The Lover's Parable Through A Seven World Journey

by Millerson, Brady

  Creaking on its partially rusted hinges, the door swung open under John’s command, and he proceeded to enter first into the brightly lit compartment. A small ladder was mounted between the upward facing chairs, allowing for easier access to the oddly arranged seats. Organized in such a way so as to allow for manual control of the vessel, the chairs were situated before a down-powered, computerized control station: an array of switches, lights, screens and other mechanisms. The “ceiling” was merely the apex of the ship, composed of a single, cone-shaped, window unit that spanned the diameter of the cockpit, allowing a view to the multitudes of twinkling stars shining down from the heavens outside. There were several terminals mounted on the side of the control station, similar to the ones that the workers were accessing at the ruins, and the technicians were channeling on the exterior of the hulls.

  “To think, that all this time this is what was buried in the hillside back home,” Sofia commented.

  Removing the miniature computer from his pocket John knelt beside the terminals, taking a closer look at his handheld’s dangling cable.

  “If everything we were looking for is stored in this little machine, I’m going to feel pretty foolish bringing us all the way over here for nothing,” he said, lining up the connectors.

  The monitor in his hand lit up blue and bright as the cable made contact with its compatible slot. The control system began to power on, and John’s monitor booted up to a menu screen with six nonsensically labeled icons decorating the interface.

  “What are all those?” Sofia asked, her face lit up as blue as her eyes.

  “I’m not sure,” he said.

  Labeled with the word RawMat, the first icon on the screen resembled a pickaxe with a tall plant crossing over its handle, forming the shape of an X.

  “What do you think? Should I press it?” John asked.

  “I don’t have the faintest clue what that’s referring to. Try it, I guess,” she said, motioning to him to be more aware of the urgency of their situation.

  Tapping his finger upon the image, the screen began to fill with streams of data, scrolling through a series of numbers with no discernable relation to anything that he was aware of.

  “What is all that?” Sofia asked.

  “It’s just nonsense to me,” John answered.

  Swiping his fingers across the Back button, he was brought to the main screen once again.

  “Try the one that says RePla,” Sofia requested, pointing to an image where two rifles crossed like Xs at the barrels.

  As he tapped his finger upon the icon, the same result appeared on the screen: scrolling numbers without discernable value. Returning to the main screen once again, he realized that there were two paging arrows located at the bottom corner.

  “I wonder what these are for,” he said, depressing the right facing icon. As the former icons disappeared, a single image appeared in their places. It was a flame, with the word ManLa written below it.

  “It’s probably the same thing,” Sofia said, looking back towards the door. “We really should be going now, don’t you think?”

  Sofia was right. As much as he wanted to stay, John understood the immediacy of the moment. His hand grasped at the cable. He was ready to yank it out of the terminal. His hopes of finding just one piece of useful information hidden somewhere in the vessel’s computer system was about to come to an end. With that agonizing thought bearing down upon him, the sixth sense that he was about to miss something important, John released the connector, and depressed the icon.

  Sofia had already walked to the entrance of the control room. Looking back, she could see by the flashing screen that John had found something of interest.

  “What do you see?” she asked.

  Lifting his eyes to her, he said, “I tapped the ManLa button. Now it just keeps flashing the words, Stand-By.”

  With a single step in his direction, Sofia paused as the lights of their cabin suddenly died off. The pilot’s screen above John began to blink for a brief moment, until it solidified into a single blue screen.

  “John. What’s happening?” Sofia asked, nervously looking around the cabin.

  John was unaware of the power being supplied to the airship’s main system, as he was too involved with the changes taking place on his own screen.

  “It says, Access Override: Permission Granted. I think we’ve got something here, girl.”

  His face was aglow with a joyful glee as Sofia walked up to him. But a deep rumble from below, and the disengaging sounds of the scaffolding unhinging from the hull, immediately brought him to his feet.

  “Oh, no,” Sofia stammered. “John?”

  “I know. I hear it! We need to get out of here. Let’s go,” John yelled, tearing the cable from the terminal and pulling her towards the door.

  A mechanical, female voice bursting out from the cockpit speakers brought them to a halt as the rumbling under their feet began to escalate.

  “Initiating manual launch in t-minus twenty seconds.”

  “What did she say?” John shouted above the roar of the engines, looking about, confused and panicked, “Did she say, “Manual Launch”?”

  “That must’ve been what ManLa was. Oh, no. I can’t believe this is happening,” Sofia cried.

  “This can’t be real. This just cannot be real,” John repeated to himself.

  “T-minus ten seconds and counting,” the feminine voice announced, monotone and cold.

  “We need to strap in,” he yelled, pulling her back towards the pilot’s chairs, “We’re about to take off.”

  Climbing the short ladder, they rolled onto their backs and into the seats, crossing the restraining belts over their chests and across their laps. Thousands of pinpoint stars stared back at them through the window from the blackness of space. The pilot’s control panel was awash with needles moving across gauges and blinking lights. By the sound of it, the engines were reaching their maximum intensity, but the interior of the cabin was apparently insulated well enough to dampen the noise to a tolerable level.

