Authors: G.L. Douglas
Tags: #speculative fiction, #science fiction, #future, #action adventure, #futuristic, #space travel, #allegory, #sci fi adventure, #distant worlds, #space exploration, #future world, #21st century, #cs lewis, #space adventure, #visionary fiction, #believable science fiction, #spiritual science fiction, #sci fi action, #hope symbol, #star rider
“
I’d rather launch it than
eat it,” he said.
Reno picked through a bowl of astral foods
and pulled out something that looked like a dark brown fortune
cookie. “Camling,” he stated.
“
Camling,” Bach repeated.
“Where have I heard that word before?”
“
Fruit’s delicious,” Reno
said, “but swallow one of the small seeds and you’ll drop in your
tracks and sleep for hours. Not poisonous; just tranquilizing to
the point of immobilization. Used medically. Here, taste
one.”
“
Uh, maybe
later.”
Reno tossed down a handful of pellets that
looked like red-skinned peanuts while Bach inventoried the unusual
fare. Soon, curiosity got the better of him and he pulled a camling
from its thorny stem. Avoiding the dozen small black seeds in the
middle, he nibbled the outer edges then rolled the pulp around in
his mouth. His face lit up with a smile. “Mmmm. Tastes like
chocolate, like a chewy brownie. It’d be easy to get carried away
and swallow a pit without knowing it. Mmmm.” He ate two more.
“
We’re here to dance,” said
the dreaded voice of Lavender Rose as she slithered in front of
Bach with a come-hither look. The pretty blond he’d seen across the
room was with her. Lavender touched Bach’s chest. “I get him.” She
waved her hand toward Elan. “Oh, by the way, Bach, this is Elan,
Reno’s crewmate.”
Bach stepped away from Lavender and moved
closer to the mystery woman. “Nice to meet you, Elan.”
Elan’s green eyes drank him in, but there
was no chance at conversation with Lavender Rose’s nonstop
babbling.
While locked in a stare
with Elan, Bach mentally sorted through bits of information.
So, the mystery woman is Elan … her name came up
at worship. Maybe late twenties. Reno’s crewmate. Hmmm. Small
world.
Swaying to the music, Reno pulled Elan onto
the dance floor. Lavender tugged on Bach’s hand. He yelled louder
than intended, “I don’t want to dance.” The playful look on her
face turned to a pout, but he didn’t notice. Watching the co-op
partners enjoying a close dance triggered memories of life on Earth
and holding Kaz in his arms.
Lavender broke his train of thought. “Sooo,
why don’t you like me?” She moved to within inches of his face and
rocked her chest forward. “You know I’m wildly attracted to you.”
Her breath smelled of Axxis.
He pulled away. “I have a fiancée.”
“
A fiancée? How interesting
… no, how disgusting. You couldn’t have found someone that quickly.
You haven’t been here long enough. Who is she?”
“
She’s not a Duran, she’s
my crewmate from Earth … captive in Ulwor with three others. I have
to rescue them before the new year. I want her with me.”
Lavender narrowed her eyes. “Want her with
you? What’s happening in the new year?”
“
You, you didn’t let me
finish. I have to get my crewmates here, to Dura. I know they won’t
cooperate with the Ultimate World’s principals. They may be harmed.
The new year is my personal goal to rescue them.”
“
That doesn’t sound right.
What’s the real reason?”
“
They’re great people whose
skills will benefit Dura. You’ll like them all.”
Lavender persisted like a
blood-seeking mosquito. “Still not the real reason … and I won’t
like
her
. But I
love challenges, and I want you to owe me. By the new year, huh?
Ten days to get them. What’s it worth to you?”
“
Lavender…,” Bach rested
his hands on her shoulders, “you’re going through a tough time
since your spouse defected to Ulwor. I have the same hopeless
feeling. When we worked together, I respected and valued your
knowledge and skills. How can we elude Ulwor’s security? Please,
I’ll do whatever I can to repay you.”
“
Well, you’ll never
circumvent the Ultimate World’s security
and
rescue four people, but since …
what’s your fiancée’s name?”
“
Kaz.”
“
Since Kaz and the others
don’t want to be there, the Specter might negotiate. He wants loyal
followers.”
