Dawn sat in silence, mulling over the possibility of hostile alien races. It seemed fantastic, the stuff of pulp science fiction and B movies.
“Do you have proof of this?” she asked as she tried to imagine what a silicon alien looked like. “Is there a library here? Some kind of empirical evidence regarding what you’ve told me?”
“Yes, of course. I will allow you to study everything we learned, everything we acquired.”
Dawn could barely imagine what treasures awaited humanity in the Keeper’s library.
“I must say, I was expecting a visit from Earthlings a few decades ago,” the Keeper continued. “But after the lunar landings, your politicians changed the agenda of your human-based space exploration. They became fixated with the space shuttle and various low-orbit space stations and then side-tracked with a United States government sponsored return to the Moon, which planned to use old technology when new methods were needed.”
“Tell me about it.” Dawn nodded to herself. Little had changed in her time. Politicians were still trying to botch up the space program, but NASA had successfully contracted out the rocket program to a conglomerate of U.S. aerospace businesses, freeing itself to pursue what it did best: scientific exploration.
“But if humans had landed on Mars sooner,” the Keeper said, “I would not have met you, now would I?”
Dawn hesitated. Was it her imagination, or had the alien’s voice just grown softer?
“What did you mean,” she ventured, “when you said you had dreamed of me?”
The Keeper did not answer right away, and Dawn swore she heard him sigh.
“I did not mean it literally,” he finally said, his tone back to sounding flat and mechanical. “I knew someday carbon-based, bilaterally symmetrical, bipedal, sentient beings would evolve on your world. And if you became a space-faring people––”
“How did you know humans would evolve on Earth? I always believed species developed by chance. It’s simply a fluke we exist.”
Again, Dawn heard the strange, rumbling sounds.
“For the vast majority of species, evolution is a fluke, as you call it,” the Keeper conceded. “But with sentient beings...” His voice trailed away.
“Yes?” Dawn asked, intrigued. “What were you going to say?”
“I will prove the process does not necessarily happen by chance. You love the past. Close your eyes, and I will send you there.”
“Huh?” Dawn swallowed and looked around in panic. What the hell was he talking about?
“I will send you to Shurrr,” the Keeper went on. “Long ago, it was the name for your planet. It means the ‘Whispering Ocean’. Poets believed the action of waves caused the seas of your planet to sigh and whisper. Close your eyes, Dawn. Watch for me. I will communicate with you from time to time.”
“No, this is crazy!” She tried to squirm out of the chair, but the damned thing held her captive.
Try holding the Keeper off, she told herself. Maybe Gus and the others are on the way and you’ll be rescued. Still struggling against the chair, she called out, “Listen, if you’re planning to talk to me, then that means you could have contacted someone else on Earth. If that’s the case, why didn’t you?”
“It is difficult to enter someone’s mind without the headset. But how do you know I have not done so already?”
She fell back into the chair, stunned. “Who’s been contacted?” she managed to ask.
“Over time, I have been in contact with several interesting subjects, putting ideas in their heads, so to speak. They did not realize it, of course. Have you never wondered why Einstein made such a tremendous intellectual leap with the theory of relativity, or why Mikhail Gorbachev dissolved the Soviet Union?”
Could the Keeper be believed? But if this is true, then his powers are beyond imagining.
“I thought you said you’d been waiting for us?” Dawn asked. “If we didn’t destroy ourselves, you knew we would eventually travel to Mars and find you. You sounded patient.”
“As you humans say... patience has its virtues, but time has a way of changing one’s perspective. I wanted to be found. If I had waited any longer, humanity might never have reached Mars. Nuclear holocaust is still a distinct possibility on your planet because of nuclear proliferation. Religious fundamentalism of every persuasion threatens the civilized world. Unfortunately, the medieval mind still persists, and the assault on science continues. Surely, you know this.”
“Couldn’t you change that, too? I mean, couldn’t you––?”
“No more questions, Dawn. It is time. I must send you back to Shurrr. Now close your eyes. You’re going home.”
“No!” She tried to yank the headset off, but everything went dark. The last thing she heard was someone off in the distance, far, far away, and there was no mistaking it now.
The Keeper was roaring with laughter.
***
Oh, I don’t understand any of this! Dawann-dracon thought as she removed the headset. If the Keeper’s thoughts were part of Human Dawn’s soul-catcher, then why isn’t he speaking to me now?
Then she remembered how Dawn felt a slight prick in her ear when first using the soul-catcher. Had the Keeper implanted a monitoring device inside her cranium? Was that how he’d recorded Dawn’s thoughts and experiences after the initial reading of her mind? Did he see and hear everything she lived through after that?
I must tell Fey, Tima, and Eshlish about this. Dawann rose to her feet, moved away from the monolith and retrieved her pressure suit. You have to go back up the slick-shaft, she ordered herself as she replaced her gear. There’s a chance they can help you understand everything that happened. And then, perhaps, just perhaps, you can help the rebels and overthrow the Keeper.
