Read The Aurora (Aurora Saga, Book 1) Online

Authors: Adrian Fulcher

Tags: #Science Fiction

The Aurora (Aurora Saga, Book 1) (4 page)

Chapter Four

The year 2005 arrived. Londuo knew this was the year Lex, Carol and James arrived on Earth and eventually settled in a remote cottage in Brampton, near to where she now lived. Being there made her feel still very much in love with him and she often thought of him while wandering around the countryside of Brampton, trying to imagine what sort of life he had there.

One day, whilst driving home, she thought of James and distracted, missed her turning and ended up driving down a narrow lane. Then, suddenly her attention was drawn to a ‘for sale’ sign pointing to a cottage. James had told her all about the house where he had lived, and from a distance that cottage looked like the one he had described to her. She slowed the car.

It couldn’t be, could it?
She looked at a large oak tree in front of the house.
This has to be it.
She felt excited.
It’s fate I came this way. I could buy it. Maybe rebuild it and live there.

The day after, she went straight to the estate agent where the cottage was for sale, but to her disappointment the advertisement about the cottage in the window had a ‘sold’ notice on it.
Someone’s already bought it,
she thought.
So much for fate; it looks like I’m too late.
She felt deflated and started to walk down the road, but then a terrible thought crossed her mind.
This was about the same time that Lex bought the cottage. I’m back in 2005 and everything should be different now if we changed the timeline. What is the chance that in two different timelines, this run-down cottage is sold in the same year? What a coincidence!
Londuo suddenly stopped and looked back towards the estate agent.
Coincidence! No, it can’t be a coincidence.
She turned back.
I have to know who bought it. What if it was Lex?

With much anxiety she entered the estate agent.

‘Can I help you?’ a young man asked, noticing Londuo looking at the adverts of cottages.

‘Yes; has the run-down cottage up on the hill been sold?’ she replied.

Her voice, now with an American accent, was muffled by the mask over her nose and mouth. She pointed to the brochure.

‘Yes, amazingly it has,’ he said. ‘I have to say it has been for sale many years now and needs a lot of work, but someone likes it. Strange you should be interested in it now; I only sold it yesterday! We have another one coming on to the market next week. I can show you that if you want.’

Londuo could see he was slightly uneasy, often looking at her face mask. By now she was used to this reaction, even off-hand comments about it. She no longer gave excuses for her appearance; people could decide the reason for themselves.

‘Can you tell me who bought it?’ she asked him.

‘I’m sorry, I’m not allowed to say,’ he replied. ‘You could go up there and meet the new owners.’

‘No, I can’t. Please, I need to know who bought it,’ Londuo said, pleading with him.

‘Why would you want to know that?’

‘Because the future depends on it... Look, if I give you a name, could you answer me with a yes or no?’

‘Okay,’ he replied. ‘No harm in that. What’s the name?’

Londuo composed herself.

‘Was it bought by Lex Brasdoi?’

‘No, it wasn’t. Sorry.’

Londuo felt relieved.
Thank goodness. No, but that’s his Qinant surname. Here on Earth they used an English sounding surname.

‘Wait! What about Lex Brandon?’ Londuo added quickly.

The young man smiled.

‘To that name, the answer is, yes.’

Londuo felt light-headed and her heart quickened.
No, he can’t be here. There’s no way he can be here.

‘Are you all right?’ the young man asked.

‘Yes. Yes, I’m fine.’ Londuo nodded. ‘Are you sure it was bought by Lex Brandon?’

‘Yes. What’s strange is that he wore a mask too.’

It is definitely him then and James must be here also. That means we’re at war again and nothing has changed.

‘By the way, interesting tattoo you have there,’ the young man said, pointing to her face. ‘I was thinking of having one on my arm. Did you have it done in America?’

‘Sorry, I need to go. Thank you for your time.’

‘My pleasure.’

Londuo was feeling very emotional.

‘I don’t believe it. It’s all happening again.’ she said quietly. ‘He’s here on Earth! Why is it happening again?’

