by Craig Gaydas
She smiled, which caused my blood to run from her lips to the floor in large drops. “For showing me how to love someone again.”
I heard a commotion in the background as people gathered around us. It didn't matter, though. I had accepted my destiny to Vanth's delight, no matter how short-lived it was. I closed my eyes.
“Nathan?” Lianne shook me.
The cycle of life has only one ending…death. Mortem's words ebbed and flowed from my consciousness like the ocean tide. There was only one thing left to do.
I died.
Test Results
Did he pass?A female voice echoed.
Yes, a male voice responded. He did everything asked of him. We can ask no more.
Nathan? It was the female again. Her name was just out of reach of my memory. Leah? Lee? Lou-Anne? So I assume the planet has been approved?
The male responded. Yes.
Nathan? It was a different man's voice this time. Actually, it sounded more like a boy. A hand fell on my shoulder and gently rocked back and forth. Go away strange hand, I just want to sleep.
NATHAN! The voice was louder, more forceful. The rocking became more rigorous. The disembodied voice started to piss me off. Couldn't he tell I was trying to sleep? Wait a minute…sleep? I should be dead, Shouldn't I? I could have sworn I died. Wait a minute…what killed me? Where was I?
When I opened my eyes, I found myself blinded by a bright beam of light. Was this heaven? The light stung my eyes and I forced my eyes closed.
“NATHAN!”
“Move the light away from eyes, sweet Jesus!” I roared “I can't see a damn thing.”
The light moved away and my eyes adjusted to the surrounding gloom. Sam's pale face peered at me through the shadows like a Guy Fawkes mask. It was New Mexico Sam: Sam the teenager.
Wait…wasn't he older?
I felt tightness across my chest and I pressed my hand against it to find the (stab wound) rope which bound us together. My flashlight had been tossed in the corner of the cave, shining its beam on the collapsed wall.
Wait a minute, there was an opening in this wall, wasn't there?
“What happened?” I muttered groggily. The dull throbbing in my chest continued and my wrist itched as if a thousand fire ants crawled across it. Something was tickling my forehead. I placed my hand there and grimaced when I pulled it back sticky with blood.
“I think you hit your head on the rocks,” he explained. “Your rope went tight and I felt like I was being reeled in like a fish, but then it suddenly, went slack, like you were no longer there. I grabbed my flashlight and ran in here as fast as I could.”
I stood on rubbery legs and went to the wall. The stone was solid. I passed my hand over the rocks and came across some recesses, but there was no opening to be seen. I picked up my flashlight and pointed the beam at the wall.
“No opening,” I murmured.
“No opening?” Sam parroted. “There wasn't one the last time we were here, why would there be one now?” His worried look told me he was most likely contemplating whether or not I suffered a serious concussion.
I drew in a deep breath. Am I going crazy? “Was it all a dream?” I whispered.
“Hey, I don't know about your dreams buddy, but my mom is gonna have a conniption if I don't get home in time to go grocery shopping.” He untied the rope from around my waist and did the same for himself. After shoving it into his pack, he picked up my rock hammer and flashlight and handed them to me. “Grocery shopping is like a damn ritual in my house. She is such a pain in the ass.”
I shoved the rock hammer in my belt loop and followed him out of the cave in a trance. I could not stop thinking that things were not right. The setting sun cast gloomy shadows over the jagged rocks and dusty hills of Carlsbad Caverns. Sam and I said our goodbyes before I picked up my bike and made the voyage home.
I pulled up to my house just as the sun settled over the mountains on the horizon. My mother's Toyota was parked in the driveway, but my father's Range Rover was not. That in itself was not unusual for this time of day, but I still couldn't shake the feeling that something was not right. I dropped my bike next to the garage and stepped over to the garden hose. I let the cool water run through my fingers as I tried my best to wash the blood from my face. The last thing I needed was my mother having a meltdown and calling EMS, the police, and FEMA over a cut. When I was convinced I had washed most of it off, I opened the front door. When I stepped inside, the odor of pasta sauce cooking on the kitchen stove bombarded me. The TV in the living room was not on, but the table lamp was. The remote sat on the recliner where I had left it.
“Mom?” I called.
She emerged from the kitchen with her hand buried under a dish towel. Her white kitchen apron was stained red with sauce. The saying on the front read, “Your opinion wasn't in the recipe”. I hated that apron, which was probably the reason she wore it. I also hated spaghetti. I bet my entire allowance it was boiling on the stove at that moment.
She looked at me and frowned. “You have been out at the Caverns again, haven't you?” It was more of a statement than a question.
I rolled my eyes. I forgot to remove my rock hammer before coming in the house and of course, she picked right up on it. “Yeah, mom,” I groaned.
She looked at me disapprovingly. “Go upstairs and wash up, dinner will be done in a few minutes.”
I trudged up the stairs and into the bathroom. I frowned when I saw my reflection in the mirror. It looked as if I had aged five years. Sprouts of hair grew from my chin and I rubbed my hand through it slowly. It felt like a wire brush and I grimaced. Why didn't my mother notice this? The itchiness on my wrist became almost unbearable and I rolled up my sleeve to see the cause. When I saw the angry scar encircling my wrist I nearly panicked. I flexed my fingers, but they appeared to work okay. There seemed to be no residual damage of any kind as a result of the injury.
