by Lorijo Metz
Now, I must confess, though thoroughly intrigued by “project C”, I trust when you arrive that you will be good enough to shed some light on the project. Until then…
Below are the directions you requested as well as the location you will find me at 4:00 pm the day of your arrival. I am quite famous for my scenic shortcuts, and this one should cut at least ten minutes off your travel time while affording you a wonderful view of the mountains surrounding our little valley.
As requested, I am keeping “mum” about your upcoming visit.
Confidentially yours,
James Wu
SPHAERA TECHNOLOGIES
Revolvos studied the directions, then returned the note to his pocket. Though eccentric, James Wu was an undeniable genius. More important, he’d married Revolvos’ great granddaughter, Georgianna René. Wu was one-in-a-million, and his marriage to Georgianna was most fortuitous. Without that connection, Revolvos might never have found a human capable of completing his project.
Ah yes, Georgianna… Revolvos frowned, remembering a less fortuitous event: the car accident that killed Georgianna and left her young daughter paralyzed.
Blast it! Where is Roony? Doesn’t he realize how precious time is?
Revolvos shook his head. Of course he didn’t. Roony would need to have lived at least three hundred years to comprehend that amount of regret. For all the time wasted, for all the people he had never had time to know. For all of it—all three hundred plus loonocks of it coming so quickly to a close.
Revolvos pulled out his phone, clicked open the browser and stared at the photo below the webline: Avondale Warriors Favored to Win Conference. It was a photo of the Warrior’s star player. Each time Revolvos looked at it…each time he saw the wild, curly red hair; the strong, yet graceful aquiline nose; and the emerald green eyes that, though strikingly Asian, reminded him of her—he had to remind himself it wasn’t Julianne. It was their great-great granddaughter, McKenzie. Who, like her mother, Georgianna, he’d never met.
He and Julianne had had only one child, a girl, who in turn had produced one child, a girl, and so on—no more than one child per generation, all very Circanthian-like. Fortunately, each child was human-like in appearance (legs being a dominant trait) and life expectancy. Moreover, none of them had shown even the slightest ability to particle-weave, though Revolvos had never tested this. As blending with society was not an issue, Julianne and Revolvos had chosen to keep his alien origin a secret from the family. Since the one thing he could not hide was his extended lifespan, shortly after Julianne’s death, Revolvos disappeared by faking his own death. Leaving behind the name of Anderson, he returned to using his own name, Revolvos, and after earning several scientific degrees along the way, the title of Professor.
Revolvos noticed his heart racing and took several deep breaths. Decades on Earth had weakened him not only physically, but also mentally. Lately, it seemed, his emotions were dangerously close to the surface. For though his purpose in traveling to America was to meet with James Wu, for some human-like, certainly irrational reason, he hoped to meet McKenzie. Then there was that blasted dream. It had to be a dream. After all this time—Bewfordios Provost, here on Earth?
“Professor!”
“Coming, my good man.”
Minutes later they were off to visit SPHAERA TECHNOLOGIES, the newest and one of several American Companies he owned—all under yet another pseudonym, Professor R.
Revolvos stared out the window, half lost in thought, half drinking in the sites and sounds of everything around him, eager and anxious like a soldier returning from war, but afraid to go home.
The fact that SPHAERA TECHNOLOGIES had produced some of the most innovative, handicapable accessories of the last ten years was reason enough for its absentee owner to return for a closer inspection. However, Revolvos had no intention of touring his company or, for that matter, making his presence known.
Concentric help me, am I too old for this? If only he could be certain he’d die before Roony and then be buried next to Julianne. But then, I would never see the Lapis Sea again…or Pietas. My dear, dear friend, Pietas!
“Where are you Professor?”
Revolvos tried to mask his growing anxiety. “Beside you, Roony, have you gone blind?”
“No Professor.” Roony pointed to his head. “Where are you in here?”
