Matakeo: Echoes of the Future

by Daniel L. Newcomb

  After pulling his head out from under the console, he gave the distress beacon another try. For the second time the red light flashed.

  “No! This cannot be happening.” Then it struck him like a meteor shower. The thought was so surreal. Until now, he had completely forgotten about Celestial. A mentally fabricated scene of her being sucked out of the breach replayed in his mind. His cry echoed in the cockpit for only him to endure.

  Suddenly, a familiar voice sounded through the ship’s com.

  “Are you alive up there, brother?”

  “Kwal? Yes, I am. Are you okay?”

  “How bad off are we?”

  “Uh?”

  Before Kwin could finish, the other red-head man cut him off. “That bad, eh?”

  “There are two ships out here. One is almost past our position and the other is almost upon us.”

  “Well, signal them!”

  “The beacon is broke.”

  “Then we had better hope they are in a rescuing mood.”

  “Annie believed we could receive a miracle.” Kwin knew initiating that kind of talk only offended Kwal.

  “Tell her I said goodbye.”

  “She is already gone,” Kwin spoke a half-truth.

  “Win a few, lose a few bro.”

  Kwin was slightly angered by his brother’s response.

  Will he always be so insensitive toward others? Somehow, he answered himself.

  “Kwin, get down here to the airlock with us.” There was a pause. “If we are rescued, it will be a close one.”

  “Not yet.” He would not leave the cabin until he could get the hard drive removed. There was no way he would abandon his mother, even if it meant to die in the process. He pulled out a crescent wrench to begin detaching the hard drive. Realizing the ships outside might be out of range, he looked out the cockpit window.

  The second craft that had appeared on radar was flying in close proximity of the Stallion. Kwin watched with excitability.

  “Yes!” He concluded they were going to save the day.

  His viewpoint did not do the size of the craft justice. Kwin wanted a better line of sight. He leaned over the console to gain that perspective. Breathtaking was the only thought he could muster. The alien ship was so massive. Mammoth, would be more descriptive. Suddenly, he became disheartened once again. Kwin finally realized what he was staring at, only after he saw laser weapons firing from the ship’s huge guns.

  This was a warship. Its aggression was aimed upon the smaller craft that had just passed by. Then it sunk in. There would be no rescue. The first ship was in a big hurry to escape the clutches of the one giving chase. On the flip side of the coin, the alien ship appeared hell-bent in stopping the first craft.

  Kwin’s hopes were dashed. “How could this happen?” he questioned. “What are the odds a ship should arrive to lend a hand? Make the percentages even greater. Add a second ship. All of this for nothing!”

  “Chill out,” Kwal’s voice came through the com, only to go unheard.

  Kwin was experiencing frustration like never before. It quickly turned to anger. He lashed out.

  “If there is a god out there, why would you do this to me? Why?”

  Not once in all his life had he ever lost control of his temper. As he stood there looking on, his muscles tightened and he clenched his teeth. Without realizing it, he bit into his lower lip. A bead of blood dripped onto the damaged control board. In a final outburst, he vented the stress. With a closed fist, he thrust it into the instrument panel in front of him.

  Unaware of where his knuckles would land, he hit the release button for the escape pod. This feature was still functional. It jettisoned out of its holding bay.

  “Great! Maybe I should have double checked the pod to see if it were fixable?” His contemplation left him wanting. Plopping down into the seat, he buried his face in his hands. Little did he know the speeding capsule was on a collision course with the alien warship. Little did he know miracles sometimes do come in many shapes and forms.

  18

  There is nothing eerier than the loneliness associated with drifting in space. No starship with artificial gravity to feel secure in. Maybe thirty minutes of oxygen left to survive on. The frigid cold slowly penetrating through the protective layers your suit is comprised of. As if matters could not be worse, a chink in the visor of your face plate caused by a shard of metal from a disintegrating ship you had recently been sucked out of. All of these circumstances combined make the odds of survival diminish quickly.

  This is enough to cause most to be filled with fear. Many deaths happen tragically, allowing individuals to escape the pain associated with it. Those who go the slow death sometimes go into shock shortly after an accident, which seems to bury any chance for the mind to be anxious. It is completely different when you are not traumatized and have undeniable proof you are going to die. This is when you know you need a miracle to take place and fast.

  Celestial found herself engulfed with all of these predicaments. At first, she could not help but think about the possible outcome. Will I run out of air first? Will the face plate finish splitting open, causing my life to be instantly sucked from me?

  Trials and tribulations. Many had come and gone in her lifetime. She believed all of them were divinely appointed to refine and develop her character into the Paradisiacal she is now. So there should be no fear of death.

  There was an assurance in her mind. Faith had come easy for her species. Many times they had seen their creator’s helpers. Paradisiacals were committed to do their god’s bidding. For over ten thousand years they had interacted with other worlds on behalf of their god.

  Could be worse. Celestial had just survived total disintegration. The cargo strap that was a temporary lifeline to the freighter she had been on, had been cut in two between the hull and the compressed door. As the ship made its jump into hyperspace, the strap snapped in half. This kept her from being pulled along in tow. The intense heat associated with the jump would have charred her to a crispy critter in fractions of a second.

