by Greg Dragon
~ * ~ * ~
“It’s been several months, Rafian. Can we finally have that talk?”
It was Camille who entered his office wearing a beautiful white frock. Her hair was pulled back tight into a bun adorned with sparkling crystals that was set off by the tiny necklace he had given her back when they were on Helysian. It seemed that she had learned a thing or two from Marian about Tyheran fashion. Her entire outfit rang familiar and this was not lost on him.
She had been trying to have this chat with him for many weeks, and he had managed to slip away from her every time. Now she had him cornered and alone and she was absolutely beautiful.
“Maker, Cammy, what are you trying to do to me?” he said under his breath. He rubbed his forehead desperately, as if doing so could reverse the fateful trip to Tyhera that had made him swear himself to another woman.
His mind was tortured with guilt, and he hadn’t found a way to deal with it. On one hand, he felt as if the fault was not his own, but another part of him scolded himself for not finding some way to remember.
Rising to his feet, he crossed the stark white room and held her. She put her head on his shoulder, and her slender figure made him excited.
“OVO, activate locks,” he announced into the air. “Ambient lights, lounge motif, and status lockdown.” The room dimmed, and the desk descended into the floor. The lights flickered as images of a couch, ottoman, holo-projector, and plants materialized and then became solid. The white room had become crimson, and Camille watched it happen over Rafian’s shoulder and could not hide the astonishment in her voice.
“I didn’t know that rooms could do this!” she said incredulously. Rafian didn’t seem to hear her as he walked her to the couch and began to kiss her longingly.
“Marian does not yet know our way with this, Rafian,” she said as she held him away from her, staring into his eyes.
What he read in those eyes spoke differently, however, and he slipped between her arms and laid her down as he continued to work on her dress, jewelry, and Jalakian-styled boots. It was a lengthy session, that afternoon in his office, tender and passionate to make up for the years that they had been apart.
As they lay on the couch they spoke of the past but when they spoke of the future, they were at a loss. “I cannot go back on my vows and leave Marian, Cammy. It will be my lifelong struggle, but a man who breaks vows is not the kind of man I want to be.”
“What do you think we just did, Rafian? Was that staying loyal to the woman you love?”
Rafian couldn’t answer since he was already burning up inside. The thought of the disappointment inside of Marian’s eyes put a knot in his stomach that burned like fire.
“She will kill me when she finds out,” he said finally, and Camille sat up and nudged him aggressively.
“What do you mean, when she finds out? She isn’t a thyping jumper. She’s a sweet girl but she’s really into all of that Tyheran warrior stuff, Rafian. She would kill you and then she’d probably kill herself.”
Rafian knew that Camille was right but the guilt was already making him sick. “You don’t understand, Cammy. I cannot lie to my wife.”
Camille YAN lay back on the soft couch, playing with her necklace a bit. Her hair was all over the place, and the crystals that had decorated it were all over the floor.
“Marian and I had a long talk, Rafian. We both love you immensely. She even attempted to back down so that you could divorce and I could be yours again.”
Rafian sat up, interested and a bit frightened as to the resolution that both women had come to regarding him. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt or upset Marian, because his feelings for her were still fresh—though his love for Camille was no different.
“I told her that I am a jumper and that we weren’t allowed to have the type of love that she has with you.” She trailed off a bit, as if she didn’t like to hear what her lips were now saying. “I told her that jumpers do not belong to anybody, Raf. You don’t belong to her, and I don’t belong to you. We have no connections, which of course we actually do—I can’t just very well stop loving you, can I? But formal relationships? None of it is for us to have. You made THAT oath before you made the one to her. Remember? Sure, it’s all a big pile of schtill, but that’s our reality in this place.”
Rafian tried to imagine what would have gone through Marian’s head upon hearing it. On Tyhera, the way of their world was for one man to have one partner. Any change to this rule was seen as perversion, and people would look down on couples who condoned cheating.
“Would it be so selfish if I took you to the crystal room and jumped away to one of the remote moons of Oclus? Because the world is such a confusing mess right now that I would really do it if you told me that I should. I will always love you, Cammy.”
He said it in a way that people say before taking poison or jumping off of a structure to their death. His voice had a frightening finality to it that set Camille back in wonderment at his intent, but he wasn’t doing anything but sitting up with a hand caressing her upper thigh.
Camille YAN stood up, straightened her dress, and dusted herself off. She tried her best to reset her hair, and walked out of the office without saying anything more.
Rafian was in hell. The sex had awakened feelings for Camille within him that he had long suppressed. That night, he entered the apartment he shared with his wife to find her sitting on their bed next to the fireplace waiting for him. She wore green, a color that looked so good on her brown skin that it made her even more beautiful—as if that were possible.
“I slept with Camille today, Rhee. I went against my promise to never hurt you and I—” He shut his mouth and stared at her, ready to accept the punishment that he felt he deserved.
The Tyheran beauty kept staring without blinking, so Rafian kept talking.
