from his own lecture.

  “The unexpected beats the expected,” he says in Chinese, gets up slowly and looks scrutinizing at Ce-loo-me, finally realizing what his unit has just stepped into.

  “Your only chance is a direct change through an unexpected event that would break the ‘expected’ time-loop,” Wan
g challenges the queen, who gifts him with an impressed look on her usually so well-controlled face.

  “That’s why you need us,” he continues. “We’re the ‘unexpected’.”

  Ce-loo-me rises to her feet and closes the gap between them, “It’s the first time you actually figured it out yourself … and stayed.”

  He accepts her unspoken invitation and steps even closer, curiously observed by the unit watching on from their seats, “That doesn’t mean I trust you,” Wang states. “But I do trust your daughter.”

  He throws an intimate look at Dha-loo-ma who shyly returns the gesture.

  “Fair enough,” the queen accepts his standpoint and moves her full attention back to the unit.

  “Approximately 24 hours from now, there is going to be an attack by the reptilian ‘Lur-aan Command’, an enemy darker and stronger than anything you could possibly imagine,” she resumes and then addresses Wang directly, “We need your help fighting next to our warriors in space and throwing the Command’s created loop into turmoil. It will take time before their algorithm can adapt. By then, the Princess and I will already have dealt with their leader and put an end to it all.”

  The unit looks expecting back and forth to her and Wang, as if watching a tennis match between two players.

  “Do we have your support?” Ce-loo-me wishes to know while Wang needs a moment collecting his thoughts before he decides to challenge her once more and stares the queen directly in the eyes.

  Under any other circumstances this kind of behavior would lead to Wang’s execution by ripping his soul off its body and keeping it locked in a special Lyr-an vault where the soul would be hindered from reincarnating and working off its karmic debt. It’s similar to what Earthlings understand as purgatory before final judgement in hell.

  In Lyr-an culture, the eyes are the gateway to one’s soul. Therefore, starring an authority into the eyes is considered ‘rape’, similar to what is found in the Asian cultures of Earth where respect is shown by bowing and lowering the eyes every now and then when speaking to an official or meeting new business partners. Even though the Lyr-ans are a very open-minded and free-spirited monarchy with democratic elements, they have learned through their own experience of past dynasties that certain rules which will be broken deserve the worst thinkable punishments in order to keep peace and balance among their race because just as any other transitioning species, their souls aren’t karmic-free yet.

  In general, the Lyr-ans differentiate between three basic punishments, such as the mentioned ‘Ripping’, the ‘Altering’, where DNA strands will be cut to force cell-death, accompanied by lowering their abilities and vibrations. And last but not least ‘Falling’, where they will be exiled to very low frequency planets, branded as a ‘fallen’, and must endure a mortal reincarnation cycle, similar to the Sisyphus effect.

  But Wang knows exactly what he’s doing. This very moment he proves the queen that they are equal in regard to be the leaders of their people; her as the queen of the Lyr-ans and him as the leader of Unit 12 and the ambassador of Earth.

  Therefore, it is more than clear to Ce-loo-me that Wang will neither bow nor lower his head as a signal of equal strength and respect.

  She eventually finishes their staring marathon with a wise nod and proceeds with formalities.

  “Dha-loo-ma will now take you to the battleship,” she says and fades out of the room, leaving everything in her daughter’s hands.

  “Follow me,” the princess says and leads them quickly to the exit, trying her best to avoid any embarrassing questions that might follow to her little charade with the unit.

  ∞∞∞

  Downside in the Battleship, De-sha-an, ‘Master of the Elements’, a very small, spliced furry alien being, with a striking resemblance to a koala, sits on his hovering chair-plate, leading Unit 12 together with Princess Dha-loo-ma through a subtropical misty laurel forest, consisting of broad-leaf tree species with evergreen, glossy and elongated leaves.

  They stop in front of an ancient Lyr-an monument that reminds of Stonehenge and other ancient stone circles from Earth.

  “Welcome to Shadow Forest,” De-sha-an commences with the voice of an alien chipmunk. “You will now mate with your Mhaxi.”

  “Mate?” Philipe wonders, whispering to Wang.

  “He’s alien, you know,” Wang says, indicating that ‘mate’ must be the alien version of meeting someone as he suddenly catches sight of the probably cutest twelve furry creatures jumping out of their hiding spots from behind the trees and bushes.

  “De-sha-an, let me explain to them,” the princess says and does a step closer to the unit. “The Mhaxi are our animaloid Nas-ools, designed for espionage and combat.”

  The Mhaxi gather in front of Unit 12, studying them with their cute, beady eyes. They appear to be all the same species as De-sha-an but with slightly different body features.