She felt a surge of anger at his hypocrisy. He had taken control of the saurian civilization, acknowledging himself as The One, but all along he wasn’t anything more than an alien thug dictator. She narrowed her eyes, recalling what he’d said about the threat imposed by religious fundamentalism in Dawn’s world. Well, the Keeper had done worse here, much, much worse.
And I worshiped him! How could he do this to me? He was my Sun.
She hissed in disgust. Like someone who stares too long at the Sun’s light, I was blinded. What a fool I’ve been! Well, no more!
When she reached the slick-shaft, she crawled inside, sat cross-legged, and waited for the nano-components to take hold of her body and pull her to the surface. But nothing happened. The slick-shaft was hushed, inanimate, as dead as any ordinary tunnel.
Suddenly recalling Human Dawn’s experiences here, when she’d slid down the non-functioning slick-shaft and hurt her elbow, Dawann felt a stab of fear. Supposing the shaft was broken now? What if it never worked again?
She waited for a long time, and then said, “Take me home.”
Again, nothing. No sound. No movement. What had Eshlish told her? That the doorway to the slick-shaft might disappear again? That she might be trapped below ground?
Dawann looked back at the soul-catcher monolith, the gray stone erupting from the floor like the shoot of a newly sprung plant, its alien technology tapping past ages with roots driven deep to the planet’s core. Suddenly, she knew she could not leave this chamber. No way, as Dawn would say. Not now.
Go on, she told herself, shaking her head back and forth. See what happened to Human Dawn. Reach out to her and learn her story. It happened to you, after all, for you and Dawn are one.
Her head feathers lifted and she shivered with excitement. Yes, we are one! It is so simple. All along, I’ve been searching for myself.
She took a breath and slowly exhaled. I should not fear this place, she thought, for I am not trapped. Surely Eshlish and her engineers will rescue me. They will save me.
Or I’ll find my own way out. I’ll save myself.
Dawann-dracon hopped to the floor, flung aside her pressure suit, and walked to the monolith. Leaning against its perfect smoothness, she embraced the stone and
sensed its power.
And, as she closed her eyes, hopeful in return, she felt the pull of the past, and the promise of the future.
PART THREE
Chapter 13
The great floodgates of the wonder-world swung open.
~Herman Melville, Moby Dick
Dawn Stroganoff yawned, rubbing her eyes. Weird dream, she thought, recalling only a few fleeting images of a chair that seemed alive, holding her captive.
A warm breeze wafted over her face, the feeling so delicious she wondered if she had been cooped up somewhere for a long time. She frowned, trying to figure out what had happened. Resting on the ground, she gazed up, watching white clouds steal across the dusky-blue sky.
She stretched and rose. From a carpet of velvet moss, a virgin forest, lush and silent, thrust toward the heavens. Laden with jewel-like droplets of dew, the grove of giant tree ferns had scaly trunks topped with stiff, emerald fronds. An under story of elms and laurels stood beneath the ferns, while near ground level, there were other plants, including some she thought she recognized: ginkgo trees with their broad, fan-shaped leaves; lovely, blossoming magnolias; and clumps of smaller ferns, the budding new growth still tightly curled and drooping toward the earth.
The forest was impressive and uniquely different from anything Dawn had seen, like some kind of throwback, totally primordial. Puzzled, she looked around. Where am I?
The unspoken thought hung in the air, unanswered and unnerving. She took a breath, then another. The air was heavy with the aroma of decaying vegetation. Studying the spongy ground, she guessed many meters of detritus were slowly decomposing beneath her feet.
Dawn glanced left, then right. She could make out a body of water through the shrubs. Moving closer, she peered over a swath of horsetails, with their segmented stalks and feathery, green tops. An electric-blue dragonfly buzzed by her ear and then darted away. Beyond the horsetails, a pond stood dark, still and brackish. A few water lilies had started to bloom on its surface. To her surprise, she spotted a black salamander, as large as a housecat, lolling on a rock by the shore.
She’d never seen a salamander that big. Frowning, she looked back at the tree ferns. A wind rose, stirring the woods, and a strange whispering filled the air, like the voices of a thousand lost souls. “Shurrrrr,” the wind spoke to her. “Shurrrrr.”
Instantly, Dawn’s mind cleared and she remembered the Keeper. She felt a chill. What was going on?
She reached up and felt her ears. The headset was gone. Or was it really? She hesitated, recalling the alien chair and monolith in the little room. Was this actually virtual reality? At this moment, was a replica of an ancient Martian forest being beamed into her mind?
Dawn studied the abundant landscape. What had the Keeper said? You’re going home.
But how? Thoroughly confused, she stared at the sky. She took in another lungful of the aromatic air, then exhaled. The Sun was pretty high, its light filtering through the swaying trees. She squinted at the sunshine and realized she could be standing on Earth – the intensity of the Sun from it was double that of Mars – and this seemed about right. If she was standing on the Earth, how had she gotten back?
She massaged her sore elbow, considering things further. Hours from now would the Martian moons Phobos and Deimos begin their movements across the nighttime sky, or would she look up and find Earth's solitary Moon? She gazed at the sky again, but the trees blocked much of her view.
