The Convoy
Drew Bell
Copyright 2011 by Drew Bell
Smashwords Edition
Prologue
“Dear Journal,
I had the most bizarre dream again; this time it was different from the rest. I woke up a few times to shake the image out of my head, but each time I closed my eyes I found that sleep overtook my consciousness. Again I was floating weightlessly over some sort of vista; below me rolled endless hills and structures. I had feathers, all over my arms, like I was a bird. I took a perch on a tree and looked through a window; in front of me was something strange, something alien. I try as hard as I can to see clearly what this monster is, but then suddenly my dream shifted. This is where it was different; there was a white flash and I could see nothing. I don’t know what it all means, but these nightmares have been getting more and more severe, I can only pray that the clarity of the dreams mean that I am gaining control over them. I pray that I won’t lose myself to these dreams. I feel a tugging at my heart, as though I am being magnetized towards something, I only hope that this time my heart isn’t being prepared for disappointment again.”
I need a rekindling of excitement in my life,
Lalia Tarrus
Chapter 1
Miles felt cold; he stood in an enormous empty room. The floor beneath his was tiled green and red. The walls were made of large grey bricks, but what caught Miles’ eyes was the tapestry before him. The tapestry hung against the brick, the weave seemed to ripple and move, as though it were liquid. Miles reached out to touch it. His alarm sounded and he woke.
The day began like any other for Miles Hearst, he first heard the alarm go off at 7:10, a good 20 minutes before the time he actually needed to be awake, allowing him plenty of opportunity to stretch and scrape the crust rimming his eyes. Ordinarily he would wallow deeper into his comic-book based comforter, then eventually (always before 7:30) force himself out of his captain’s bed into the time-worn slippers waiting at the bed side. Miles typically gave himself approximately five minutes to make his bed, the pillows do not touch the ground, and to go pee (this is occasionally first, depending on how thirsty he was at 9:30 before he went to sleep the night before). Miles usually splashed water on his face, change into the shirt and associated shorts (always the ones on top) and because it was a Tuesday he still had a red shirt (his favorite color) to wear. He would take to the stairs, running the first several steps and jumping the last three steps to the bottom, (last time he jumped four steps he nearly twisted his ankle and stepped on his dog’s tail). He would pour approximately five cups of cereal (usually a raisin-bran or healthy alternative) into a bowl that usually can hold four cups of cereal (but hey, he is a growing boy). He ordinarily would run up the stairs (after he have sipped the milk at the bottom of his bowl) then brush my teeth, failing to spit out the toothpaste at the end; simply because he felt that if he were to die by toothpaste then that was simply fate he could resign to. He had sort of resigned himself to an obituary reading “He had a little bit too much fluoride in his system”. The mirror showed a mostly average-in-appearance seventeen-year-old; he had just begun to grow out of his awkward lankiness. To his satisfaction his fair-skinned complexion was clear of the acne that had plagued it for the past two years, one of his teeth hung crookedly from the top at an angle. Miles’ mother had insisted he get a haircut, his bangs hung loosely against his forehead, he probably would give in to her demands after school. Regardless, he would run a few wet fingers through his thick brown hair, twist the few hairs he had on his chin (he prided himself on growing a beard, in high school this is a really big deal). Miles was by no means handsome; once or twice he had been called cute, but not lately. Miles blew himself a kiss in the mirror and headed back downstairs. He grabbed his backpack, and yes, he did forget to grab his Biology textbook, and no, he did not finish his Spanish homework.
Miles lived in Pyschque, California which was conveniently located close enough to Los Angeles to get horrific smog but not close enough to make Christmas shopping any easier for his parents. Miles sat in his afternoon Spanish class, slowly dying of boredom (which was really little more than a veil for his lack of understanding and the frustration beneath that), his best friend Seymour is picking at particularly gross pimple on his shoulder. He was in the back corner; it was safe for him to look out the windows wishing that somehow he could better appreciate the cool autumn weather, to be more precise; he wanted to enjoy the weather outside of the classroom. Actually, he just wanted class to be over. As he sat next to the window, slowly banging his greasy head against the perfectly clean window, he noted a small glimmer of light. A black bird, probably a crow, and perches it’s self on the branch right outside the window. The bird turns its head towards Miles, its eyes unmoving from their target. Miles pressed his face against the glass, in the light it looked as though the bird had blue eyes. He tapped his friend Seymour to get his attention; certainly a blue-eyed crow was more important than the armpit stain he was checking out.
“Seymour, look at this. Seriously, this bird has really sweet eyes. They’re blue.” Miles said in amazement, he pressed his fingers harder into Seymour’s back.
He turned back towards the bird; it looked back at him, and then fluttered its wings.
The crow took flight, and it chose to kamikaze into the window next to Miles. The bird’s impact broke the monotonous voice of Miles’ teacher. Miles jumped in his seat, his teacher turned from the blackboard to eye Miles;
“Miles! Is there a problem?” She asked with an eyebrow arched.
Miles nodded “No.” He turned to look out at the window.
The bird continued to attack the window. It began to shed feathers and scraped its bird feet against the thick glass, the scratches were deep and frightening. Miles cried out loud;
“Mrs. Hoffman, there is this crow and he keeps hitting the window.”
“Miles Hearst, stop distracting the class. I have had enough.” She replied sharply.
Miles looked to Seymour for support, he gave him a look, this look frightened him the most; he didn’t understand what Miles was talking about. The crow was squawking loudly, it’s scraping echoing throughout the room, but not a single one of Miles’ classmates turned to face the attacking bird. Miles was alone; he anxiously began to shuffle in his seat.
He blurted out loud; “Doesn’t anybody see the crazy bird attacking the window?”
A few of his classmates whispered; “Anybody see a crazy kid?”
He had enough and threw his textbook, Spanish: A Simple Language for Simple People, at the student who mocked him, and because he spent more time (a lot more time) playing Risk than Football, Basketball, and Baseball combined it hit the girl sitting behind the intended target. Unfortunately the girl it hit was the really hot blonde girl who moved to Psychque from Australia, she had a sweet German accent.