I saw the Treitans’ world destroyed. Yet, we’re at war with them again. They must have survived. We failed to affect the chain of events. I have to work out what went wrong.

*****

From that moment on, Londuo took a particular interest in the lives of the Brandon family, watching them rebuild the cottage and bring up their son James. She knew already James’ future and the great danger which laid ahead for them. She had to tell him somehow.

Londuo sat in her workshop, painting a new magnogenic picture
. I know the future. I have to tell them the dangers that lie ahead. I can stop everyone being killed.

I’ll go to the cottage to talk to Lex and Carol. I’ll tell them the future.
Londuo pondered
. But the Aurora’s not finished; it’s going to be another ten years before Kalrea finishes the ship. I know Lex will die in two years’ time. I could warn him; tell him he’s going to die from a cold, but this wouldn’t help. It looks like he’s already taken precautions with the face mask, and he can’t lock himself away for the next ten years just so he can survive.
Londuo shock her head.
By the time the ship’s completed, Lex will be dead and both Carol and I will be too old to pilot the ship; our minds will be too old. That means only James can. His mind will still be very young, but I know he’ll be able to control the ship.

Then I have no choice, I’ll have to inform James of the future. There must be a way! He’s three now, so I could wait until he’s old enough; tell him then. But that means I’ve got to meet him.
Londuo’s feelings towards James were playing on her mind.
I can’t meet him. He’d be so young; I’m old. It would tear me apart and he wouldn’t know why I love him. No, I couldn’t bear that. He doesn’t know me yet. Maybe I can write a letter to explain him what will happen so that he can change the future. But what if he doesn’t believe it? I have to somehow prove I know the future; but how?

Londuo played through many scenarios in her mind.

‘My diary!’ she said out loud. ‘My diary has the future in it.’

That’s it. I’ll give him my diary. It’s from the future; that’s proof in itself.
She suddenly felt worried.
But it’s too personal.
He cannot read my diary; he’ll find out that I love him before we’ve even met. Wait, he doesn’t need to.

‘Kalrea! Kalrea is the answer.’

I need to get the diary to Kalrea. She will read it, get to know the future and advise James on what to do. I’ll instruct Kalrea not to tell James about our love.

Londuo felt very pleased with herself.
All I’ve got to do is get the diary to him at the right moment. He will have to ask Kalrea to help him to read it. But I still need to work out why the timeline wasn’t changed, what went wrong and why we didn’t wipe out the Treitans. Maybe if I give all the details I can remember to Kalrea, she’ll be able to fill in the missing pieces.

*****

Londuo never got too close to James’ family, but there was one day where, against her better judgement, she ventured to the back of their property. She noticed a scarlet aeroplane lying on the ground and picked it up. She smiled to herself and could not resist throwing it down the hillside. However, she gasped when she saw a five-year-old boy exiting the house. The aeroplane landed, just missing him. She quickly hid behind a large bush. Her heart started to race when she noticed him approaching. That boy was James, her lover, and she knew he had just lost his father the previous day.

James, don’t come up here, please,
she thought, looking for a way to escape; but it was too late. She had no choice but to talk with him for a few moments until he was distracted by his mother calling him. She quickly moved behind some trees before heading back to her car where she sat staring out of the windscreen.
He’s so young and now his father has died. I know how he’ll feel.
Londuo broke down and started to cry.
I love you, James. I’ve always loved you
.

*****

Londuo now had to wait patiently for 2019 to arrive, the year she knew that James would lose his mother and the year when his life would take a new direction. This was the right moment for her to give him the information he needed. By then he would be a young man, and she would be seventy-three years old, which is still quite young for Qinants, considering that their average life expectancy is equivalent to one hundred and two Earth years. So all she needed to do was to protect herself from any colds, which indeed she did. On 10th October 2019, the day Carol was supposed to die, Londuo was getting ready to go and visit her.