Lavender led Bach to a service bar away from
the music and crowd and selected two cups filled with an icy purple
sludge. She handed a cup to him and said, “Bells,” in her raspy
voice, then clinked her cup to his. He tried not to watch as she
wrapped her lips around the straw and sucked the thick drink with
pleasure. “Much better,” she purred, “need to settle down and
think.” She motioned for Bach to drink. He flinched. She shook her
head. “It’s Eezee. Taste it.”
He complained inside his
head.
Don’t want to be here, much less try
another astral concoction with unknown consequences.
He sniffed the grapey-smelling slush and blasted
air from his nose in disgust. “I’m not thirsty right now, Lavender,
and I don’t need to settle down. I didn’t drink any Axxis to get
wound up in the first place. I need your help.”
“
Don’t worry. Eezee’s not
intoxicating. It’ll clear extraneous matter from your mind. You’ll
have full concentration. Then we can talk.”
Bach feigned camaraderie
and took a few sips.
I wonder if she’s
telling the truth about the effects of this stuff.
The syrupy, acidic Eezee burned going down, and he
couldn’t help but recall his frivolous experience with Lavender and
a few drops of sparkling water. He set the cup back on the bar.
“Don’t like it.” When he turned around, Lavender was twelve inches
from his face. She wrapped her arms around his neck like tentacles
and before he could react, her open-mouthed kiss warmed his gasping
lips. He resisted for a moment. Then, perhaps it was the purple
drink, her enchanting scent, or the forgotten taste of a female’s
kiss, but his body responded with a tinge of pleasure that stirred
emotions he didn’t want stirred.
She whispered in his ear, “You know what? I
could rescue your fiancée and crewmates tonight, but I’m going to
make you wait.”
Fists clenched at his sides, Bach tried to
step back. “Lavender, help me. How can we get them back?”
Another whisper. “I’ve got an ‘in’ with the
Specter.”
Wilde appeared as if summoned by an alarm
and forced his way between the two. Lavender draped her arm over
her cohort’s shoulder. “Wilde knows all about that. Don’t you
Mister Wilde, oh wild one?”
Wilde’s knuckles whitened in a grip on her
arm. “Enough, Lavender. You’ve gone too far.” He smirked at Bach.
“She’s a great little manipulator … just doesn’t know when to quit.
Thinks because her spouse is with the enemy she’ll have
privileges.” She tried to shake from his grasp. “Apply your moral
brakes, Lavender.” Wilde escorted the loose-lipped seductress
through the crowd toward the snack table. She resisted all the way
but he held fast, then searched for a camling and force-fed it to
her, seeds and all.
Bach’s emotions rocketed
toward deep space.
Damn, she was ready to
help me. I know I can get my crewmates back and I can’t let more
time pass. Should I defect and join them as a ruse? With what I’ve
learned, we can all escape. But what if the Specter keeps me from
Kaz … uses our love against us as torture?
Party sounds melded into meaningless jumble.
No one noticed when Bach slipped through a
side door into the darkness. A box of light-emitting wands on a
patio table caught his eye. He stuck two into his pocket, and
activated another. The wand illuminated an area fifteen yards in
diameter. Music from inside played through the patio speakers. A
female singer’s haunting lyrics seemed a twist of fate. “When
darkness clouds a starry sky, and suns and moons give up and die;
when quenching waters fade away, and mighty lives fall to decay;
there is a higher ground.”
Bach stared into the dark Jenesis night
where nothing could be seen except the glowing, golden thread of
light suspended over the crest of distant Mount Hope. He pulled the
eternity circle necklace from inside his jumpsuit and let it rest
on his chest. The singer continued, “You’ll see the sign of truth …
the light … the mountain’s higher ground.”
He had to reach the holy hill.
*****
Heart pounding, Bach set out toward the
light with a strong, steady pace. As he clipped off mile after mile
of barren terrain, his feet grew steadily heavier and a drenching
sweat pasted the shimmery jumpsuit to his skin. Yet he labored on,
hot air funneling down his throat and salty sweat droplets
streaming from the ends of his hair into his eyes. Struggling to
breathe as the last mile approached, he slowed his pace to
rest—body aching and thighs spasming into knots. But with the light
from infinity growing ever nearer, he relentlessly pressed on
toward his goal.