“Wait, its Australia isn’t it?” Miles had once foolishly asked her, trying to impress him with his broad expanse of linguistic skill.
Either way, he managed to completely make a fool of himself, so he ran for the door and out of the classroom. Mrs. Hoffman huffed loudly; she clacked her heels as she quickly picked up the phone and dialed for the school’s disciplinarian.
“Shit!” he said out loud, figuring that if he was going to be in trouble he might as well say his first swear word.
Miles ran towards the street, thinking perhaps he could hide in the mall.
“The community college just got out for lunch, and I am gaining some muscle by playing Wii Fit, I could easily be mistaken for a college student.” Miles thought.
The Crow intercepted him. It began.
“Leave me alone!” He shouted at the blue-eyed crow.
The crow flew at him, its feathers scattered, and Miles flailed his arms to swat it away. His whole vision went black; feathers covered all that he could see. He didn’t feel any pain, but the fear when it unleashed its claws and dug deep into his arms brought him to hysterics. He continued to scream and move all around, flailing his arms. The bird was constantly squawking in a noise that most closely resembled a child screaming. Miles’ tears streamed and his mouth gaped open. He swatted at the bird to no avail; the bird moved quickly enough to be everywhere at once. Then the attack stopped. The feathers settled, Miles could finally see something other than the black. He gingerly felt his face, which had been attacked, yet felt nothing, he was fine. He looked down at his hands expecting blood and feather fragments.
Miles was made of translucent crystal.
“I’ve completely lost it.” He thought.
He turned to face the direction from which he had run. Mrs. Hoffman and the Disciplinarian were standing in the school’s courtyard looking for me; their eyes wandered over past the direction where he was standing. They saw nothing, he was invisible to them.
Miles shouted to them: “Mrs. Hoffman, Mr. Droidt! I am over here. I’m sorry.”
They didn’t hear him. He tried to move towards them, he looked at his feet, looking for an explanation for why he couldn’t move; there was a pile of black feathers weighing him down. He tried to lift his foot, but the feathers began to solidify into crystal as well, he couldn’t move.
“Move, move.” He tried to will his foot into motion.
“What is going on?” He asked the air, between sobs, his eyes rimmed-red from the fount of water streaming from them.
His whole invisible body began to crystallize; he was going to die a human chandelier. The school bell rang, signaling students to be let out for lunch.
“This is my last chance.” Miles realized.
“Someone help me!” He cried to the students who passed him.
Miles tried to turn my head, but his neck wouldn’t give. He tried to wiggle his fingers, and then he realized that neither his fingers nor his eyes would move.
He prayed out loud; “God, I’m sorry for swearing. I’m sorry for looking at that blonde girl’s butt-crack. Don’t let me die like this.”
Miles focused all of his being into that next five minutes; he strained every part of his body that could move, he willed that somehow my crystalline form would give way back to his freckled and oily skin.
The other students looked through him, he was envious of one guy’s blank stare, his bulging eyes were a perfect round representation of something Miles was certain he would never have again. One girl ran past him, a red homecoming balloon succumbing to its master’s will, her elbow made contact with Miles’ and caused a shockwave of pain. If he had tears left they would have streamed, if he still had a voice it would scream. They taunted him with their freedom.
“It will end this way. At least I tried, I was so close.” He resigned, wishing with all his being that he could escape this crystal tomb.
“I had always envisioned myself dying with my wife like they do in “The Notebook”. Miles thought as he looked outward at all the other students milling around, one of his peers used a Fruit-by-the-Foot as an Indiana Jones whip.
He didn’t close his eyes; he simply stopped seeing as his eyes crystallized over.
Miles was left with one chance, his lungs began to quiver inside; he knew, somehow, what was about to happen. He knew that he would want his eyes to be closed for what was about to happen.
Based off of CLERGY 1’s radiation scans, a planet just went supernova. There was a flash, the radiant light spread from a single point and eradicated all life from the face of the Earth. It was nearly instantaneous (.06 Seconds for the elimination of a planet), and its point of origin was a seventeen-year-old glass boy in what used to be called Psychque, Ca.
Chapter 2
The Convoy finally broke through the Trillion Veil, the sleek vessels resembled a flying icicle, and the Idinium Repulsors utilized the explosive force of mixing the elements Iodine and Aluminum under zero pressure. The resulting flash freeze jettisons each of the individual CLERGY vessels at high speeds, with the side effect of ice coating the exterior hull of the ship, each repulsor moving like a fish’s fin.
Aboard the flagship, Admiral Latarr strides along the bridge, several crew members busily typing at their consoles. The bridge floor was littered with haphazardly placed large box computer consoles, a wide expanse of window faced forward, and a sleek black raised catwalk cut through the bridge floor from the entrance to the window. The walls of CLERGY 1 were reflective panels of metal, the individual angular sheets of metal panel did not meet at the edges, exposed colored cables and wires weaved behind the panels. The members of the Convoy are humanoid in appearance, their light blue skin is slightly different because they have scaly texture, and they refer to themselves as Callos. The Callos range in build as humans do; girth and height varied from one Callos to another. The Admiral stood straighter and taller than most of the Callos, his military upbringing provided that. He, like the other Convoy members, had blue feathers on his head and a beak-like nose. His eyes were a sharp grey, his lips pursed tightly in concentration. He paced with his hands behind his back, his fingers human-like but with sharper thicker nails.
Each of the Callos below him were in brightly colored skin tight suits, the Callos paid no attention to their Admiral striding the platform above them. The Convoy requires precise calculations for trajectory, the slightest mistake in calculation could result in a collision course with a rogue meteor.
Admiral Latarr approached a console jutting from his viewing platform; he pressed the screen as he spoke through to those aboard each of the Convoy vessels:
“This is Admiral Latarr, we are adjusting our course.” He said as he adjusted his black and white jumpsuit, the thick padding at the shoulders emblematic of his position.
“We have reason to believe that something we previously calculated to be a small terrestrial ball just went supernova. Therefore our course is redirected approximately 87 reaches.” He explained.