  John could see Sofia staring at him from the corner of his eye. As he turned his head towards her he said, “I can’t believe I got us into this.”

  “It’s okay,” she said with a half smile. “I just hope you don’t have to drive it, too.”

  And with those final words, the thrust lifting the transporter into the sky pinned them to the backs of their chairs. Sofia’s high-pitched moans were all that she could express under the heaviness of the force being exerted upon her.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The spherical bulbs of vomit that hovered a meter above Sofia’s head slowly made their way to the nearest wall, attaching themselves to its surface. She and John had released their safety harnesses several hours ago. Beginning their egress from the pilot’s chairs, they floated down to the lower cabin where they found a little respite beside the bolted-down table that they used as their place of security.

  Abandoning the pilots cabin had been their chief priority ever since the transporter had left the outer atmosphere of their home planet. After picking up a pre-programmed trajectory leading them along a path towards a distant sphere, the engines automatically cut power. The vessel continued upon its course, rotating along its lengthwise axis at a relatively high rate of speed. With the distant stars spinning uncontrollably around them, neither John nor Sofia was able to hold down the contents of their stomachs. The low gravity of space travel had never been a part of the plan.

  Their target planet was probably several thousand kilometers away, maybe more. But before they had left the cockpit, it was visible as a floating, dim orb reflecting off the Savior’s light in the shape of a half circle. Centered directly to the nose of the vessel’s conical head, it was the only object visible through the window that did not appear to be revolving around them.

  John could not talk. The disgusting taste in his mouth was making it difficult to ignore the nauseating feeling rumbling around in his gut. Holding on to the table
’s leg he attempted to keep his mind in a neutral state, avoiding the connection of his thoughts with the current state of his body. Sofia was in no better shape than he. She had wrapped the sleeves of her shirt around another one of the table’s legs before tying it off at her ankle. Floating about with the muscles of her body as relaxed as she could possibly get them, she was kept in her current position suspended in the center of the room by her improvised tether. She did not dare to open her eyes for fear that the dry heaves would start up once again.

  For the next few hours they remained in their meditative frames of mind. Weary and physically broken down, they were like human shaped helium balloons, peacefully floating free.

  Acclimating slowly to the novel environment after several hours of misery, John and Sofia were finally able to work their way down to the lowest storage area. There they were able to secure for themselves some juice and salt crackers from one of the many hundreds of crates, mostly marked with the words Golden World, with a few Raw and Red boxes at the distal areas from the bay door. After overcoming the initial queasiness under their encounter with zero gravity, the feelings of weightlessness had become something quite satisfying. With the ability to move from the lowest deck to the “table-room” with minimal effort on their part, they began playfully floating around, making a game out of their current circumstance despite the severity of their present situation. Tossing balls of juice from their straws towards one another was just one among several other forms of silliness that they were exhibiting. Killing time was not going to be a difficult objective to complete.

  Periodically checking in on their relative position to the approaching planet, it appeared that they were making significant progress towards their unintended destination. Although it was still quite a ways off, it no longer appeared as just an insignificant ball floating in space. Their proximity to the strange new world allowed them to see that is was brown in color for the most part, with swathes of green covering approximately ten to twenty percent of the exposed portion of its visible face.

  The pilot’s screen had not changed in appearance since they had left home. It still continued to display the countdown time to landing, which currently read, 47 hours 33 minutes 15 seconds, and flashed in the upper corner, Auto Pilot Engaged. John had attempted on more than one occasion to obtain some usable data through the use of the handheld computer, but was unsuccessful in his endeavors. Tucking away the handheld into his pocket, he finally gave up trying.

  With nearly two more days of travel left, it appeared that, overall, the entire course of their journey would not be ending anytime soon. The control of the situation was out their hands. Spinning a cracker in Sofia’s direction from across the room, John watched it as it whirled around like a falling leaf. The time would go by much too fast, he thought.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  John could hardly believe that their arrival at the new planet was already upon them. As he slid into the pilot’s chair he gave a glance to Sofia. She was in the same mental boat as he. The past couple of days had been so incredible that she hated to see them coming to an end.

  Turned about on its central axis, the nose of the airship was now facing the direction from which they had launched nearly three days prior. The pilot’s screen was counting down from twelve minutes to destination. Entering into the planets atmosphere, the vibration of the vessel was intensifying under the returning friction.

  Buckling themselves in, the two of them could feel the reverse thrust of the vehicle as, once again, their bodies were crushed into the chairs, making it difficult, if not impossible, to verbalize their discomfort. Having to endure the strenuous pressure being exerted upon them made the short duration of the landing process feel much longer than it actually was.