Revolvos glanced over at his friend. Joe Roony was a deceivingly simple man. He was already a millionaire many times over due to shrewd investing of the outrageously large salary Revolvos paid him, and he’d barely spent a penny of it. “Whatever do you mean?”
“You are planning something. I know you too well. This trip—BIG SECRET. Something going on and you not tell Roony what it is. So, Roony thinks, must be big.”
Revolvos had dreaded this moment. “Very well,” he said, “you deserve to know. It is big. Very big—I hope. I am returning home to Circanthos.”
The van swerved right then left.
“And I’d like to arrive in one piece!”
Roony steered the van on course again. “How you go back to dat planet?”
“The same way I arrived, old chap—with the help of a cortext. I’ve spent the last fifteen years trying to recall how I built the blasted device in the first place. It was too great of a risk back when I had Julianne, and then I had my grandchildren to watch over, even if from afar; but lately…well, lately it seems they’re doing quite well without me.”
Roony remained silent; staring straight ahead as if navigating a vehicle was all he could manage.
“Roony, old friend. As far as my family is concerned, I passed away years ago. You are the only family I have left, and if you don’t mind me saying so, your time on this planet is limited.”
“I going wit’ da Professor?”
“No, Roony, you’re going to die.”
“I see, so now de true alien comes out.”
“Of old age, my dear friend. Die of old age. And, I might add, stinking rich. I’m leaving you all the companies in England, as well as those in Mumbai.”
Roony shook his head and heaved an exaggerated sigh of disgust, “Just what an old dead man needs, more work.”
Revolvos smiled. He’d expected such a response. “The Wu family will receive ownership of all the American Companies.”
“Roony will go wit’ the Professor.”
Revolvos had known Roony would want to accompany him, but it wasn’t possible. More than that, it wasn’t fair. “No, Roony, I don’t even know whether I have been able to recreate the cortext correctly. Besides, I’ve performed very little particle-weaving in the last few decades. There’s a good chance I’ll end up weaving myself right into that blasted blazing hot sun of yours.”
“On second thought,” Roony said. “I stay here.”
“Good idea. Now, how long until we reach Avondale?”
“One hour.”
“Perfect. I’m going to take a nap.” Revolvos leaned his head against the window. “Wake me when we’re five minutes away.”
“Pleasant dreams, old alien.”
“Watch out for wild broshbonits,” murmured Revolvos.
“Broshbonits?” mumbled Roony. “Must be American.”
Chapter 18
FBI TRANSCRIPT 21203
Agent Wink Krumm and Principal B.R. Provost
Thursday, May 7th
KRUMM: Bewfordios…what would be the origin of that name?
PROVOST: Swedish…though I can’t be sure. My parents were artists—need I say more?
KRUMM: And isn’t it interesting your middle name, Revolvos; also highly unusual, belongs to the very man, excuse me, the very being I first saw you with. Also the owner of Sphaera Technologies.
PROVOST: You mean Joe Roony. A good friend of mine. Joe is owner of Sphaera Technologies.
KRUMM: Before they were so…conveniently removed, I glanced over copies of certain company documents, Sphaera Technologies among them, belonging to Professor R. All located in the suitcase
—also conveniently removed—of one, Professor Revolvos.
PROVOST: I can’t speak for what you think you saw.
KRUMM: Right. Unfortunately, as the evidence was removed, neither can I.
PROVOST: Let me ask you this: has it ever occurred to you that Joe Roony—Professor Joe Roony, I might add—also goes by the name of Professor R.?
***
IS THAT A PINICOLIS IN YOUR POCKET?
Monday, March 16th
The moment McKenzie’s head hit the pillow she was wide-awake. Pietas had outfitted the small, cave-like room she called home with two cots particle-woven from the walls. After a lengthy description from Hayes, she added two soft pillows and downy comforters.