Admiral Latarr’s voice boomed over several thousand loud speakers placed throughout each of the six CLERGY vessels. Admiral Latarr clicked his shiny black boots and left the bridge heel-toe heel-toe.
The Admiral strode off the platform towards an office nearby; he closed the door behind him.
“We just saved two days of fuel.” He explained, holding back a confident smile.
A grayscale face projected from a thin screen, the image moved as the projected Callos spoke.
“Sir, based off of additional analysis.” The floating head explained, the face was gaunt and angular; the feathers on his head were thin and wispy. The collar of the doctor’s white lab coat occasionally bobbed up and down; the projected Callos was walking as he spoke.
“Analysis of the supernova?” The Admiral asked with his brow raised.
“Sir. You asked me to oversee the data stream from our scouting probes.” The Doctor reminded.
“What did the results show?” The Admiral asked with concern.
“I cannot be certain, but they suggest that the source of the radiation burst stemmed from a planet’s surface.” The Doctor explained, wringing his hands in worry.
“Interesting.” The Admiral thought out loud. Reclining in his chair, he ran his hand through his straight-cut feathers.
“What do you suggest?” The Admiral asked, straightening in his seat; this situation needed to be dealt with carefully.
“It is your command, but I have to admit,” The Callos in the lab coat bit his lip;
“We need some additional information.” He spat out finally.
“Thank you, Doctor. I think I might have something for Alvar to do. He has been anxious to do something.” The Admiral decided, pulling the thin tablet off of his desk closer to his face. He pressed against the screen, deactivating the hologram, the Doctor’s face disappeared.
Admiral Latarr stood from his desk and returned to the bridge, he leaned to whisper to a crew member. He nodded in understanding and briskly left the bridge.
The Admiral remained stationary, looking out the panoramic window; stars and the black blanket of space filled it. He remained still for a few minutes until the metal doors to the bridge hissed open automatically.
“Admiral, sir!” A male voice called out.
The Admiral turned with a grin to face the Callos standing on the platform next to him; the Callos wore a sleek red military jacket, large gold flourishes marked the clasps used to attach the jacket to his regular skin-tight suit. The Callos filled it well, well-built like the Admiral with the same strong jaw, the Callos stepped closer for a hug.
“Alvar, brother.” The Admiral greeted him.
“What was it, which my brother the Admiral needs from me?” Alvar said loudly, glancing to both directions to see whether the crew around him was paying attention to him.
“Alvar, please.” The Admiral directed him to be quieter, “Come with me.”
The Admiral led Alvar to the side, against the wall.
“Doctor Melric informed me of a strange development.” The Admiral began.
Alvar stood quietly, listening intently.
“Apparently the source of the supernova I just announced was a planet.” The Admiral explained, “I need someone to investigate. Take whoever you need with you.” He whispered.
“What you think that the Yau Tang are back?” Alvar laughed, turning to see whether anyone else thought his joke was funny.
The Yau Tang was a militant alien species who had warred with the Callos two-hundred years ago. Whispers of their continued existence remained, but folklore always took longer to die. Especially because the Callos are capable of accessing ancestral memory; at birth all of the memories of the parents and their ancestors are imprinted on the new born infant. Every generation the Callos grew more efficient… and set in their ways.
“Do me this favor. I ask you because I knew you would be keen on doing something so bold.” The Admiral admitted, gritting his teeth to prevent him from snapping out against his brother.
“Yes, sir!” Alvar snapped to a salute and mock marched out of the bridge.
The Admiral ran his hand across his face in frustration;
“The Convoy is so close to Phlasia. I can’t let anything go wrong now.” He thought. “We don’t have nearly enough food, water, fuel, or minerals to sustain ourselves without. It is my responsibility.”
He closed his eyes and concentrated, the last thing he needed was another problem.
Chapter 3
A female Convoy member sat straighter in her chair, renowned as a scholar, Doctor Lalia Tarrus was bored at her console. Being of wealthy stock and unequivocal beauty, Lalia had been trained to make her the most eligible bride in the whole Convoy; but she was now the caretaker of the thirty-six Idinium Repulsors on the six CLERGY vessels. The lithe Doctor propped her fist to her mouth as she thought, her eyes were large round deep blue, her scaly complexion was a pale blue, her long feathers flowed from her head, and her cheek bones were strong. She was strikingly beautiful as she turned to face her laboratory assistant:
“Did you hear that?” She asked.
She leaned closer towards the loudspeaker from which the Admiral’s voice had rung through; the scratchy audio garbled his every word. She turned to her lab assistant, a chubby male, Galio Forrt.
“Galio, did you understand the Admiral’s update?” she asked.
“No, I didn’t. But did you hear that Rhondulus was having problems on the maintenance deck? He will undoubtedly be reassigned, hopefully in the telosphere.” Galio garbled, his voice always drowned by a seemingly endless cold.
Galio’s face was mashed-in; his large cheeks crowded his small head, his chin protruded out due to his minor under bite. Though his blue cheeks appeared a little rosy at times, he was much shorter and fatter than most Callos, waddling as he walked towards Lalia.
“Hmm.” Lalia quieted herself.
Galilo’s eyes widened. Lalia Tarrus was never speechless; her thoughts usually came so quickly, interjecting an idea when she was thinking was near impossible.
“Lalia?” Galio asked, futilely craning his short neck to raise his head as though Lalia would whisper in it.
“Yes?” Lalia replied, absent minded, she pursed her lips and held a thin finger to her temple. She was utterly lost in thought. She stood to pace the room; the walls were angular, jagged sheets of metal partially concealed hundreds of exposed wires and cables running through the wall. The ground was semi-translucent, small blue lights would trace the same circuitous patter over and over; the floor resembled a moving night’s sky.
“What is it that you are so deep in thought about? Is it the Admiral?” Galio asked. “I understand hearing him everyday must be hard on you.” He began.
He took a step towards her, slowly, as though she might turn quickly or violently.
“No, no. It is not the Admiral.” She answered, though a brief image of the Admiral flashed in her head. She physically shook it off. She needed to focus.
“What if?” She continued, now thinking out loud, excitement showed on her face. “Galio, what if a dream could come true? What if, somehow, I used my consciousness to project actuality?” She asked.