Finally! The mountain! Bent over with hands
on knees, Bach struggled to catch his breath. Dry coughs emptied
his lungs.
One more obstacle.
The sweating, groaning soldier sprinted a
hundred yards up the incline and stepped into the golden beam.
Weakened and weary, he dropped to his knees, leaned his forearms
onto the ground, and rested his head on his clasped hands. After a
gasp for breath he cried out, “Almighty! Your will is done.”
Another gasp. “The earthship’s restoration will be completed in ten
days … by the new year.” He paused, as if anticipating a reply. “I
need guidance.”
Agonizing silence, punctuated by Bach’s
labored breathing, spanned what seemed an eternity.
He waited … and waited, searching the
awe-inspiring oracle and holding open light-blinded eyes until
involuntary muscles slammed them shut.
A pale breeze fanned the mount. He felt it
drift over his head. Then an incoming charge of positive energy
surged through his every bone and muscle, and a cool mist quenched
his thirst.
Renewed, he called out, “I am ready.”
From the startling stillness came a sound
like the slash of a sword, only magnified a hundred times. A white
shaft of light projected through the golden tunnel, and the beam
etched a perfect circle into the sand at his knees.
Bach’s eyes followed the light as it crossed
the circle—top to bottom, then right to left.
The Creator spoke.
“
Bach, my faithful
apprentice. Remember this sign of my chosen ones. Your travel will
take you through the zone of Balal in search of one man and one
woman from each of the planets. You will recognize those most
faithful ones by this symbol of hope, but they will not have it
knowingly. Be not defeated in your search. Resolve trials through
spiritual discernment. The faithful ones will accept your
calling.”
As further instructions arrived from above,
Bach’s eyes stayed riveted to the icon burned into the ground.
Then, with heart thumping and prayers caught in his throat, he
looked into the blinding light and nodded agreement.
When the energy subsided, he covered the
symbol with sand.
*****
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
During the next nine days, Bach didn’t see
Lavender Rose again. She was somewhere at the Skyprism facility
because his research and hers interfaced, but her absence was
peculiar.
With the new year and liftoff a day away,
Bach rushed to Altemus’s office and, as he entered, flung the
half-closed door full open in his haste.
Busy checking a schematic, the old man
motioned without looking up for his colleague to wait. Bach
fidgeted, but said nothing during the few minutes it took Altemus
to finish.
The elder rested his arms on the desk and
squinted at his partner through bloodshot eyes that seemed not to
focus. He removed his trifocals and tossed them aside with a
stifled huff. “Our fuel production specialists are making enough
briquette bases for Alpha to fly to planet En Gedi and back. I
designated two bogus co-op missions to cover the fuel you’ll need,
and it went without question from the security board.”
Bach hovered over his mentor like a worried
parent. “Altemus, the Creator gave me another instruction last
night. We’re not flying to one planet at a time. It’s a
seventeen-day mission. I’ll need enough fuel to reach all the
planets and to get back home.”
“
All … and back home in one
trip? At the last minute?” Altemus rested his forehead in both
hands. “Bach. I don’t know. Producing that much fuel will raise
suspicion.” He tapped on a small device and complained. “It’s well
beyond our normal production run and, worse, Alpha’s fuel chamber
isn’t designed to hold that much. You’ll be vulnerable with extra
fuel stored on board.”
“
We need it by
tomorrow.”
“
Tomorrow?”
Bach paced the floor. “Why,
all of a sudden, is everything getting even harder at the last
minute?” He looked at Altemus. “And tell me what you make of this.
This morning, I found an Electro Glove sketchpad at my workstation.
Not mine. Something about it bothered me, so before anyone claimed
it, I processed it to see if I could make out writing or sketch
indentations. Something at the top looked like a title with a
capital
A
, three
question marks, and another capital
A
. Numbers ran downward—like answers
or questions. Beside the first number was ‘new year’ followed by a
question mark. That’s all I could make out. Altemus, does the
Specter’s underground know about Alpha?”
“
Well, Bach, we can’t rule
that out, but our new year is always significant as a fresh start.
It’s generally the target date for lengthy projects.”