Staring into the darkness, McKenzie found herself thinking about the poonchi carvings decorating the entrance to Pietas’ home, and smiled; then about Pietas’ wild, curly gray hair, and laughed. No one ever writes stories about senior citizen age aliens, she thought, and then sighed. Senior citizens made her think of Grandma Mir, who would be so worried, and her dad—Cripes, he must be a mess. She quickly pushed the thought from her mind. There was nothing she could do and so much she still had to find out. She began making a mental list of everything Pietas had told them on the way to the Gathering, fitting the facts together like a puzzle—yet missing several key pieces.
“Pietas?” McKenzie propped herself up on her elbow. “Pietas?” And then said a bit louder, “Are you awake?”
“Yip, yip, yip!”
“She is now,” moaned Hayes, tossing Charlie off his cot.
Light from Cera san streamed in creating a glittering pool on the black, gem-encrusted floor by the entrance.
Charlie rolled across the room and began sniffing McKenzie’s chair. Pleased he was showing some interest, she leaned over to pet him, but Charlie scooted away, gave three more “yips,” and scampered out of the cave.
“What did you do to him?” said Hayes, his annoyingly positive attitude not quite so upbeat.
“The poonchi is perfectly capable of taking care of himself,” Pietas said from the back of the cave.
“You’re awake.”
“She’s awake and I’m going to sleep,” Hayes mumbled. “Space travel is exhausting.”
“I’m sorry I woke you, Pietas.”
“If I had been asleep, it would have taken more than a few “yips” to rouse me.” Pietas’ head was suddenly visible. Surrounded by light, it appeared to be floating, bodiless, in the darkness. “What can I do for you?”
“The island where you found that book, the Circolar…what is it like?”
“The Isle of Iciis is very cold.” Pietas rolled closer. “It sits directly in the path of our dark moon, seeing little light from either san. As far as we know it is, and always has been, with one exception, uninhabitable.”
“And the exception?”
“The beings who created the Circolar must have inhabited Iciis, at least for a short time.”
Charlie zoomed back into the cave, jumped onto Hayes’ cot and curled up next to his shoulder. “Great!” muttered Hayes. “Now he smells.”
“You said something about a key?”
“My dear and brilliant friend, Petré Revolvos, recognized what others had not; the carvings on the cave wall were the key for decoding the Circolar.”
“Hieroglyphics,” murmured Hayes.
“I thought you were going to sleep.”
“You know about the codes?” said Pietas.
“He’s guessing.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You can’t read hieroglyphics.” He can’t, thought McKenzie, feeling strangely jealous. Hayes was picking up Circanthian as if it were as simple as Pig Latin. But he couldn’t know hieroglyphics. He just couldn’t.
Hayes sat up. “On the cover of that book there were hieroglyphics. I’m not sure, but it may have been something about book and life. I sort of… borrowed this book on Egyptian hieroglyphics from the school library for a while—which, I might add has been totally missing since I was forced to return it by that nosey Mrs. Boncher.
McKenzie realized her mouth was hanging open. She closed it. Hayes could read hieroglyphics. Of course, she never thought he was stupid…but he wasn’t in advanced classes. In fact, he was usually in the Principal’s office. “I can barely remember what the cover looks like.”
“That’s because you’re too busy thinking. I notice things. And now, you’ll notice, I’m going back to sleep.” And with that, Hayes laid down.
Pietas looked from one to the other, then nodded as if filing the information away for later. “To continue…Petré was a bit of a troublemaker. His experiments with long-range space travel, considered ‘too risky’ by the majority of Circanthians, forced him to move his laboratory to a cave in the Cocombaca Forest.”
“Isn’t that Tsendi territory? I thought Tsendi hated Circanthians.”
“Dear me, such a strong word!”
Once again, McKenzie had said something wrong. “I’m sorry—”
“No, it’s simply…” Pietas’ voice trailed off. “Remind me to discuss emotions with you later.”
Hayes laughed. “And remind me to be there for that conversation. McKenzie Wu discussing emotions.”
“Short of particle-weaving,” Pietas continued, “the only way to enter that cave is by the Lapis Sea. The Tsendi are deathly afraid of it. They believe the Creator will eat them or some such thing.”