  Jee-wa-seebi (Jee), a very cool and macho-like male Mhaxi, with the heart of a bear, takes interest in Philipe. His wings flutter faster than the eye can follow, creating a hummingbird-like effect. His big round eyes take up at least half the space on his face; their only real competition being the two short horns at the top of his forehead. These horns have beneath them, where his eyebrows should be, another set of much smaller horns poking forward. His fur is a combination of black and brown but for a fringe about his neck and a big ball of fluff atop his head, both of which are white. His blue, flickering wings lead down toward a large fluffy tail, as rich as that on his head, once again white.

  He flies up to Philipe and stops in front of his face.

  “Don’t be scared, it’s their way of connecting with you to mate,” Dha-loo-ma says smiling.

  Jee scans Philipe’s face, who looks slightly irritated, “Ça va?” (how are you doing?) Philipe engages in a first conversation, testing the waters.

  “Ça va.” (doing fine) Jee answers.

  “Quoi?” Philipe doesn’t trust his ears. “Tu parle français?” (shut up! you speak French?)

  “Bah oui,” (Yep) Jee says.

  Chu-lal (Chuchu), a nerdy but sweet female Mhaxi, feels attracted to Jodie who suddenly drops all her walls and becomes the image of a 5-year-old, seeing a pet for the first time, smiling all over the face as Chuchu stops in front of her for a scan.

  Chuchu’s wings move much like Jee’s, and if his ears could be described as bat-like, hers would be more along the lines and feline, as are the rest of her facial features. Her neat fur is ginger and brown, which go smoothly with the black leopard patterned spots that mottle her face. Deep blue eyes keep steady a pair of black pupils that sparkle with warmth and a friendly disposition.

  “Once a Mhaxi has mated with you, it will create a frequency controlled, AI-bond that transfers data back and forth between their cybernetically enhanced visual implants and your Visuals,” Dha-loo-ma elaborates further.

  Chuchu exchanges important data between them.

  Cha-kav (Cha), a shy but very wise Mhaxi, immediately focuses on Wang. The Mhaxi takes a few careful steps forward, peering up at Wang with a curious expression. He bears a close resemblance to Jee in appearance but with a single brown stripe running vertically across his face. As the smallest, his tail is the longest of the three, and his fur, that covers all of him, is white, though whiter at the neck and some of the tail. His wings, hidden at first, slide smoothly from his back, and with a light flap, he gravitates up to Wang, scanning his face and transferring data.

  “Just think of the Mhaxi as an additional upgrade to your suit and gadgets that you’ll need when going into battle,” the princess finishes with her introduction.

  ∞∞∞

  Two hours later at the Lyr-an hangar, dressed in their ultra-new Lyr-an pilot hardsuit armor, Unit 12 stand in first row alongside thousands of other space warriors, mixed of Lyr-an Synths, Hybrids and Nas-ools, the highly advanced cybernetic robots for combat. Several organic scarab-shaped craft already leave their platforms while Dha-loo-ma brings her speech
in front of the warriors to an end.

  What could Wang think of this moment? He doesn’t know. It feels like something out of a distant history; a new history in the making. Something with universal implications. Something he is now a part of and will forever be bound to.

  “In a couple of minutes, the ‘Dark Fleet’ will enter the Andromed-a galaxy. You know what to do... keep them busy!”

  The warriors bow respectfully before the princess and leave for their fighters as Dha-loo-ma crosses over to Wang, “Cha-kav, please allow us a moment”.

  The little co-pilot jumps off Wang’s shoulder and flies over to their craft as the princess does a step closer to Wang when the carved Eye of Qi symbol on their palms suddenly starts to glow again.

  “Qi is calling us,” Dha-loo-ma says with a gentle touch to Wang’s chest and looks deep into his eyes “I’m with you. Always”.

  The pair separate with a last longing look, holding on to that moment, before Wang walks off to his craft and materializes up and into the cockpit.

  Still clinging to their romantic moment, Dha-loo-ma turns slowly around, saddened at not being able to reveal herself to him as Mai-loo-na. With a look not entirely dissimilar to a doting wife watching her husband head off to war for any unknown number of years, she observes Wangs craft speed out into the vast expanses of space.

  Moments later, Wang and Cha are on their way to the battlefield, gazing at the intimidating void of the Andromed-a galaxy.

  It’s awkwardly quiet between them.

  “Are you scared?” Wang does a first step to break the ice between them.

  The fluffy, intelligent creature with an elderly, dignified voice, surprises him with its wisdom.

  “A scared mind is lost in the dark, waiting to be rescued,” Cha replies. “A brave mind fights the dark, rescuing itself.”

  “You’re like ‘Mini-Me’,” Wang realizes.