Her plan was to speak with Carol to ensure that the diary, with the information about the future, was given to James.

Londuo looked at the red data cartridge that contained her diary lying on the kitchen table.
I’ve removed my name so he won

t know whose it is.
She picked it up and held it in her hand, but began to have mixed feelings. A part of her was happy that the information in her diary would probably change the future and save millions of lives, but another part of her was beginning to feel uncomfortable about the fact that this information would change the timeline and possibly also James

and her future together. She glanced at the kitchen clock.
It

s now or never. Ten minutes; James
always
leaves the cottage at eleven to go into the village.

Londuo took a deep breath before apprehensively walking out to her black Ford Mustang.

 

Chapter Five

James hurriedly drove his Land Rover back home to his family’s small remote cottage near Brampton, where his mother lay sick. He had been in the local village for provisions, but his thoughts were never far away from her.

Carol Brandon was only sixty-two and had recently become overwhelmed by a serious illness that the doctors and specialists could not comprehend. Carol was a stubborn and reclusive person. She had ignored the medical advice to stay in hospital and even James’ protests could not stop her from discharging herself to return home. For days James tried desperately to get her to seek medical help, but to no avail. She told James that one day he would understand why.

His mother’s illness reminded James of the sad moment when he lost his father twelve years earlier, when he was only a child. Carol had told him that Lex had died of an incurable illness, and now James’ worst fear was that she was going to die too.

James turned off the narrow country lane, between the two tall stone columns capped with carved pyramids, which marked the entrance to his home. Everything seemed tranquil as he drove steadily up the long gravel driveway. The wind was calm and he could hear the water gushing in the nearby stream. The small cream cottage set between two smaller outbuildings looked softly bathed by the last rays of light of the sun setting over the Cumbrian Mountains. The bare oak tree in the centre of the courtyard ringed by fallen leaves, casted a shadow across the roof of the cottage and the hillside beyond. There was a solitary dim light shining from an upstairs window of the cottage.

As James pulled up just in front of the cottage, his attention was drawn to the far corner of one of the courtyard buildings. There, in the shade, the front of another car was just visible. He got out of the Land Rover and walked closer. It was a black convertible Ford Mustang.

James’ heart missed a beat at the thought of his mother possibly being alone with a stranger. He was now anxious and feeling guilty to have been away, even if for only thirty minutes. He wasted no more time and rushed into the cottage.

He could hear the voice of an old woman talking to his mother in her bedroom upstairs. His mother’s voice was very faint. After a few steps up the steep narrow wooden staircase to her room, the voices stopped abruptly. Suddenly the bedroom door opened and a tall figure appeared at the top of the stairs.

The woman had her back to him. All James could make out was her long silver hair, which moved gently in the draught from the door when she closed it.

‘Who are you?’ James asked, standing on the staircase.

The woman froze for a second, and then quickly covered the left-hand side of her face with a handkerchief to hide a tattoo, before turning towards him.

‘I said, who are you?’ His voice was raised.

‘James,’ she said in a concerned voice.

She stared at him, her eyes fixed on his.

James could now see her wrinkled face and light-green eyes. She looked old and appeared anxious. He suddenly felt very uncomfortable.

‘What are you doing here?’ he questioned.

‘I had to come.’ She paused for a moment. ‘I’m Lon… No, I can’t. Your mother needs you, James. I have to go… You should not have seen me,’ the old woman said in an American accent.

She quickly moved down the stairs and pushed by him; her right hand brushed his. James unexpectedly felt cold. He lifted his hand and looked at it, clenching it slowly. It was an eerie feeling, like someone had just walked over his grave.

By the time he looked back to her the door of the cottage had clicked shut. The old woman had gone. James was surprised how agile she was for her age.

Who was that?
James thought to himself and hurried up the rest of the stairs.
If she’s a friend of my mother’s, how come I’ve never seen her before?
His heart quickened when he opened the bedroom door.

Carol was in bed, propped upright by a number of pillows, exactly as he had left her. A table lamp was the only source of light on a chest of drawers next to the bed.