Galio squinted his eyes a bit; Lalia wasn’t being practical. She was speaking in theory, the concept made sense, it was simply an impossibility. Lalia Tarrus did not think in impossibility.
“Galio. I think that supernova was my doing. I dreamed that I was on a small planet, that I was emanating light. Then the whole world was void, save me, I was translucent; clear like a port window.” She continued.
“Why are you so fixated on this?” Galio asked, “Are you trying to cling to this as an explanation for your weird nightmares?”
Lalia sighed as she slouched in her chair, a hand held to her temple.
“I have never felt so certain about anything.” She breathed.
Galio looked at her, certain she had made some sort of important discovery. Lalia’s mind often moved faster than he or she could ever try to catch up, but he needed to show faith in her, if he wanted her to trust him.
“Galio, I am telling you the truth. It may sound untrue; I promise I am not trying to fool you.” She pleaded with him; her deep blue eyes assured him this was the truth.
“Doctor Tarrus. What would you have me do?” Galio asked with a slight bow, “Of course I will help you.” He said with the best wink he could give, he hacked though his perpetual cold.
“Galio, you and I will leave the Convoy and visit this planet.” She whispered with excitement.
Galio eyed her carefully; “Lalia, the planet just went supernova! You can’t actually expect to take a shuttle. What would happen if our systems encounter interference? We would lose the Convoy. There would be no Phlasia. Ever.”
Lalia Tarrus looked out her port window; she stood tall, she knew she was on the brink of something large. She was convinced her dream caused the supernova explosion of a planet, she was also certain that the planet remained and something important awaited her.
Galio hurriedly packed a case with food and long metal cylinders; he also layered stacks of blank holo-foils on top before he latched the case closed. The shuttle would need enough supplies for four days;
“There is no way to know how long the trip might take.” Lalia explained.
The trip would be unprecedented, no Callos ever willingly left the Convoy, at Galio’s suggestion Lalia agreed to wait until the night cycle aboard the ship began.
Lalia slid out of her laboratory with Galio behind her; they approached the hanger without encountering any of the other Convoy members. The hanger was mostly empty; a few shuttles lay docked to suspended platforms, below them was the mechanic floor. Lalia jogged up the metal scaffolding attached to the hanger command tower, she activated the hanger doors and returned quickly to Galio. They selected a shuttle; a sleek spear-like vessel, with a slight glimmer from the ice coating due to it’s miniature Idinuim Repulsors. Galio settled in the pilot’s seat, Lalia next to him. Unknowingly they initiated a rescue mission.
Meanwhile on CLERGY 1, Admiral Latarr sat in his deep commander’s chair. The Admiral had before him twelve of the Convoy’s strongest soldiers; they represented the remnant of the once powerful Convoy military power. The Callos had since returned to a peace-loving species; these brave soldiers were called to protect this peace. There was something suspicious about the terrestrial sphere it was impossibility that a planet could go supernova. The Admiral needed this issue resolved; Phlasia was only two weeks away.
The Admiral’s soldiers were outfitted with some of the Convoy’s outdated weaponry; the Callos had been at peace for the past two-hundred years, their oldest enemies the Yau Tang had been eradicated. But the military instinct had not died those hundreds of years ago, the pain of war continued to be passed on. Admiral Latarr knew that he personally clung to the memories of military victories, even if they weren’t his own memories; he would have one of his own. These twelve soldiers were known only to him, they marched in formation unto the sleek grey shuttle equipped with miniature Idinium Repulsors, their rifles on their backs, they saluted to him.
With a firm swift movement of his hand to his brow, he authorized these Callos out of the hanger bay. The shuttle quietly pulled its nose and the Repulsors kicked on, a brief hover and the vehicle lifted out of the hanger. Admiral Latarr prayed under his breath to Phlasia:
“Phlasia, be with us now. We near our pilgrimage. To you, I send these brave Callos.” He whispered.
The shuttle left the hanger of CLERGY 1 towards the remnant of the supernova, as did a small shuttle leaving CLERGY 5. A collision course had just been plotted, someone calculated incorrectly.
Chapter 3
The scene played over and over in Miles’ head;
“What happened?” He asked rubbing his eyes.
Miles remembered being in Spanish class, next to Seymour’s nasty shoulder pimple.
“That’s right! I remember that blue-eyed crow. That feathery fiend attacked me, first at the window, and then outside the classroom. I checked down at my arms, relieved that my skin was no longer clear like glass, when I moved my arms around I realized that I could again move.” Miles reminded himself with a crooked grin of disbelief.
“Everything is back to normal.” Miles thought happily, but he then removed his hands from his eyes.
He stood on a barren planet; Earth had seemingly been wiped clean.
Like some chalkboard, the ridges and color of the chalk had been erased; all he could see for endless miles was a smooth slate grey, as though the planet had been reduced to a cement ball. Miles pleaded with himself to wake-up;
“This dream was terrifying.”” Miles thought, starting to whimper, he fell to his knees and began to cry;
“What did I do wrong?” Miles screamed to the blank sky, “How do I deserve this?”
But somewhere knew, somewhere deep inside, that this wasn’t a dream. He was terrified; he began to wander aimlessly around this giant grey planet, there were no trees, and there weren’t even hills. Miles began to walk anxiously, his pace picked up and soon he was running.
Miles would have said the Earth became flat, except that he could see the curvature of the Earth for miles and miles in the distance.
“God. Please let me wake up.” He said out loud, tears mixing with the snot streaming from his nose.
Miles continued to walk along this forsaken planet, pulling at his hair and wiping at his nose with his arm.
“No. I don’t want to die like this.” He cried throwing his hands in the air, “I don’t want to be alone. I want things the way they were. I want to wake up!”
“This is real.” He began to admit to himself. He begun to finally realize that it wasn’t a dream, somehow he had actually witnessed the end of the world.
“But I didn’t really turn to glass.” He conceded to himself.
“If I was going to accept the truth I needed to eliminate the part that was obviously something my brain did as a defense mechanism.” Miles told himself, still refusing to fully accept his situation.