Focusing on the lovely blooms of a magnolia, she inhaled again, feeling the richness of the air, smelling the sweetness of the flowers. This was way beyond current human VR technology. No one had been able to come up with aromas like this. And the moist air seemed more complex, as if the mixture of atmospheric gases were somehow different, thicker.
Dawn jumped when a sharp, birdlike screech ruptured the air, followed by a cluster of strange clicking noises. She’d never heard anything like them before.
She stood very still, her heart thumping as she listened and considered the possibilities. What if she had actually been transported back to ancient Earth? Where was the Keeper now? Was he going to help her, or just watch her?
A surge of fear swept over her and she fought against it. She had to think and plan. She looked down at herself. Still dressed in her T-shirt and shorts, she had no survival gear. Even her Google glasses were missing. She felt naked and vulnerable .
Then she remembered her communicator. She tugged at its chain, pulling it from beneath her shirt, then hit the power icon, attempting to establish a com-link with someone in the ground crew, or Jean-Michel.
It suddenly hit her; she could have used it when she was being held prisoner in the Keeper’s chair. What had she been thinking? Why hadn't she called her crewmates and told them she was alive? Dumb ass, she railed at herself.
She tried everyone, but her communicator was silent. No connection. No Gus. No Jean-Michel. Nobody.
Perhaps this was Earth, after all, and her crewmates were still on Mars. She attempted to link up with Mission Control next, but again nothing happened. Then she tried to find her location with GPS, but got a blank screen.
She played around for a while, hoping at the very least she could find someone on the Web, but the only things she could retrieve were recorded programs and personal files. With a sigh, she brought up the file containing her photos, flipping through the relics of her life, until she found her favorite picture of Wendy and Peter. Her terriers stared back at her, their little brown eyes so full of inquisitiveness. Where were they now? More importantly, where was she?
For the first time in her life, she felt completely alone, cut off from everything and everyone.
She gazed at the sky and found her voice, “Hey, Keeper, what gives? Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
There was no answer, just the clicks and birdlike chattering she’d heard before. Resolving to make the best of it, she knew she couldn’t let herself fall apart. She decided to set up a com-link with the computer chips in her “trekkers,” high-tech space shoes that doubled as hiking boots. The link would monitor the distance she’d travel that day.
She took a last look around and decided to travel west, toward the sun. Her emotions still hovered between fear and confusion, but she pushed them out of her mind. The first thing she needed to do was find a source of clean water.
Dawn set off, hiking through the forest until the trees gave way to a clearing, with wooded hills in the distance. She took a readout, learning she had gone about a kilometer. She’d kept a decent pace, but she also reminded herself time was of the essence; the air had grown noticeably warmer and she was getting thirstier by the minute.
She studied the clearing: brackish pools surrounded by reeds, a boggy wetland. She didn’t want her trekkers mucked-up and uncomfortable, so she skirted the bog and headed for higher ground. There had to be a creek somewhere nearby. After all, water flowed downhill. And no matter where the Keeper had sent her – even if she’d landed on the other side of the universe – the force of gravity would still prevail.
Dawn trudged onward, her breath coming in gasps when she reached the top of the hill. The environment was different here, a lush conifer forest. It was cooler, too, with a welcoming breeze. She gauged her surroundings and recognized pines, yews, and firs towering over shadowy thickets of smaller plants, including cedarlike bushes, lacy ferns, and an assortment of flowering shrubs.
Suddenly, she caught a whiff of vanilla. Studying the tallest trees, she realized they looked and smelled like Ponderosa pines. Her gaze veered to a clump of green and gold leaves hanging from a branch. The sides were pointy, familiar and welcoming. Holly, huh? Well, at least it looks more and more like I’m back on Earth. Not much different from Arizona high country.
Her thoughts were broken by deep rumbling in the ground, a massive vibration. Arizona wasn’t earthquake country, but she’d actually been in California during a trembler, so she recognized the feeling. Her first inclination was to turn and run, b
ut then the shrubbery nearby started to rustle and shake. This was no earthquake!
In desperation, Dawn glanced around and spotted a huge pine with thick, protruding limbs. She scrambled up the branches and then grabbed hold of the tree trunk. The rumbling continued like distant thunder, passing all the way up through the pine. Holding on, Dawn watched in shock as hundreds of large creatures burst from the thicket. They moved on all fours, with their thick, rigid tails thrust out behind them, swarming noisily beneath the trees. They had muscular limbs and flat heads, with broad bills.
Duckbills! she thought, not believing her eyes. Holy crap, it’s a herd of duck-billed dinosaurs!
As Dawn watched, her amazement increased. Their bills were much more parrotlike than she’d seen in artists’ renditions. And their hides were tough and bumpy, their teal green and dark gray scales forming striped patterns running from their backs down to their sides. They also had distinctive whirls of crimson shaped somewhat like fat apostrophes on the larger scales beneath their eyes. She thought back to the living reptiles she’d seen; although the duckbills’ skin looked about as rough as alligators, it was more colorful, like the polychrome patterns on lizards or garter snakes.
Dragon Dawn (Dinosaurian Time Travel) Page 14