  There was still one issue of concern. Her body was still drifting at a fast rate of speed. This was from the forward progress of the freighter as it jumped. In zero gravity she would continue to drift forever. However, there was still hope.

  Celestial hoped one of the Morellion patrol ships would detect her on their scanners. This seemed logical. They would search the debris to find clues as to who the craft belonged to. That is, if their port security had not done a sincere checking of the ships manifest when it docked. Morellion’s security protocols rank close to the bottom of the list by most standards. She remained hopeful.

  Once they found a sign of life, they would rescue her. However, it would be for the sole purpose of interrogating her. There was only one positive to the scenario. She would have an opportunity to escape the Morellions. That was better than her current certainty of death.

  Periodically, she would glance at the clock displayed upon her HUD inside the visor. As the minutes ticked away, she wondered if the patrol would actually see her. The Paradisiacal was positive they would come to search.

  Unfortunately, this is not how it went down. The ships turned right, taking a course further away from her location. Now she worried. Still plenty of time left. She had fifteen minutes of air left in the tank. She knew help could come from the most unfathomable places.

  Never does it come from where we expect it to; she recalled her mother’s voice from the not so distant past.

  Something caught her attention as she watched the patrol disappear around the far side of Morella. To her displeasure, the chip in the visor had lengthened. What was once hardly noticeable had expanded close to a centimeter. At this rate it would not matter how much oxygen was left in the tank. Realistically, she was aware that maybe one to two minutes were left before she became space dust.

  Celestial shuddered at the thought. She closed her eyes. “Think on something pure.” she said out loud. In her mind,
she formed a picture of a kingdom. A spiritual paradise awaited her arrival. This vision dissipated as quickly as it had materialized. She believed her mortal thoughts could not do the real place justice. Do not place a value on the beauty of afterlife, she scorned herself silently.

  Frustration attempted to take control of her final seconds on this side of paradise. “Think pure.” She forced the words. I want to think of something lovely.

  Kwin? Why did he come to mind? However, the more she thought about him it proved one thing. He was blameless. Well, no one in a physical body is perfect. Still, the human she met seventy minutes ago was pretty darn close. A smile appeared upon her face. Sensations of warmth covered her body from head to toe.

  Oh my! Suddenly, the realization occurred to her. I am infatuated with a human. “I am stronger than this.” She reinforced her will.

  Celestial knew she needed to open her eyes. For years she was taught to look defeat directly in the eyes. Her father’s teachings were a reminder that death’s sting was fleeting; microseconds at best. So she did just that. The Paradisiacal opened her eyes.

  Her heart skipped a beat. Startled, for there in front of her was what appeared to be a human being. No suit. No helmet. No oxygen tank. What she found hard to believe was he was alive and breathing. Then it dawned on her who he was. Celestial’s mind flashed back to an incident from her childhood.

  How old was I? Seven? No. I was six. I was alone and playing in the river by my parent’s home. I remember losing my foothold on the bedrock. Then I went under. Several times I tried to surface. Once, I think I might have had my toes on the ledge that I had been removed from? It was dark and cold. I could not hold my breath any longer. There was a screaming in my ears. All I could think about were my parents. They were going to miss me.

  Then suddenly, it was as if I had been pulled from the depths of darkness. I was standing amidst the most brilliant light I had ever seen. Greater than the sun my home world revolves around. There he was, my creator's messenger, pulling me away from an absolute certainty.

  The visor shattered. Natural instinct told her to hold her breath even though she was cognizant of the fact it would do no good. Her reflexes were not quick enough for this, even though she knew it was coming. A sharp, shrilling sound reverberated in her ears as the suit decompressed. A harsh, burst of cold flashed through her body, chilling her to the bone.

  Even though the being was detectable, her vision blurred as soon as the face plate disintegrated. Everything vibrated back and forth at a hellish rate. The Paradisiacal felt like her head was about to implode.

  Right before the black out, she felt the being wrap an arm around her waist. He placed a free hand on the back of her helmet. Then he pulled her head toward his own.

  As he placed his lips to hers, she half knowingly thought he was attempting to kiss her. Within seconds she was breathing freely in the vacuum of space. This sparked a reaction from her. She giggled like a young child. She perceived they were moving. A vast multitude of stars rocketed out of her line of sight as fast as they were coming in. Celestial could have sworn this being and her were traveling faster than the speed of light. Somewhere under the layers of fog clouding her mind and judgment was an affirmation she would be alright.

  Consciousness quickly departed. The sensation was fantasia. The conception of three words developed in her mind. She wanted to speak them but her lips would not move. In her dream-like state, she spoke them anyway.

  Thank you, Guardian.

  19

  Star Harbor is the public space port located two hundred miles above the atmosphere of Luminescence. Over three thousand starships and freighters recorded every hour by Traffic Control. On this particular day, all inbound and outbound craft were on hold with exception of high priority dropships coming up from the planet surface. Everything was in lock down until the armada bound for the Giefan Cluster was away.