Miles slumped to the ground and sobbed loudly for several minutes. After an hour, his sore throat compelled him to lie still and quietly. The quiet frightened him the most; silence allowed him to think, and thinking brought him closer to terms with reality. He laid there on the smooth stone planet for maybe an hour or two. The ground didn’t feel cold though, in fact it felt kind of warm. Soon he found himself laying facedown on the ground, spread out as though he were trying to capture the warmth. That odd warmth emanating from the planet filled the hug he so desperately needed; he realized then that he was indeed all alone. His parents, his grandparents, his neighbors, and his friends were all gone.
“Mom, I really am sorry for yelling at you.” Miles thought.
Despite the warm ground, the deep sorrow brought Miles to shiver, his teeth chattered loudly. His thoughts raced through all of things he wouldn’t have anymore;
“No more family, no more home, no more Wii, no more food, no more talking even.” He listed mentally.
He sat up stupefied, he had nothing left. Miles was certain that he would die of hunger now; his day just kept getting worse and worse. He tightly hugged himself; he was just skin and bones with a 100% cotton tee shirt.
While not known how it came to be, but Miles ended up naked somewhere near his fifth hour of being alone. It is believed that he wanted desperately something to remind him of his old life; so he took his shirt off to read:
“Small/ Chico. 100% Cotton/ Algadon. Wash in cold water, dry in low heat. Made in Mexico. Cotton proudly grown in the U.S.”
No one is certain why he needed to read the tag on his jeans; it wasn’t the most exciting thing Miles had ever read. But, apparently, he needed to read the sequel to The Pants Book also known as The Pants Book 2: Revenge of the Boxer Briefs. So, yes, he ended up naked, Miles was not proud of it necessarily. In fact, for a little while he felt really exposed, after about twenty minutes, however, he figured that he was the last person on the planet anyways. Miles would come to mostly regret not having any clothes on for this next part.
After five hours of lonesome sobbing, wretching, and streaking Miles was wandering the empty landscape, singing the same line over and over:
“One is the loneliest number that you ever knew.”
He eventually found the spot where he had been standing when the whole planet died, he knew it was the spot because his shoes had left foot-prints in the cement, Mile silently stood there looking out at the blank vista and wiped his eyes, he only had days to live until he died of dehydration, there was plenty of time to cry.
“I ought to pray or meditate.” He tried to calm himself down; he had already vomited whatever food he had in his stomach.
But as he thought this a glimmering object pierced the night’s sky, something was crashing to the Earth from outer space.
The spaceship was really shiny, it looked a lot like an icicle, and the whole ship resembled some sort of ice spear being thrown at Miles. He started to run as quickly as he could, ignoring the pain in his lungs he ran for cover. Of course, given the planet is completely void of any thing to hide behind he looked like an idiot ready for the slaughter. At this point Miles was ready to die; whether it was by humiliation, psycho-crow, and the extermination of Earth, hunger, or alien invaders.
Miles stopped mid-stride and faced the now-landing alien ship. He could see steam rise off of the frozen ship as landing pads lowered from its bottom.
“Hey I’m over here.” He shouted at the icicle. “Look at me, I’m alive!”
He walked closer to the spaceship, now convinced that he had gone insane.
“No. It’s a spaceship, it hovered for a while.” He assured himself.
Miles Hearst was not going to give into insanity. He looked around quickly to find my clothes;
“S***!” He said for the third time that day.
Miles’ clothes were underneath E.T.’s landing pod. He instead cupped his empty hands around his human extremities, embarrassed that he would be humanity’s ambassador to the great unknown. He hadn’t really considered that aliens might have been responsible for wiping out the Earth; in fact he was fairly certain he killed off all of the universe’s life. Miles had always been a little narcissistic, but somehow he was certain that he somehow blew-up the planet. He continued closer to the alien ship; trying to figure out where the windows or doors were. The whole ship was coated in ice;
“Maybe the doors are on the side.” He thought as the back end of the vessel hissed open.
From the backside of the icicle lowered a hatch, a tall slender figure started to walk down the ramp onto the planet’s surface. He would have screamed, but he was too scared to move or make a noise; instead Miles stood stone still with his mouth a gape and his hands beneath his waist.
Lalia Tarrus’s bright blue eyes faced him, and he knew.
“She recognizes me.” Somehow he was certain, but before he could say anything she raised a strange tool above her head.
She brought the tool down, her eyes glimpsed over him as he raised his arms in defense, she smiled slightly.
Chapter 3
Galio pulled back slightly on the throttle. The planet had indeed gone supernova, the tell-tell plasma interference was detectable on the sensors, but the planet existed in the core of the radiation. Lalia urged Galio to bring the shuttle into the atmosphere anyways. Somehow, she was convinced that this grey sphere had something to do with her dream, female instinct or something like that he figured.
Lalia stood and leaned with her hands holding her against the cockpit’s window, she peered down as the shuttle violently shook and shuddered through the atmosphere. The shuttle’s frame had exposed wires running the length of the ship, only the front-facing pilot’s console, smooth black swiveling chairs, and several chests and tubes gave the interior any semblance to a viable means of transportation. Lalia twisted the storage compartment’s handle and retrieved her survey suit; sealed tight to protect her from the planet’s intense pressure.
“The retro-thrusters haven’t kicked on yet and we are descending too quickly” Galio shrieked.
Lalia smiled beneath her orange-tinted visor; Galio always managed to panic over the minutest things.
“Where do we land?” Galio asked with a craned neck, his eyes fixed out the window.
“The coordinates I gave you are roughly the epicenter of the explosion. Curiously the explosion seemed to have come from the planet’s surface, rather than its core.” Lalia explained.
Worried, Galio faced her and made eye contact, fear filled in his.
“What does that mean? That this might not have occurred naturally? As in what?”
Lalia urged him to continue with her eyes, his lip quivered slightly.
“Is he looking at me differently?” She asked herself.
At a time Lalia had been the most important female Convoy member, but even after the scandalous fallout Galio remained.
“Why?” She wondered, “He is my friend, but is he looking for more?”