“What the hell?” I blurted.
That was when I remembered the dull throbbing in my chest. It subsided a bit since I returned from the cave and so I thought it was simply a result of the rope being too tight. When I still felt pressure radiating from the (Stab wound) I removed my shirt and my eyes widened.
A three inch vertical scar ran from the top of my abdomen to the bottom of my chest. I ran my finger over it and although it was rough to the touch, I didn't feel any pain.
I died.
I threw my shirt on and turned the faucet on. I splashed some cool water on my face and wiped it off with a nearby towel. When I was done, I looked a bit more presentable and a lot less like I had just crawled from a grave. I hung the towel on the rack, but froze when the doorbell rang. Who could have been calling at this hour? Sam was, most likely, well on the way to his grocery adventure. Downstairs, I heard the creak of the door hinge as my mother opened the door. I wrung the towel into a knot and moved closer to the bathroom door. The sound of voices drifted upstairs, but I could not make them out, I could only tell that one was my mother and the other was a male.
“Nathan, it's for you!” she shouted up the stairs.
I panicked and dropped the towel. Do assassins ring doorbells? I closed my eyes and tried to calm myself. Perhaps Sam didn't go out with his mother, but instead came by to pick up his copy of Call of Duty. I left the towel where I dropped it and descended the stairs. I took each stair slowly and it was an eternity before I reached the bottom.
My mother stood next to the open doorway, rubbing sauce into her apron with a frown. Standing in the doorway was a middle-aged man with fiery red hair tied back in a ponytail. He wore a dark colored suit and a red tie. A sudden feeling of Déjà vu overwhelmed me. I recognized him from somewhere. No matter how much I concentrated, I could not remember where I had seen him. The hairs on my arms were standing at attention.
Stranger danger.
“Nathan, I'm sure you know this person?” my mother asked. When I shook my head and stared dumbly at the two of them, her frown deepened. “This i
s Cal, your high school guidance counselor. He says he needs to talk to you.” She finished wiping her hands on her apron, which was now stained scarlet with sauce. She officially looked like the dude from Texas Chainsaw Massacre. She tossed him a sour look. “I asked him why he was coming around now, since school doesn't start for another month and a half, but he insisted it was a personal matter.” She pointed a finger at me. “You're not in trouble are you? You could be the only person on the planet to get in trouble with the school system during the summer break, young man!”
“Ma, I'm not in trouble.” I looked at Cal with uncertainty. “At least, I don't think so.”
Cal flashed a smile full of perfectly white teeth. “I can assure you that you are not in trouble.”
I have seen that smile somewhere before. Despite my apprehension and my internal alarms blaring DEFCON 1 at me, I stepped outside with him. He shut the door in my mother's face and I heard her cussing on the other side. I dropped in one of the two rocking chairs on the front porch while he slid into the other.
“Are you new at the school?” I asked. “Mr. Thompson is the school's guidance counselor and I have never seen you before.”
His smile never wavered. “You could say that, Nathan.”
I gripped the sides of the rocking chair, ready to bolt at a moment's notice. “So why are you here?”
He crossed his legs and rocked the chair gently back and forth. “As your new guidance counselor, I am here to talk about your future.” His eyes drifted to my wrist and he stopped rocking.
“Um…shouldn't this wait until the school year starts or something?” A breeze kicked up a tumbleweed and tossed it across our front lawn.
The child has passed the test. Earth has been accepted. Let us begin.
I heard the words, but they didn't come from Cal. It was as if the breeze carried them across our lawn. I looked around to see if anyone else lurked in the shadows, but we were alone.
“Let's just say, I wanted to get an early start on your career.” His smile never faltered. “As your guidance counselor…” he stopped and let out a dry cough before continuing. “It is my duty to make sure you are on the correct path to success.”
Traitor. Murderer.
Again the words originated from the wind. I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples as I felt one doozy of a headache coming. They are coming. Be ready. The voices were beginning to drive me insane. I stood up briskly and went to the door. “I'm sorry, I'm not feeling well and you caught me at a bad time. Can we talk about this some other time?”
Cal stood and nodded. “I understand, but before I go, I wanted to show you something. Judging by your school records, I noticed you take a keen interest in astronomy. I thought you would get a kick out of this.” He looked up and pointed toward the sky.
I stepped out of the doorway and followed his gaze. The sun was behind the mountains, which allowed a clear view of stars as they began to appear in the night sky. I didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. “What about it?”
“Sometimes, we look, but we don't see,” he remarked mysteriously. “Don't you see it? It is just to the left of the Big Dipper.”
I strained my eyes and tried my best to follow where he pointed. Eventually, I saw it. What I thought at first was a twinkling star was actually something else. Although it was twinkling, the colors were not right. Instead of a white light fading in and out, it intermittently changed from blue to a pale green color in a pattern not unlike a vehicle's turn signal.
“That's no moon, it's a space station,” I muttered.
Cal lowered his finger and a puzzled look came over his face. “I'm sorry, what was that?”