“So, Tsendi can’t particle-weave. They can’t swim.” McKenzie sat up, propping the pillow behind her. “And the cave was perfect for your friend’s experiments. Since he could now decode the book, he was able to read the instructions for building the machine that allows you to travel through time and space.”
“The Cortext. Correct.”
McKenzie glanced at Hayes. He and Charlie were having a grand old time wrestling together.
“Just Hayes, I might warn you, poonchi have very sharp—”
“OUCH!” Charlie went flying across the room, bounced a couple of times and rolled whimpering to the back of the cave.
McKenzie and Pietas laughed. Hayes buried his head under the covers and pretended to go back to sleep. Somewhere outside the cave, under the cool Cera san, an animal howled. McKenzie could almost believe they were back on Earth. It sounded so familiar, so earth-like.
Pietas rolled closer and he body came into view. It was the first time since their arrival it occurred to McKenzie how alien Circanthians were. Imagine rolling rather than walking. Then again, she could.
“Revolvos was brilliant but terribly impatient. Had he finished translating the Circolar and read the prophecy before building the cortext, he never would have…” She shook her head. “But no, there is a reason for even the most unreasonable event, and I must believe whoever created the Circolar knew it would initiate events that would connect our two planets. Wells’ arrival, Petré’s disappearance and you, McKenzie.”
“Hello!”
“My, my. Of course, you too, Just Hayes.”
McKenzie was still puzzled about something. “Wells traveled here. We traveled here. Principal Provost is on Earth. Where did your friend, Revolvos, go?”
“Earth, we assume. Which is why we sent Bewfordios there. The Circolar contains several references to another planet much like our own, but in a star system many loonocks away. A system with several planets but only one san—or sun, as you call it—whereas our system has several sans, but only one planet.”
“But there are probably zillions of solar systems that have only one sun.”
“Ahhhh, so you have traveled to them?”
“No. I just know. Or, our scientists know. It’s one of those facts you learn in school.”
“School?”
“A place where you go to learn about things,” said McKenzie.
“And meet girls,” added Hayes.
“Interesting…” said Pietas. “Nevertheless, there are other particulars in the Circolar; detailed characteristics that would not like
ly occur in exactly the same way on any two planets. Certain land formations, descriptions of what you call flora and fauna and, in particular, details of two inhabited locations.”
“Because in order to particle-weave a portal he had to be able to visualize his destination.” McKenzie frowned. “But I didn’t visualize this planet. I just opened the portal and—here we are.”
“The portal was already open,” said Pietas. “You activated a pinicolis.”
“A what?”
“A sort of doorstop which allows the portal to remain open for the return trip. While the cortext enables us to particle-weave the portal, it always remains behind. Had Revolvos continued translating the Circolar, he would have known about the pinicolis and thus been able to return. He did not. Luckily, Bewfordios Provost did. He built the pinicolis you accessed. After which, there was only one place you could end up—here.”
“What’s a pinicolis look like?” asked Hayes, sounding wide-awake again.
“Well, dear me!” Pietas exclaimed. “It looks exactly like that.”
Hayes was holding a small, flat, square object. It was dark, so McKenzie couldn’t tell what color it was, but as she watched Hayes twisting it this way and that, it shimmered. “Where did you get that?” She squinted to see it better. It was—it couldn’t be—the shimmering tile from the box in Principal Provost’s office. Only it was solid, it was real and, somehow, Hayes was holding it.
“It was on the floor of that cave. I picked it up and put it in my pocket. Guess I forgot about it.”
“FORGOT ABOUT IT!” McKenzie wanted to fly across the room and shake Hayes in case anything else important fell out of his pockets.
“One never knows when it might come in useful,” said Pietas. “Hold on to it.”
“I can’t…geezits!” McKenzie shook her head. “I can’t believe he forgot about it—in his pocket, of all places.”
“By the way,” Hayes asked, “what does that cortext thingy look like?”