“We have different relationships here. It’s this place; it—” He sighed audibly. “We are not supposed to have attachments, and I slipped up. I went right back to—”
Marian tore off the ring and threw it so hard at him he could barely afford the time to step out of the way and catch it midflight. His training would not allow his reflexes to lie dormant when a precious object like Marian’s wedding band was flying towards a wall.
“I’m sorry, Rhee.” He tried to reason with her, but her blood was boiling and she seethed. Marian’s temper was never something easily cooled, and Rafian knew it was about to get ugly. She powered on the las-sword that lay near the bed and rose to her knees, the blade humming to life in front of her.
Rafian knelt on the floor and exposed his neck, then spoke slowly under his breath. “Mera ku gol, senus amu showel Rafian.” It was the final words that Mera Ku monks would utter if they were lucky enough to see death face to face. Its meaning was simple: “Take your son Rafian into your arms with honor.”
It seemed like an hour had passed while Marian struggled with herself over whether to kill him. She could lop off her husband’s head or accept his perverse jumper organization with their casual sex and brainwashing.
Her head cooled as she decided, and she suddenly felt sorry for him. In the months that had passed with them as husband and wife, he had told her about his history and his wonderful career that had ended up here. He was a man who knew only tragedy, and even now, she knew that taking his head would grant him a peace that he had never known throughout his life.
She turned off his sword and relaxed her shoulders, then placed it back into the scabbard that leaned against their bed.
“What sort of wife threatens to kill her husband?” she asked as she joined him on the floor. Rafian got up off his knees to hold her and stroke her hair, and they cried together for a very long time that night.
Memory 22 | Guidance of Gods
Many things crossed Rafian’s mind as he watched the large ship descend upon the temple. It was all black against the beautiful orange sky of Virulia, the planet that was home to their jumper temple.
&nbs
p; It was on an inquiry from Tayden that he had thought to look outside. Apparently, the ship had always been in orbit, but due to their limited training on the outside world and the fact that they were never allowed out at night, he had not seen the blinking lights and energy that radiated off of the vessel.
The air was breathable but thick, so they wore their 3B masks and stayed together, remarking on who their watchers were and why they were descending to greet them. Rafian thought the old master Arn had found a way to signal for help, so he placed fifty jumpers on the exterior to fire on their guests if things got out of hand.
He closed his eyes and tried to feel out the ship, but he could not feel anything but the warm air against his face and the hilt of Marian’s sword brushing against his hand. The ship landed in front of the castle-like temple, and a doorway materialized, as if drawn by an invisible hand.
From the doorway floated three beings whose alien race was not one that Rafian or his comrades had seen before. Their eyes were large but they had no other facial features. Their skin was a royal blue color, and a large cyan stripe ran down the center of their faces.
They were dressed in long robes that stayed rigid even in the wind. The trio floated close to the group of jumpers, and lights began to dance across their foreheads as they clasped their hands in what appeared to be telekinetic communication.
“OK, everyone, please go inside and wait,” Rafian said softly as he sensed that the beings were there to see him. Marian began to argue, but he spoke to her in Tyheran, asking her to be a soldier in this instance instead of his wife. Once he was alone, the alien triad motioned towards their ship. Rafian accepted and began his descent towards them.
The jumper temple sat on top of a rugged cliff, but the planet’s gravity was extremely limited, and it allowed for large jumps, falls from tall heights, and stunts that couldn’t be done on planets like Vestalia.
Rafian jumped from the craggy cliff and glided towards the ship’s entrance, ignoring all the chatter that came at him through his helmet from the people who loved him. Once he made it to the floor of the valley he spoke into his communication device.
“Can’t really tell you why I know this, but this meeting is important,” he said. “If I do not exit this ship in three hours, I want you all to jump home to your ships and tell the commanders there what occurred. We are all brothers and sisters in this organization, and I need you to trust me and obey my instructions. Commander Tayden Lark will be the new leader if I happen to die. She will know what to do to keep us going, to make the jumpers great again.”
He silenced his comm and walked towards the ship, trying to decipher how he would open its invisible door. The trio that had summoned him had come to his side, and he saw for the first time just how tall they were. Each of them stood eight feet tall, and they made a strange, harmonious melody when they got close to him.
He felt himself smiling; the melody was so soothing, and it was unlike any music he had ever heard before. His mind began to drift and his body felt limp, and he involuntarily walked forward and opened the ship’s door.
When his thoughts had been silenced and his body made ready for the ship’s interior, Rafian awoke to find himself seated in an egg-shaped seat. The room around him was a dome with pearly white walls that appeared similar to the ones he had seen the first time he met Arn.
Almost instantly, a pretty blue Cel-toc appeared next to him and began checking his vitals to make sure he had adjusted well. Seeing the Cel-toc brought up emotions he had never experienced before. He was frightened of it, angry, and heartbroken. It was a wash of emotions that drained him physically and made him want to destroy it.
