Story Time

by Linell Jeppsen

“‘Doctor!’ I cried.

  “‘Shush, Naomi. He’s still alive, but we have to get him under shelter and into surgery now!’

  “A number of men had joined us, and thankfully someone had had the presence of mind to bring a sling. I stood and watched as Michael was loaded onto the makeshift stretcher and carried away into the house. I helped Steven up off the ground and we walked slowly into the house after the others. The Remi clung to my thigh, and I could feel its unearthly warmth. Steven sighed and said, ‘Boy, am I in trouble. I almost wish the bullet had hit its mark.’

  “‘Steven!’ I scolded. ‘He was worried about you, that’s all. We all were. It was pretty silly to go out there like that. It’s a wonder you weren’t killed!’

  “Steven sighed again, and we walked into the living room. I sat the small man on the couch and ran into the dining room, where Andy, Lori, and my aunt Wendy worked over Michael’s body. His shirt was peeled back, exposing the heavy muscles of his chest and the round, puckered hole where the bullet had entered. He didn’t seem to be breathing. Dr. Grossman was squirting blue liquid over Michael’s chest, and barking orders to the women. He glanced at me, and said, ‘Nay, you need to use this to clean that gash on Steven’s shoulder. Be generous…it’s going to sting, but don’t let Steven talk you out of it. Then clean the wound with warm soapy water. Scrub the area thoroughly, but try not to tear the skin any more than it already is, okay?’

  “I nodded and grabbed the sterile antiseptic out of the doctor’s hand. Then, I went into the kitchen for a bowl of warm water, some soap, and a clean rag. I knew that infection was one of the biggest threats the doctor faced, and although he was angry with his partner, the fear and worry was written plainly on his face.

  “Saying a silent prayer for Michael, I knelt on the couch next to our intrepid reporter, and proceeded to clean the bloody evidence of Dwight Engle’s intentions away from Steven Cumming’s shoulder.

  “Four days had passed since Engle’s army came to call and the earthquake rattled the teeth in our heads. Steven was healing nicely, although he was subdued, and clearly troubled by his partner’s silent treatment and cold demeanor. Andy was furious with him, and I had a feeling that this debate had been going on for a long time. I found out from my brother Zack that Steven was once a pretty famous war correspondent, and had been wounded more than once in the line of duty. Apparently, at least as far as the good doctor was concerned, those days were in the past, and his partner had no right to resurrect the ghost of his former glory days to go chasing after a story.

  “I felt that I should try to talk Andy out of his snit, but I was too concerned for Michael to muster the energy. He had survived the surgery, and sat up long enough to admire the bullet that pierced his chest. The Remi had taken up residence in my coat pocket, and when Michael awoke, it did too. It poked its head (or tail…I was not sure which end was which) out of my pocket, and literally flew through the air to land, light as a feather, on Michaels collarbone.

  “Michael gasped once, and realizing that there was no pain, grinned, and stroked the tiny creature with one large finger. ‘Guess you showed them, didn’t you?’ he murmured, as it rolled over in ecstasy.

  “For a little while, I was happy. The ‘Angel’s Sword’ had retreated, and our two wounded warriors were on the mend. Then, Michael started showing signs of infection. His smile waned and his skin took on that ashy cast that I hated so much. The Remi sensed the change, as well. At first it tried to help…bluish, green rays of light pulsed through its body, and seemed to sink beneath its host’s skin.

  “I could tell that the doctor wanted to pluck the creature away…that he mistrusted the Remi’s cleanliness and good intentions, but even he could see that, for a while anyway, it kept the fever at bay, and soothed Michael’s discomfort.

  “It couldn’t keep up with the infection though. High fever raged through Michael’s body like a forest fire. Within two days of the bullets removal, Michael was delirious. The Remi came back to me, crawled into my pocket and grew still. Within hours, Michael’s body seemed to shrink into itself, and his eyes sunk into his skull. He was dying before my eyes, and I despaired.