Lalia finally replied, aware that she had been quiet in thought too long; “Yes, there is the possibility that something caused the explosion. I think I may have caused this, I was walking on the planet’s surface in my dream.”
Satisfied, Galio turned back to his console and pulled a last lever; the ship shuddered and fell the last few feet unto the planet’s surface. Already in his large oversized survey suit, he scrambled over the passenger’s seat for a mask as Lalia pulled the hatch’s release knob. After a slight hiss the hatch slowly pivoted upward, revealing an endless grey vista. She cautiously took the first step, her boot firm on the hard smooth and surprisingly warm surface. Her helmet was picking up some sort of garbled static; the noise was not gibberish, but language she quickly discerned. She turned quickly to face the intelligent life form; a pitiful looking pale figure. The creature looked enough like a Callos for Lalia to recognize the special functioning organs; it stood on two legs, had red rimmed eyes, a gaping mouth, and humorously was covering its genitals. She held back a laugh; she reached with one hand for an electro-grafter usually reserved for fusing together faulty wire connections, but would work as a weapon should she need it. She would need it in this situation. The creature raised one hand from its cupped position into an open palmed greeting of some sort, and then split two fingers into a “V” shape. The creature was about to attack her, she readied her electro-grafter, the creature had the nerve to raise both hands, completely revealing it’s self, above it’s head in a defensive pose. She brought down the weapon unto the creature’s head; with a jolt it collapsed into a spasming ball. She called for Galio to retrieve the creature, he unwillingly obliged, closing his eyes and holding his nose away from the creature.
“This thing is utterly repulsive.” Galio gagged as he lifted the creature.
“Stop complaining, this is what I was looking for.” Lalia assured him excitedly.
The two Callos loaded the creature on to their shuttle, Lalia closed the hatch and tethered the creature with cables some technician had replaced but not yet thrown away, Galio flicked his console back on and fumbled with the throttle.
“Lets hurry back home!” Galio exclaimed with glee.
The ship raised its nose slightly but then abruptly fell; Lalia looked back at Galio with concern.
He turned to face her;
“Lalia, there is another Callos vessel with bearings in our direction. Someone is coming to get us.” He explained.
“Damn it! We can’t let them find the creature.” She cursed.
“What do think they are doing?” Galio asked in high-pitched voice, higher than his usual garble allowed.
“I don’t know. I think perhaps they have come to retrieve us. They may have noticed a shuttle left and might think some young Callos wanted an adventure.” Lalia proposed, trying to sound confident, but her voice gave away some of her anxiety.
The creature began to stir, it moaned loudly. Lalia hit it again over the head with her electro-grafter.
“Hide it!” She hissed urgently.
“We should wait for the shuttle to land here. I’ll explain why we we’re here, but do not mention we found a creature. Do not let them aboard the shuttle.” She added sternly, her eyes directed towards the radar. She handed Galio a gun; the weapon had a short handle and a long muzzle, two wings protruded from the sides with a slight upturn at the end of the barrel.
“Use it if you have to.” She told him, her eyes lingered on his a while longer. She undid the latch and exited the shuttle, sealing it behind her. She stood next to shuttle waiting.
The second Callos shuttle broke the atmosphere moments later, landing beside Lalia’s shuttle, Lalia could clearly recognize the pilot Alvar Tarr, the Admiral’s brother and trusted servant. Lalia left her visor on and walked unto the planet’s surface, she waited patiently for the hyper-cooled jets to warm before she approached the other shuttle. The fact that Alvar and whoever else was aboard the shuttle took their time to cool the repulsors and to open the rear hatch scared Lalia; they weren’t in a hurry to rescue anyone.
The shuttle’s hatch lowered half-way and Alvar jumped down in his survey suit. The hatch then quickly sealed back up, preventing Lalia from seeing who else was aboard the craft.
“Lalia Tarrus. My surprise, what are you doing away from the Convoy? Especially without having notified…well, anyone?” He asked in his smug deep voice.
“I wanted to ask you the same thing.” Lalia commented, but added “But, apparently you were busy sneaking around too.”
Alvar bit his lip; Lalia was one of the smartest Convoy members, he didn’t rival her intelligence. But he did have more connections as the brother to the Admiral, he could easily pull rank, but the fact remained that no one was allowed to leave the Convoy. Even with permission from the Admiral, Alvar’s task was unprecedented; the only reason he accepted was to gain some reputation and credibility himself. The soldiers aboard the shuttle betrayed this, to receive full credit he needed to handle this himself.
“I apologize my dear doctor. But CLERGY 5 reported a shuttle without clearance leaving for the supernova we sought to avoid entirely.” Alvar stalled, he needed to think.
He grinned and added: “Why did you leave your lab to visit a supernova? What was so important you left the Convoy, risking your and your assistant’s lives, to go see?”
Alvar craned his neck to see past Lalia to her shuttle, but the equally tall Lalia blocked his view. The two side-stepped each other until his back faced her shuttle.
“Well…”Lalia wasn’t sure how to respond. No one had ever been so far from the Convoy intentionally, she wasn’t seeking attention, but no doubt the women of the Convoy would see it that way.
She took her chances, she wanted to investigate the creature more closely, and the research could provide answers more valuable than her reputation.
“I wanted to draw attention to myself. I knew that a rescue party, “She started, but she then saw Galio struggling to put the creature in his survey suit, the creature unconsciously lay limp.
“So, here you are to rescue me. I am a stupid female, really, that was foolish of me. But, oh, the thrill of adventure.” She finished quickly.
Lalia was certain that Alvar was apart of no rescue party, he was likely sent to investigate the strange supernova too.
Her acting was pretty bad, but Alvar was the dumb brother, and likely would gladly accept being a hero. His stupid grin proved her right;
“Yes, I am here to rescue you. I’m happy to see you’re safe, it didn’t matter how far I would have to track you. Please, allow me to escort you back to the Convoy.” He said in his best imitation of a war hero, drawing on the memories of his ancestors who were much cleverer than he.