Try as he might, however, Rafian was unable to move or control his body. That in itself was frightening, as his mask and gloves had been removed.
The Cel-toc stood in front of him after completing her checkup, and her visage changed to one that was very much like the aliens that had invited him there.
“Rafian VCA!” The voice was synthesized, which made sense if the aliens were unable to speak. It seemed that they used Cel-tocs to communicate with humans, which made him think that revealing their true appearance to him would have been a sign of great respect.
“We have watched your career and ascent with admiration. We are Neeraki Sentients, and we travel from a faraway place. Four hundred years have passed as we watched your race teeter on the precipice of extinction. You are one of many hopefuls for your race, Rafian, but we choose you to be the guardian of the crystals that we have allowed Anstractor to possess.”
The Cel-toc grew silent, and Rafian found that he could once again control his mouth. He tested this by moving his tongue to lick his lips and mouth silent words into the air.
“Are you gods?” he managed to ask. “Are you beings that are bigger than this galaxy—the universe even? And is this all a game to you?”
Why would I be chosen? he wondered. His career was commendable, yes, but so were the careers of people like Tayden, Vallen, Camille, and even the Helysian’s own commander. Why him, and why now? If his introduction to warp crystals and the jumper fellowship was the extra to put him over, then why not choose Camille or Tayden to be this guardian of the crystals?
The Cel-toc came to life again, this time with a smile on her face. Rafian knew it was an attempt to relax him but before she could speak, he started in again.
“Those of you who watch, do you not realize that this is one of the disgusting androids that killed my friends on Genese and tortured me as a boy? Did you pick this thing as your avatar to torment me, or is it mere ignorance that you put a former prisoner in front of his captor?”
The Cel-toc put a finger to her lips and began talking as if nothing he said had gotten through to the aliens. “Our plan is above you; too large for you to fathom and too complex for your organic brain to comprehend. We are above games, but Anstractor and specifically Vestalia is important to us.
“We chose you to be the one to represent our philosophy to the human race. The Geralos are not to take Anstractor, and they are not to get a hold of the warp crystals or anything related to them in any form. You are to move your people, destroy this temple, and secure the knowledge so that the crystals are never compromised.”
“What if I were to refuse you?” Rafian asked.
“You are not permitted to refuse us. If you let your hubris allow you to make a series of decisions that compromises us, then we would be forced to destroy the crystals and the planets that are a threat to our race. This would mean that Anstractor would be removed. It is here that the taint resides. It is here that the crystals were lent to humans in order to right the genetic mistake that is the Geralos.”
Rafian was going over it in his head, and he finally understood. The planet Geral had once been an abandoned husk of nothing for millions of years, but it had developed life after a time, and that life became the vicious lizards that had taken their aggressive conquering to the other planets.
He had read about the Makers when he was a cadet. They were mythic beings that came from a distant galaxy that held a million suns and a solitary planet. The Makers were the ones who gave technology, rewards, and charity to ancient civilizations when they risked genocide or irrecoverable collapse. Their primary goal was balance, though their strange laws disallowed them from directly assisting anyone.
He couldn’t believe that he was meeting them, let alone talking to them. They were gods, as much as gods are described, and they had chosen him to do the very thing he had always aimed to do in the first place.
“What would you have me do outside of what has been asked of me already?”
“We have given you what you need, young Rafian. The gift we give you is an understanding of the crystals and the power that they hold. You do not have to take them with you when you jump—this is one of many misunderstandings. You simply have to know when it is time to return and will yourself back with all of your heart. The technology is beyond your understanding, and it is
n’t covered in any of your recorded archives or people.
“Arn Stryker was charged with this same task that we are giving you, but he let the power consume him into worthlessness. You killed him once. When you return, you are to remove the gift of resurrection from him and end his life permanently. We will not meet you again in this lifetime, Rafian, just as we did not seek out Arn for the many years that he has led this order.
“You asked about the android that imprisoned you as a boy, but we bring her here to clear the distractions and remind you of your history. Everything you love has been taken by the Geralos, and your home planet along with your race is almost lost to them. What will you do, Rafian? What will you do in this last hour of your galaxy?”
Rafian thought about the question, and it made him sick that he had allowed Tyhera’s situation to distract him from his goals. “I’ll tell you what I will do. I will lead my people to the destruction of the Geralese horde.”
They kept him there for a span of a month after allowing him to radio the temple to let them know that he would be fine. When Rafian VCA emerged again, it was on a dead, cloudless night. He was the same man who had entered a month past, but he was a man who could now see the entire forest of life beyond the large trees that stood in his way.
When he had walked a few yards from the ship, it began to rise quickly into the sky. He watched it go for a long time before setting foot towards the temple to carry out the instructions he had for his lieutenants. It would be a different set of missions for his jumpers, and he would have to retrain them properly. No matter how long this all would take, he was happy that for the first time in his life, fate was on his side.