  “The doctor was frantic. He concocted a weak saline solution with table salt and water, but worried that even the slightest miscalculation on his part would act as a poison rather than a cure. Losing his nerve, he then he ordered a tub of cold water brought in. It took four strong men to lift Michael up and lower him into the ice bath. He thrashed so much in fear and agony that his helpers ended up soaked and shivering, while he huddled in the middle of the tub and trembled.

  “Now, he laid on my parent’s king sized bed, still and distant as though he was already dead, and I groaned in grief. We had never spoken of our feelings for one another; it was too new, and we were always too busy to find the time for silly things like love, or passion. Now, it was too late, and my heart felt like it would burst in two.

  “Suddenly, the Remi stirred in my pocket, and leapt out and onto the bed. At the same time I heard shouts coming from outside and I thought, Oh great, it’s Engle again! I don’t have time for this…not now!

  “The Remi quivered on the bed and then it started to glow. The wall across the room lit up and I saw the delicate features of the Tatularian female. My heart skipped a beat when the alien spoke.

  “‘Naomi Adams, please tell your soldiers to stand down and let us in,’ she said.

  “Michael stirred fitfully as though he too heard Auntie’s voice, and the Remi practically jumped up and down on the bed with excitement.

  “‘You’re here…right now?’ I gasped, and the little alien’s eyes glowed with warmth.

  “‘Yes, Naomi, we’re outside of your perimeter fencing, but your soldiers are shooting at us, and we can’t leave the ship.’

  “I heard gun shots and my people shouting in rage and defiance. ‘Oh my God…I am so sorry, Auntie. Hold on….” I ran to the window and after a brief struggle with the frozen sash, yanked the window up. I stared at the tiny silver sphere in the sky above the pasture, and hollered down at Steve and the other men to stop shooting.

  “‘It’s Uncle and Auntie you guys…stop shooting!’ I screamed. Steve glared at the spaceship suspiciously for a few moments, and then seconded my order to cease and desist. The shooting stopped and the members of the Harmony ranch watched as the Tat ship landed on the front lawn.

  “I glanced at Michael and the Remi, who was perched once again on Michael’s chest. Then I flew out the door, through the kitchen, and out the front door to welcome our special guests.”

  Chapter 31

  The following excerpts are compiled from interviews and written accounts of Dwight Engle and his followers. (CHURCH OF THE SECOND COMING d in the following, reflect the opinions of the writers, or reporters of the facts herein; furthermore, do we note, that most of the accounts recorded here were given by war criminals and enemies of the state prior to, EX 2022. Steven Cummings, reporting for, The New World Chronicle

  Killing Frost –

  I watched in awe as the tiny Tatularian aliens left their spaceship and walked up to Naomi. They were less than four feet tall, no higher than the top of my thighs, and I’m only 5’7”. The larger of the two, the male, I thought, reached out a long, three-fingered hand, and grasped Naomi’s palm in his. She immediately burst into tears.

  “Michael…he’s dying!” she sobbed, as the other alien, Auntie, wrapped her delicate arms around the girl’s waist and held her as she sobbed.

  “We know,” Uncle confirmed. “That’s why we came. The Remi has been signaling us since it happened. This is the soonest we could break away from our tasks.”

  “You know?” Naomi gulped. “Can you…can you help him?”

  Both aliens nodded, and Auntie announced, “But only if we hurry, Naomi Adams.”

  Naomi’s face lit up with hope. “Yeah…sorry. Let’s go!” She whirled and raced ahead of the two aliens.

  “Naomi!” I called. “May I…?”


  She paused, looking back at me, and then to the aliens, who nodded. “Of course, Steven Cummings is the chronicler,” Uncle said.

  “Come on!” Naomi flew up the porch steps, and into the house.

  I followed and stood in the doorway of the bedroom, watching, as the aliens approached the bed where Michael lay. Auntie reached out and took Andy’s hand, murmuring, “You did as well as could be expected, Doctor. Michael will be fine, now.”

  Then I saw a soft blue glow pass from the aliens’ hand to my partner’s. Before my eyes, I saw Andy transform from a broken husk of a man into the brilliant, talented, and determined doctor I had always known. His shoulders straightened, and his eyes grew bright.

  He glanced over at me and grinned, and I knew then that I was forgiven.