Lalia agreed to be led back to the Convoy, in fact she thought, it would make her reentry easier because she wouldn’t need to sneak her way back in. But Alvar added in his worst impression of a forlorn lover;
“Let me pilot your shuttle back for you, O, my lady.”
Lalia looked hesitantly back toward her own shuttle, seeing portions of Galio as though he was struggling with something. Alvar took a few strides toward her shuttle.
“Alvar, no. I can pilot my own shuttle back.” She asserted quickly to no avail.
“Alvar,” she said, holding onto his sleeve, “or I can ride back with you on your shuttle.”
“No.” he said sternly, as though he was hiding something, “No. You’ll ride in yours. I’ll fly it back.”
Lalia cringed as Alvar twisted the knob to open the hatch. The hatch hissed open and the two boarded the shuttle. Lalia gripped her electro-grafter just in case, though she was certain she couldn’t use it on a fellow Callos.
Galio swiveled in his pilot’s seat to face Alvar and Lalia, his face showed surprise at Alvar’s entrance. Galio wore no survey suit, rather only his bandage-like under wrappings remained, he maintained his mask and visor.
“Alvar? What are you doing here? Here to save us?” Galio chuckled.
Lalia strained to see through Galio’s visor, to make eye contact, but the creature was nowhere to be found.
Alvar addressed Galio sternly; “You piloted Doctor Tarrus away from the Convoy? Do you realize how foolish and dangerous that is? To a supernova no less!” his voice was more firm than Lalia would have thought possible. Alvar was no longer acting, he was serious; he was furious that Galio risked Lalia’s life.
Galio tried to defend himself; “Lalia insisted I take her out here. I followed her orders.”
“No. You will suffer the consequences. Pilot us both back, I will signal for my shuttle to leave first and provide escort. Then you will be put on trial before the Admiral for your foolishness.” Alvar demanded.
Lalia felt deeply sorry for putting Galio up to this, she had forced him to pilot her to the planet. Lalia was also scared; she had only been scared twice in her life; once when she learned she was infertile, and now that Galio was at risk. Her thoughts again returned to the creature, the cables were still missing; Galio had hidden the creature. Then Lalia noticed Galio was not wearing his survey suit anymore; the suit was hanging in its storage tube. Galio had clothed the creature in the suit and placed it in the tube.
Alvar signaled for his shuttle to escort Lalia’s ship back to CLERGY 1, Lalia and Galio would need to debrief with the Admiral. Lalia sat back in her passenger seat next to Galio. She strained herself to not look back at the hidden creature; Alvar braced himself by holding the cargo rope net on the ceiling, he was standing next to the tube where the creature was hidden.
“Thank you.” She whispered to Galio.
“No problem.” He answered, and then added “This thing had better be worth it.”
The last sentence was a little loud and Alvar took notice; he struck the back of Galio’s head.
“Shut up. Get us moving.” He ordered.
The shuttle made better time to the Convoy with Alvar’s sense of heroic urgency; whether or not Lalia had killed the creature she was not sure. However, the thing did not make any discernable movements the whole trip back.
Alvar leaned towards the survey suit’s tube;
“You should get this cleaned Galio. It smells like urine.” He laughed.
Galio looked at Lalia as they pulled into the hanger of CLERGY 1. The two made eye contact as the hatch door opened. Alvar proudly posing for the hanger workers to see him in his heroic glory.
“Phlasia help us both.” Lalia prayed.
Chapter 4
Alvar strode off of the shuttle, with an enormous smile, beaming heroic greatness.
“That’s right, I saved her.” Alvar muttered to himself, but he began to think; “From what? What exactly did I save her from?”
Alvar returned to the shuttle and pulled Galio out by the arm, Galio would serve as an excellent scapegoat. Alvar’s look towards Lalia told her that she was expected to follow.
“I’ll be right there. I need to update my lab staff of CLERGY 5.” She lied.
Alvar turned his head and led Galio into the hall towards the ship’s bridge, where Latarr waits. Lalia needed to think fast, she didn’t know how long she had until the creature would wake, but the maintenance team would most likely check and replace the survey suits when she left. Lalia made a quick glance around the hanger, a hanger worker was heading towards the shuttle, and she had to hide the creature carefully should it wake. She surveyed the hanger one last time and made a gutsy move; she reentered the shuttle and grabbed a holofoil. The holofoil reacted to the heat from her fingers as she typed furiously on it, a small holographic image of text appeared at the top of the sheet, she tore the frame around the holofoil face, allowing her to bend the flexible screen. She laid the holofoil over the survey suit’s tube. It would have to do.
Lalia confidently marched away from the shuttle;
“That might have been a stupid mistake, but now it is out of my hands.” She thought helplessly, “Hopefully Galio’s trial had not yet begin, he wouldn’t be able to defend himself, and he would likely be branded with the stigma and forced to live on CLERGY 6.”
Lalia briskly walked down the hall towards the bridge, the urgency on her pretty face enough for the bridge’s guards to recognize her status. Lalia Tarrus was still a powerful female Callos, she didn’t officially have clearance but no guard would deny the former wife of the Admiral. The large metal doors swung open for Lalia and she found herself in the brightly lit bridge; consoles with busy Callos typing lined the bow-shaped windows and the breezeway the Admiral usually strutted while thinking.
“The Admiral is in the Council Chambers, Doctor Tarrus.” A young Callos technician explained. Lalia recognized the young cadet.
“Thank you. Would you page him for me please? Tell him to expect me.” She asked.
“Yes, he is already expecting you. The trial will not begin without your presence.” He assured her.
Lalia was led by two of the bridge guards down to the far end of the hall from the bridge back past the hanger, the door to the hanger was closed, and she was unable to tell whether her plan had succeeded. She would know soon enough. The guards brought her to a platform, rushing air held the platform in place, once the guard waved his hand the heat sensitive sensor decreased the air pressure lowering the platform several floors until the Council Chamber was visible. Through the glass tube Lalia could see an enormous garden, gleaming crystal arches and walls separated the many diverse alien gardens in the chamber. A glass gazebo placed at the center of the garden provided both a religious sanctuary and judicial headquarters; the Admiral, Alvar, and Galio were waiting for Lalia.