I didn't respond. Instead I continued watching while the light increased in intensity and size. “What is it?”
Cal chuckled and stepped off the porch. “Make sure you check out the news tonight.” He started toward the driveway, but stopped abruptly. “Oh, I almost forgot this.” He pulled a folded manila envelope from his pocket and handed it to me. It had no marks or writing on the outside.
“What is this?” I asked.
Cal offered me another smile. “Open it when you get inside, but make sure to check the news first.” He wandered down the driveway and disappeared among the shadows.
I bounced the envelope up and down in my hand. It felt empty and I wondered if he was playing a trick on me. Look at him with his empty envelope, ha-ha-h April Fools! I stepped inside the house and stared at the remote on the recliner.
“Dinner is just about ready,” my mother called from the kitchen. “Your father should be home soon.”
I grabbed the remote and switched on the television. I started flipping through channels, but stopped when I ran across CNN. On the screen, a female reporter stood in front of the White House, looking a tad disheveled. It was clear she needed to get in front of a camera in a hurry and didn't have time to pretty herself up.
“Thank you, John. I am standing here in front of the White House as we await the White House's official statement on the matter. From what we understand right now, an unidentified aircraft landed on the south lawn of the White House. The Secret Service remains quiet on the matter, but they adamantly deny this is an act of terrorism. The only thing we can do right now is speculate as to who the aircraft belongs to. Some believe it was an unmanned drone shot down by local authorities, other reports state that it may possibly be a helicopter carrying important diplomatic officials. What we do know is…” The reporter stopped and put her hand over her earpiece. “Wait a minute John, we have word that the President is preparing to address the nation.”
The camera switched to the President, standing behind a podium in the press room with the American flag parked behind him. A few new wrinkles tickled the corner of his eyes since I last saw him on TV and his eyes looked puffy and swollen, as if he just woke up. He gripped each side of the podium and leaned in toward the microphone.
“My fellow Americans, I come to you today not as your President, but as a member of the human race. Our civilization has made significant progress throughout history as we evolved together as a species. Innovation and technology drove us to improve ourselves as a society. From the light bulb to the internet, mankind endeavored to improve ourselves as catalysts for driving success worldwide. I am not only addressing the American people today, I am addressing the entire world when I ask that we set aside our differences for one day and open our minds to what I am about to say.
He paused and shuffled some papers in front of him. “Despite everything we have accomplished over the centuries, one question has remained. Are we alone in the universe? Today, that question will be answered.” The President motioned off-screen. The camera panned to follow the President's gaze and stopped just off stage.
I dropped the envelope and my jaw followed. Everything came back to me as if a dam of information had been opened. Images, thoughts, and feelings washed over me like a tidal wave. I fell into the recliner. Standing before the screen were three people, three that I knew very well. I closed my eyes and rubbed them with closed fists because those three people couldn't be standing there. It was impossible. They couldn't be there because they were dead.
Explorer's League Science Officer Satou.
Consortium Diplomat Kale.
Explorer's League Medical Officer Madoc.
Dead. The word haunted me. They were dead. So was I.
As the camera paused on them, I looked down at the envelope on the floor. I picked it up, unfastened the clasp, opened it, and reached inside. My hand fell on something small and metallic. I wrapped my fingers around it and pulled out an ankh, tarnished by time. Inside had been a card and a piece of neatly folded paper. The card sported a logo of a comet splitting a star with the words The Explorer's League written in the upper left corner. Consortiumwas written in the lower right.
With shaky hands, I unfolded the piece of paper and read the words.
To Nathan Chambers,
If you are reading this than my calcula
tions were correct. Calypso located you alive and well, which is wonderful news indeed. Time holes are tricky and we worried whether the one located on Vexall would send you where we wanted it to. I want to start by apologizing for the rigorous testing parameters. I'm afraid we were short on time, so we had to implement the accelerated testing program. You may be reading this and scratching your head in confusion, which is fully understandable. In time, you will understand why we had to do what we did. We had to know whether your planet could handle adversity and accept the responsibility that comes with membership into the Consortium. You probably know this by now, but we sent an envoy to your planet to explain everything. I will conclude this letter by stating that you were one of the greatest to ever pass the test of the Cartographer. We hope there are no hard feelings and we apologize for the way things turned out, but it was the only way we could know for certain whether you were ready for the job. The memory wipe was only temporary and will have worn off by now. You are probably wondering if everything you had experienced was real. The short answer is yes. I do not have time to explain in great detail (the Archives contain all you need to know, should you choose to accept the job). All I can say is time does not bend for us, we bend for it. You told Sam long ago that you regretted not being able to experience your childhood. Go be the child you need to be so you can be the man the universe needs you to be.
Sincerely, Grillick
PS: Lianne says hello and she hopes to see you soon.
PSS: Mortem was incorrect. The cycle of life does not have an ending. Do you know why? Because it is a circle. Actually, it is more like a zodiac, with several thirty degree divisions…well, that is not important. What is important is that time powers the cycle of life and time cannot experience death. Death does not end life…it simply recycles it.
I turned the business card over in my hand. On the back, a single word had been written.
Cartographer.
Dear reader,
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