  The aliens laid hands on Michael’s body. Blue and green rays spread like a blanket over his chest, neck and head. Tendrils of light, which were animate, sought out the source of infection, undulating over the man’s skin and sinking deep into his chest.

  A few minutes passed. The two aliens stepped back, and I could see that the Remi was perched on Uncle’s shoulder. He reached up and stroked the creature as it watched its host with the anxious anxiety of a worried pet. Then Michael’s eyes opened.

  His skin was still gray and his eyes were ringed with deep purple bruises, but his gaze was clear, and his teeth gleamed as he smiled. He looked at Naomi and held out his hand, which she grabbed, and kissed, as tears of relief poured from her eyes.

  His voice was a throaty rasp when he grinned up at the aliens. “Uncle, Auntie…how did you know, and how did you get here so fast?”

  Uncle sighed and shook his gray, wrinkled head. “Michael, the Remi has been signaling us for days now, but this was the soonest we could come. We are very sorry that we couldn’t come before now.”

  Michael shrugged, and said, “Hey, I’m not complaining. This is the second time you’ve saved my bacon!”

  The aliens looked at one another in confusion, and the rest of us burst out laughing.

  “It’s a figure of speech,” Michael clarified. “You don’t need to worry about any bacon, okay?”

  Uncle looked almost comically exasperated, “You humans and your odd speech parameters…I don’t know if my associate and I will ever understand you.”

  The Remi flew through the air and landed, as light as air, on Michael’s neck, where it curled up and went to sleep.

  Auntie turned to us and said, “We must let Michael Anderson rest now. The injury and subsequent infection has weakened his body considerably. He will need many days, or even weeks, to heal.”

  With those words and a light touch on Naomi’s shoulder, the two tiny creatures herded the much larger humans out of the room. We trooped downstairs and Naomi said, “Can I offer you something to eat, or drink?” She blushed as she stammered her offer, and I caught the quiet exchange of humor in the alien’s eyes.

  “No thank you, Naomi, but we cannot eat human food. As you can see, our bodies are different from yours.” Auntie held long, spindly arms out to either side of her body and performed a little pirouette. Although the alien’s mouth did not curl up in a smile like a human’s might have, her whole demeanor radiated mirth.

  Naomi bit her lip and said, “I’m sorry; is there anything we can do to thank you…anything we can offer?”

  Uncle shook his head. “No, Naomi Adams, we are adequately nourished and must leave soon. We do want to speak to you for a few moments before we depart. Is there a place for private communication?”

  “Sure…in here,” Naomi said, and led the way into what was once her father’s office.

  I hung back, and Uncle said, “Steven Cummings, please come with us.”

  Turning back to Naomi, he said, “I believe you should bring your most trusted advisors in to hear what we have to say… your brother Zack possibly, and the warrior, Steve Zakar.”

  Naomi nodded and ran out of the room to find the men, while the aliens and I made ourselves comfortable. They stared at me while I fumbled with my notebook and the pencil I always kept on hand. Their mouths didn’t smile, but their eyes gleamed with warmth and interest.

  “Where do you come from?” I blurted.

  They exchanged another glance and a series of clicks and squeaks filled the room as they conversed in their own language. Then, Uncle turned to me and said, “We come from a solar system called, in our language, Tribulon 683. This system is a little over a billion light years away. It is not on your star-maps.”

  I scribbled like mad while trying to think of another question before the others returned. “Um, do your people hate human beings, like the other ones do?”

  Another series of clicks and beeps, then the female said, “Steven Cummings, our people are bookkeepers. We hate no living species…we tabulate them, and record their existence within the continuum. The other beings that have come to your planet do not like or dislike humans either. You are merely a life form on a class M planet…of no consequence.”

  A chill ran through me at the alien’s words. I was suddenly aware of my frail human body and the certain knowledge of my insignificance in the larger scheme of things. These tiny creatures viewed us as an interesting, but unimportant, species in a universe so vast, its parameters were simply, endlessly infinite, and immeasurable. I heard a soft knock at the door and looked up to see Naomi enter the room with Zack and Steve by her side.