  As the color pallet outside began morphing from the deep blackness of space and starlight to the soft, baby blue of a familiar sky, the vehicle began to settle into a steady decline. The pressures upon their bodies assuaged. The cruel discomfort began to resolve.

  The pilot’s screen now read 3 minutes 48 seconds to landing. An entirely new world was just within reach. As they looked upon each other, John stretched his hand over the ladder between them, to which Sofia responded in like fashion. Taking each other by the hand, the uncertainty of the next few minutes were building up an anxious anticipation within their bowels as regards to what was in store for them when they made their exit from the airship.

  The steadiness by which the transporter was falling felt slow and controlled. The vibratory response upon entering the new atmosphere had now completely ceased. The remaining time spent between heaven and soil culminated in a consistent, almost wave-like, liquid feeling that caused their stomachs to tingle.

  Jarred back against the shock absorbing springs of the chairs, they could feel their vehicle touching down on the concrete pad. Unbuckling his harness as the engines began powering down, John lifted himself out of the chair and climbed down the ladder.

  “Listen,” he said.

  With her eyes moving about the cabin, Sofia tried to grasp at the sounds he was hearing, but everything was silent. Released from the restraints of the chair, she sat up, turning to the side and allowing her legs to hang over the edge of the seat.

  “I don’t hear anything. What do you hear?” she whispered.

  As the engines completely cut power, the pilot’s computer station went cold. The lights in the cabin blinked off. The Savior’s rays of light were filtering through the darkly tinted window, casting simple shadows along the walls.

  “I don’t hear anything either. It seems too quiet,” he said in a low, soft voice.

  After being assisted down from the chair, Sofia followed John to the doorway, where they opened it with cautious care. Making their way down the walkway and descending the ladder, the eerie silence was causing John to become more than mildly concerned.

  Opening the first of the three storage bay doors, they began to progress down the ladder. With normal gravity having been restored, both John and Sofia were feeling a bit unsteady due to the vertigo inducing height of the descent. The cabin was empty just as they expected, but there was still nothing but silence from the outside world.

  Descending the second and third storage areas resulted in the same soundless phenomena. Listening intently with their ears pressed against the final door, there were no vibrations pulsating throughout its metal composition, there were no screeches from the hydraulic systems of the forked vehicles unloading and loading the airship, everything was the same: silence. Carefully pulling back the door, John let it creep up just enough for Sofia to peek inside.

  “Do you see anything?” he asked.

  “Open it just a little more.”

  The space widened as John made just enough room for her to drop her upper torso through. With a cursory glance, she could see that the bay was untouched. There were no signs that anyone had entered in.

  “There’s nobody here,” she said, drawing her head back out of the threshold.

  “You’re kidding,” John retorted.

  “No. I’m serious. Take a look.”

  Retracting the door all the way back, John knelt down, peering through in amazement.

  “They haven’t even opened the bay door yet,” he said.

  Sitting back against the wall, he thought for a moment. The bay doors always seemed to open upon landing. Why was this any different?

  “This doesn’t seem right, does it?” he whispered.

  “It is rather strange, I think,” Sofia responded, not really sure of what to make of the situation.

  Standing up and positioning himself behind the door, he said, “Stand back for a moment.”

  Closing them off from the lower bay, John rotated the locking handle. Sitting back down once again, he placed his hand over Sofia’s.

  “Let’s just wait a little bit. I’m sure nobody knows we’re in here. But I just want to see what happens before we do anything else.”

  “This is getting scary, John,” Sofi
a said, moving closer to his side.

  “We’ll be alright. Don’t worry yourself over this,” he responded.

  John kept his composure resolute in order to help Sofia remain calm, even though, he figured, he was probably more afraid than she, due the fact that he really did not have any control over their predicament.

  It had been, perhaps, an hour or more since they had sealed themselves off from the deck below. With her head snuggled against John’s abdomen, Sofia had fallen into a restless sleep, intermittently twitching and mumbling, while using him as her pillow. Other than their movement, there had been no activity inside the airship. As far as John was able to discern, the outside seemed to be equally composed. He did not want to wake Sofia, but they could not remain in the transporter forever.

  “Sofia,” John whispered, nudging her arm.

  Readjusting her head, she rolled onto her side, continuing with her heavy breathing.

  “Sofia, it’s time to wake up, girl,” he said a little louder.

  With a light shaking of her shoulder, she sat up with a startle, speaking in a frightful, disoriented tone.

  “What is it? Is someone coming?”

  “No. No, it’s nothing,” he said, attempting to calm her fears while rubbing her back. “I was just trying to wake you up. It’s been quite a while now. I think we should go down there and see if we could find a way out.”

  “You mean, go outside?” Her words were veiled in disbelief.

  “Yes, why do you say it like that? There hasn’t been a single sound since we landed. I don’t think anybody’s out there,” he commented.

  “I don’t know about that, John. How do you know they’re not waiting for us? Maybe they want us to open the door and walk out so that they don’t have to take any chances of coming after us in here. We are armed, you know.”