  At the east end of the harbor, two people abandoned a stolen ship immediately after they had docked it in a slip. They narrowly made it in before the lock down. Then the couple traversed their way down the catwalk. They had to weave their way in and out of all the pilots who were standing around waiting for the suspension to be lifted. Very few chose to wait it out aboard their crafts.

  The two humans were not concerned about being detected by anyone. Invisibility had its advantages. The only thing they needed to be mindful of was to make sure they did not bump into anyone. A large group of people up in arms over a cloaked individual was not the kind of attention they desired.

  Every time they passed a moored craft the two would pause long enough to check it out. If it was not for their invisibility, onlookers might think they was window shopping. Ironically, that was exactly what they were doing. Judging each ship’s appearance, the couple was looking for one that had a presentation of being fast and reliable.

  After checking one of these craft out, Darius grabbed Teron by the hand. He led her along side a sleek-looking ship. This was the one he wanted.

  Teron stopped suddenly. In doing so, she jolted his arm. She then came in close to him. Placing her lips to his ear, she whispered. “I saw the pilot go in this one.”

  He gave a wink of assurance. With the nod of his head he motioned for her to continue on. The door to the ship was wide open. They invited themselves in. Cautiously, they peered around to see if they could spot the pilot. The invisible man stepped further and further into the hold. After getting a first hand glimpse inside the cargo hold, he realized his first assumption about the make of this craft was correct. This particular ship was designed to haul small, critical items such as donor organs, plasma and maybe advanced munitions. This one would be fast.

  He turned around to face his partner. Then he spoke to her in a low voice. “Go on back to the entrance and shut the door. I will find the pilot.”

  She nodded her head, signifying she understood. The woman diligently tip-toed her way back.

  Darius moved to the forward of the ship. He spied into the cockpit. No luck there. Darius located the staircase leading down to the living quarters. After slipping through the mess hall he came upon two doors. One was open. A quick glance into the sleeping quarters produced no results. Judging by the appearance of the room, he concluded the pilot was not a great housekeeper. Dirty under clothes, shirts and pants were strewn about the small room.

  An odd noise caught Darius’ attention. The sound originated from behind a closed door on the right. Whoever was in there sounded as if they were in excruciating pain. The trouble this person was experiencing was associated with the bodily sounds echoing from behind the door. A male voice vocalized a sigh of relief. Immediately following, there was a forced grunt and the splashing of water.

  Would not take a genius to figure out what room this one was. Even if he had not heard the man, the distinct odor would have been clue enough.

  One could not ask for a better holding cell than the facility. Darius laughed to himself. He found a panel on the wall past the two doors. Opening it, he ran a finger down a vertical row of switches. There was not one for the restroom itself. Coming to the conclusion it was located on the same block with the sleeping quarters, he flipped the switch. All the power in that compartment shut down. This incited the person inside the facility.

  “Hey! What the hell?” The startled pilot rose up from off the warm seat and tried the light switch. Nothing happened. He fumbled around in the dark until his hand touched the button that under normal circumstances would activate the door. This function was out-of-order as well. Confined in the room to smell his self brought about a feeling of frustration. Even though he believed to be alone on his ship, he screamed several times in hopes someone might rescue him from this dilemma.

  Once the pilot was detained, Darius went after his partner and brought her to the cockpit.

  “Let’s do this.”

  “How are we going to leave? If we fly out there they will arrest us!” Teron felt like she raised a good point.

&nb
sp; “We have no other option,” he answered. “If we do not beat that armada to hyperspace, we will have failed.”

  Teron touched a panel of controls that activated the ship’s engines. Instantaneously, they fired up. The hum from the twin Z-7 Lightning’s rumbled to a finely tuned chorus. All of the cabin lights came to life, making the cockpit look like a miniature city at night.

  Without hesitation, she backed the commandeered ship out of the docking slip. The woman engaged full throttle before it came to a complete stop of its rearward motion. A massive burst of spent energy formed a green, vortex cloud behind the fleeing vehicle. The catwalks in the vicinity shook violently, which in turn caused the metal planks to tremble under the feet of everyone standing in the vicinity. Many of the pilots turned their heads to see who was attempting to leave port during a lock down.

  Immediately, they were hailed by the harbor tower.

  “Unauthorized craft, you are to power down and wait to be boarded.”

  “Ignore it!” Darius knew the odds were not in their favor to pull this off. “Give it all she has.”

  “She is only going to have so much power on a cold takeoff!” Teron explained.

  Once again they were hailed by the tower. “You are to power down and wait to be boarded. Failure to do so…”

  Darius turned the communication system off.

  “I really wanted to hear what the consequences would have been.” Teron laughed nervously.

  “What does it matter?” His countenance was as hard. “I have no plans on facing them.”

  “By the way, I almost forgot to ask.” Teron kept her focus forward. “What did the captain think about us borrowing his ship?”

  “He thought it stunk.”

  With engines at ninety percent, the ship raced through the harbor. Teron weaved the craft in and out of large ships moored away from the docks.

  “This baby handles like a dream.” She declared.

  Minutes later they cleared the break.