  They took seats and stared at the aliens, who were still gazing at me. Auntie’s eyes were huge, and filled with compassion. She gestured with one long, three-fingered hand. The humans in the room gasped as a tiny replica of a small, green planet appeared in the air above her open palm. It spun in mid-air and four small moons rotated around it.

  “Steven Cummings, this is our home world, Tribulon,” she explained. “It is small but adequate for the beings who record the existence of life in the universe. All life is precious to us, important, despite what you may think. We are sorry that human beings are losing their home world. A science lab has been drilling anti-matter into the earth’s core. More advanced species know that this sort of thing must never be done on such a small planet. Nevertheless…”

  She paused for a moment as if in thought, then she added, “This sort of thing is never easy for the beings that inhabit a broken world. It is not easy for us either. Our One-Mind…our God tells us that we must not interfere with the extinction of a race to the exclusion of all others. However, the One also tells us that a balance must be maintained…a vacuum must be filled.” She paused, and turned to her associate.

  The male reached forward and touched the holographic image, which popped like a bubble. Resting one hand briefly on his partners shoulder, he said, “We must not speak further of these things; it is not permitted. Suffice it to say, human beings and their planet have been my associate’s and my principal study. Over time we have become…fond of the creatures that inhabit this world.”

  I was shocked. Auntie and Uncle had somehow read my mind, felt my unease and were trying to ease my fears. I nodded in gratitude and sat back to hear what the aliens wanted to share with us.

  Uncle looked around, and said, “We have been called home. Our duties here are finished. Although my associate and I would rather stay, we have no choice but to obey the directive.” The alien’s shoulders rose and fell, as though in a sigh. “Unfortunately, the situation continues to deteriorate. We wanted to tell you that your climate is no longer stable. The caldera is still emitting noxious gasses into the air, but your atmospheric shield has become…coated, if you will, and is acting as a barrier. Soon, your principal star will not be able to warm the planet’s surface. The people of this world will succumb to an end event…an ice age.” The Tatularian bookkeeper put his slender hands over his face, and I could swear I saw tears in his large, black eyes.

  A babble of hysterical voices surrounded me as I sat in shock. This was really the end? My mind simply refused to believe it. I realized now that although I had alw
ays prided myself on knowing and recording the facts, I would rather that the moon had fallen out of the sky and landed on my head than to know, for a fact, that earth and its inhabitants were doomed.

  Auntie raised her hand, and the frightened voices died down. “We are very sorry to impart this news. We also apologize for having to depart at this pivotal time in humanities timeline.” The female turned toward her associate, and, for a moment, the Tatularians seemed to argue over some fine point. Then she turned back to her audience and said, “We have some…limited information for you. My associate and I see many of you in the continuum.” She turned to glare at Uncle’s sharp whistle of caution. “I can say no more. Just know that for many of you, not all hope is lost. You must strive to survive the coming days. You must be strong, brave, or the time line will distort, warp beyond repair.”

  She sat back in her chair and looked down at her lap, while Uncle picked up the discussion thread. “The hard days of cold and ice come soon. Make preparations to stay as warm as possible.” The male had pulled some sort of metallic tablet from the pocket of the tunic he wore, and seemed to be checking items off a list.

  “Sacrifice the feedstock so you have adequate food…” he paused at Naomi’s gasp of outrage and sorrow. “Naomi, the animals will not survive the cold.” Uncle’s eyes glowed with remorseless sympathy. “There is another point to make before we go. The protective shield will stay stable for a while after we leave. The further we travel, however, the less we will be able to maintain the shields integrity. I calculate that within two days’ time, the shielding bubble will collapse. To that purpose we have brought these to you.”

  Both of the aliens reached into their pockets, and pulled glittering, metallic mesh bags out to show the humans that surrounded them. Uncle reached in to one of the bags and pulled a tiny red stone out of its depths. “Is there a container here that will hold fire?” he asked.

  Naomi nodded and pulled an old ashtray out of a cupboard, placing it on the end table by Uncle’s chair. We watched as the Tatularian touched the pebble. Within moments, the rock was glowing red, and I could feel it’s warmth from across the room.