The Admiral saw Lalia approaching and turned to face the projections of the five captains; he excused himself for a moment. The hologram of Doctor Melric followed;
“Yes sir?” He asked the Admiral.
“Lalia disobeyed direct protocol; she risked her life.” The Admiral began, anger rising in his voice.
“She must have done it for attention, yes.” Melric agreed.
“But she chose the wrong time to seek attention, she visited that planet.” Admiral Latarr said sadly.
“Right. Which means she needs to be contained until we know what she knows.” Melric assured the Admiral, “As long as Alvar doesn’t inform the other captains of what really happened, we can keep the whole situation to ourselves.”
The Admiral nodded his head in understanding and returned to the gazebo, he turned to face Lalia as she approached.
Lalia walked on the crystal paved bridge across the stream to the gazebo. Holograms of each of the six CLERGY vessel captains sat in a semi-circle as the Convoy’s Council. Each of Convoy’s captains served on the Council, the Council was the governing board of the Convoy. The elder Callos often whispered that the concept behind the captains was seeped in the old tradition; most of the old tradition had been erased, all but the memories of it; many Callos still frequented the Council Chamber to meditate.
Lalia approached the Council, avoiding eye contact with the Admiral.
Admiral Latarr began the procedure;
“Attention Council. Today, our Convoy adverted disaster by navigating around an unusual supernova. I broadcast this to each of our vessels. Yet, Doctor Lalia Tarrus and her lab assistant Galio Forrt took a shuttle and flew towards the supernova for attention seeking purposes, I can only presume.” The Admiral faced Lalia for confirmation, Lalia was unsure whether Alvar had explained that this was the cover story, or whether the Admiral was convinced this was the truth. Regardless Lalia nodded her head in agreement to the dissatisfaction of the renowned Council members. The Admiral continued;
“Doctor Tarrus was then instructed by my brother; rescue Captain Alvar Tarr, to return her shuttle back to the Convoy.” At this, Alvar straightened and put on his best smile. A few of the Council rolled their eyes they, too, knew that Alvar was a foolish sycophant to his brother.
Galio then asked sheepishly; “That is isn’t how I remember it Admiral?”
Lalia noted the fear in the Admiral’s eyes as he turned to face Galio;
“I am sorry?” the Admiral asked, “Did you say something? Does my account have error?”
Galio replied, even quieter this time; “Admiral, if we were intercepted in space, how is it then that Alvar boarded our vessel. Neither shuttles are capable of inter-vessel boarding in space.”
The Admiral’s neck grew darker as blood filled his temple; a vein bulged slightly on his forehead. But the color subsided with a sigh.
“I have made a mistake. No, that is right. According to Alvar’s account, there was a pursuit. Galio was holding Doctor Lalia Tarrus hostage.” Doctor Melric tried to recover, his eyes drifted over each of the other holographic projections.
Admiral Latarr nodded in agreement:
“I had misspoken, yes. Doctor Tarrus was a political hostage.”
Alvar’s jaw dropped, he couldn’t believe the praise he would receive.
Lalia called the Admiral on his lie;
“No. That’s not what happened. I forced Galio to pilot for me...”
The Admiral cut her off, with a curt glance to shut her up:
“Poor Doctor Lalia is sympathizing with her captor. Galio Forrt kidnapped her with the intentions of using her to blackmail me. Because we had been at one time married, he sought to use her…”
Lalia moved towards the Admiral, but the two guards who escorted her held her back:
“No! Don’t do this!” She screamed.
“Alvar’s quick thinking saved her life; he then ensured she returned safely to CLERGY 1.” The Admiral finished.
The Council members began to chatter amongst themselves; the former bride of the Admiral had been taken hostage by her crazed assistant. The stupid brother managed to save her life and apprehend the fiend. The Council was electric, this was not good news, but it was a break from the monotony. The captain of CLERGY 6, Elioc Barras, wasn’t as thrilled as the others; his vessel was dedicated to those whose ancestors broke the laws of the Convoy, as well as the living criminals and threats to society.
Lalia tried to talk the Admiral out of condemning Galio:
“Don’t do this. Galio did nothing wrong. I forced him to take me to the supernova; we landed our shuttle on the planet. It hadn’t blown up.”
The Admiral wouldn’t hear it:
“I forward the motion to have Galio Forrt arrested and deported to CLERGY 6. I want him to be placed in isolation,” Lalia interrupted;
“No, Galio is innocent. We landed on a planet out there where the supernova is.”
“I believe Doctor Lalia Tarrus should be given psychiatric treatment to bring her back to full mental health” Doctor Melric added.
Lalia was then grabbed by the crook of her arms by the guards; Alvar looked at her with contempt and disgust. She pleaded,
“Don’t do this. I don’t need hospitalization. I need a fair trial!”
The Admiral continued addressing the Council without interruption from Lalia as she was dragged away screaming. Galio’s head slumped down in shame as he quietly left behind the struggling Lalia.
The Council agreed to the terms proposed by the Admiral; Galio would be deported to CLERGY 6, Lalia would receive psychiatric treatment, and Alvar would receive a hero’s honor. Each of the six holograms turned to static and petered out; Alvar was dumbstruck and meekly followed his brother. The Admiral walked over to an exhausted and exasperated Lalia, still held back by two guards.
“I don’t understand why you are fighting this. I just made your life easier; I just protected you from a life aboard CLERGY 6. You get all the attention and sympathy you want, and no one needs to know about your little trip to the planet. Your captor-sympathy-syndrome will protect the integrity of your alibi and the charges against Galio.” He explained.
“You’re a tyrant! Why can’t people know there was a planet?” Lalia hissed.
Coolly the Admiral explained; “Because it would disrupt order. Such an event is not calculatable; this would drastically alter our people’s course. We are not explorers, nor are we scientists. Our soul purpose is to reach Phlasia intact. I don’t want you to jumpstart an era of question asking when we are on the brink of reaching Phlasia!” The Admiral spat.
Sobbing Lalia asked; “What happens when we reach Phlasia? We harvest, and then we leave. What is the point? Why not try something different.”
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