James moved over to the bed where he noticed a framed picture of Lex on the carpet just below his mother’s open hand. He picked it up and put it back gently on the bedside cabinet beside a face mask.

Carol’s eyes half opened. Her head turned towards him.

‘Sit—’

‘Are you all right? I was worried. I saw that woman. I was—’

‘James! Please sit, I don’t have… I don’t have much time. I have something I need, I mean, you must know,’ she said in a weakened and confused voice.

James uncomfortably perched himself on the side of the bed and took his mother’s hand.

‘I… She loves you, James,’ Carol whispered.

She dragged out a small metallic box from beneath the bed sheets.

‘Now’s the time…You don’t belong here. You must return home. Much danger!’ and she handed him the box.

‘I don’t understand. What do you mean?’

She gripped James’ hand tightly and took a deep breath. She was trying to pull together her remaining strength but was finding difficult to put a sentence together. Her brain was blanking more and more; her mind was fading in and out.

‘You…You can stop it. Change all this! James you must not start it again. Kalrea must read the diary.’

He was evidently confused by his mother’s words, but he was sure she was trying to say something important.

‘What are you trying to tell me? Who’s Kalrea? What diary?’

‘You will understand,’ Carol said, gripping his hand even more tightly and tried to raise her head from the pillow towards him. She looked very frightened. ‘James, Kalrea must read the diary....’ Carol mumbled and then stopped, her eyes closing. Her head dropped gently back onto the pillow before she exhaled for the last time.

‘Mum! Wait! Don’t die!’ James said. Tears formed in his eyes. ‘Don’t go… Don’t leave me?’ he said sadly. ‘Please! Don’t leave me.’ A tear dropped from his face onto his mother’s limp hand.

Realizing that his mother was gone, he felt a painful emptiness inside. His life seemed now to have lost its meaning. He was all alone with no one else close to comfort him.

While James was placing her hand gently onto the bed, he heard the Mustang’s engine starting and the sound of gravel beneath its wheels.

The old woman.

He rushed over to the window to see the car moving slowly out from the shade. The car stopped. The old woman looked up at him, and he caught a glimpse of her wiping a tear from her face.

Just when he was about to call out, the car sped away. James tried to catch sight of the number plate, but the dust thrown up by the wheels of the car made it impossible to see.

*****

The following three weeks seemed like an eternity to James. He had the long wait for the autopsy and the worst part for him, being all alone at the cremation. That same day, upon returning home, he set about the sad, solemn task of sprinkling Carol’s ashes over an area of ground where her husband Lex laid. It was at the rear of the cottage in an area Carol had prepared all those years ago when Lex died, on the side of a gentle hill overlooking the cottage with trees and bushes all around.

Sprinkling Carol’s ashes kept James occupied for a while, allowing him to suppress his feelings. Nothing could distract him from this task. It was not until he had finally placed some freshly cut flowers from the garden on top that he suddenly felt devoid of energy. He sat down on the hillside and stared across the valley where dark clouds were gathering.

He had sometimes hated Carol for living in isolation miles away from the nearest town. It was something he could never fully understand, because Carol had never seemed the kind of person who wanted to live alone. Carol always distanced herself from the few friends he had, making his life very difficult. But now that she was gone his resentments were mixed together with sadness for the loss of a much loved person. These feelings were tearing him apart. He was wrestling with his thoughts.

I would give anything to get her back. Anything,
he thought, staring at the cottage and rolling countryside below.
Why? Why? I don’t understand. Life’s not fair. Carol was fine five weeks ago. I can’t believe it. I just can’t believe it.
James shook his head slowly.
It’s my fault. I should have made her go to the hospital or made them come here. Why was she so stubborn?

James’ thoughts made his head spin. He was unable to think straight and the full intensity of this mother’s death overwhelmed him. Tears formed slowly in his eyes before gently meandering down his cheeks.

What do I do now?
James thought, while the tears flowed.
I don’t want to stay here all alone. But what about the cottage?
He took a deep breath and wiped his face.
I could sell it. Move! Yes, I could move. But what about Carol and Lex? I can’t leave them here alone.
He felt like he was trapped in this remote place, where all purpose of his life had been stolen away. All he had was his memories. His mind wandered back to one of the few reminiscences of his father.

*****

James was five. It was a clear late summer evening and there was a gentle breeze blowing through the valley. That day Lex had made him a bright scarlet coloured model aeroplane, which they spent the evening gliding down the hillside at the rear of the cottage. When it became too dark to see James sat down alongside him, half way up the hillside.

James pointed up into the night sky.

‘Look, dad, an aeroplane?’

‘That’s not an aeroplane.’

‘What is it, dad?’

‘It’s called a shooting star,’ Lex replied, watching the bright white line fading quickly away.

He coughed.

‘What’s a shooting star?’

Lex picked up a large stone that lay nearby.

‘A large rock, which may have been as big as you, has got very hot and burned up in the sky like a giant firework.’

‘Did someone throw it?’

Lex paused for a moment and gazed up at the sky.

‘No,’ he coughed. ‘It’s been travelling for a very long time.’

‘Where did it come from, Dad?’

‘Somewhere out there,’ he said, pointing to the sky. ‘See all those lights?’ Lex coughed once more. ‘One day you’ll look down from up there.’

‘Will I be able to fly?’

‘Yes, son,’ Lex replied and smiled.

‘Lex!’ Carol shouted from the cottage below. ‘It’s time for James to go to bed.’

‘Coming, dear,’ Lex replied.

‘Oh! Do we have to?’ James said.

Lex coughed more violently. He took two large deep breaths.

‘Are you all right, Dad?’ James asked.

‘Yes, I think so. Let’s go in! You heard your mother,’ Lex said.

‘I want to stay and watch the stars,’ James said, smiling at his father to try to convince him.

‘Come on! There’s always tomorrow…’

*****

Raindrops started to fall on James’ face, bringing him back to reality. He looked up at the angry clouds.
I’ll be soaked in minutes
, he thought, but nothing seemed to matter anymore, and he lay back on the hill.

*****

It took some time for James to finally come to terms with his mother’s death. He spent hours just sitting up on the hillside or in his favourite armchair in the living room, worrying and contemplating his life ahead.

Sitting once again in his usual soft armchair, he was admiring a small magnogenic canvas of a brightly coloured flower hanging above the fireplace.
Carol always liked that painting. It reminded her of where she grew up. The flower’s so unusual; it has so many colours. I wish I could paint like that.

James looked across to where Carol would have sat. His attention was drawn to the small box Carol had given him, sitting on the chest beneath the small bay window. He couldn’t even remember placing it there. Sunlight reflected mysteriously on its dark-grey surface which was acting like a prism, casting a rainbow onto the far wall. James reached across and held the box in both hands.

It was about half the size of a shoebox and cold to the touch. It was extremely light and James thought it was probably metallic. All the corners were rounded off and its grey surface had no blemishes or scratches on it. Looking for a way of opening it, James could hear things rattling around inside. He noticed there was a very faint line near the base, or was it the top? James turned it over and placed it on the table just in front of him. He went on trying to open it until the faint line slowly widened and the top came away with a soft click.

Inside there were five objects which James removed to have a look at.

The first appeared to be a watch. It was entirely jet black, had a mirror-like shine and felt warm when held. There were no buttons, and where the face would have been was an embossed symbol of the letter ‘A’ without the right leg, set inside an ellipse.

There were two thick cartridges which reminded him of a large computer flash drive. One was pearlescent green and had the words ‘BAL OUF LOVAXYISPID’ printed on it. The other was bright red and had ‘FTOEF RISEWTAQ ———’ written on it. The final word had been deliberately scratched away. One of the corners of the red data cartridge was missing and it looked like the casing had been melted.

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