Alpha Rising (8 page)

The man entered with his hands resting on a
utility belt around his waist. He, too, wore a silver jumpsuit with
the same glowing golden icon over the heart. His weathered face,
framed by white hair and bushy brows, reflected wisdom of
generations past.

He stopped in front of Bach, just short of
where the pipe could reach. Bach couldn’t help but notice the
elderly man’s round wire trifocals and striking ice-blue eyes. The
old man spoke, “Friend, my name is Altemus. We know you’re from the
blue planet. We monitored the forcefield that brought you in but
couldn’t prevent enemy intervention. Your crewmates fell into the
wrong hands.”

Bach tapped the pipe against his open left
hand. His eyes darted from Altemus to Star. “Where are they?”

“
On the continent of
Ulwor.”

“
Will I see them
again?”

“
Doubtful,” said the
elder.

“
What’s gonna happen to
them? I’ll rescue them,” he said without waiting for an
answer.

Altemus stepped forward, gripped Bach’s
shoulders and nailed his steely blue eyes to the earthling’s.
“Listen. You’ll not see them again. But you’ll be safe with us in
Dura. What’s your name?”

Bach tried to inch backward, but bumped into
the wall. “Bach, Bach Turner.”

Wiping his hands on his hips as if to dry
them, Altemus looked Bach up and down. “You’re wet from the lake.
Call yourself twice blessed my friend, eluding the enemy and
escaping the death lake.”

“
Death lake?”

“
Yes. That’s one of two
phases. It’s obviously not in death mode now, but if it were, and
you had stuck in even a finger, it would have been
liquefied.”

Bach swallowed hard.

“
Hurry now. Are there
belongings you want to bring?”

Bach scanned the rubble-strewn cabin. “A
few.”

Altemus sighed. “Time is critical. May I
help?”

“
Uh, no. I don’t have
much.”

Searching for possessions, Bach noticed Star
and her father kneeling beside Faith’s body.

Altemus looked at Bach, “Someone will come
soon to bury your friend.”

Bach stared at his lifeless crewmate.
“Nothing seems wrong. She just stopped breathing. Are you going to
bury her at … at Dura?”

Star helped her father to his feet and shook
her head. “We can’t risk contamination. We have stringent
prevention measures regarding illness and disease since the
Specter’s biological warfare.”

“
The Specter?”

“
Ulwor’s dark power, the
embodiment of evil, a master of seduction, and lord of the
Rooks—Rulers of other kingdoms,” she replied.

Rulers of other
kingdoms?
Bach tried to process Star’s
words.

Altemus motioned to him. “Get your
belongings.”

Bach tossed a few things into a pillowcase,
slung it over his back, and reluctantly took his last breath inside
the AstroLab as he stepped from the ship. Two feet out, he stopped
short, gawking. The aliens’ ship looked like an oversized,
mechanized dragonfly with translucent blue and green wings
extending from a long, tapered body. The cockpit’s dark convex
windows were positioned as eyes in a bug’s head. “A
dragonfly-principled spacecraft?” he mumbled aloud.

Altemus led Bach forward by the arm. “We’ll
bring you up to speed on our planet when we reach Dura, our home
continent.” He rested a hand on Bach’s back. “We’ll not harm
you.”

Struggling to digest what seemed surreal,
Bach looked at the lake. “One more thing,” he said, “I’d like to
retrieve my journals; two are still in the water. Will I liquefy if
I go back in?”

Altemus shook his head. “It’s obviously safe
today.”

Bach raised his eyebrows. “How do you know
when it’s a death lake?”

“
I have a way of
determining the phases; or you can find out the hard way. I’ll
explain later.”

Star stepped to Bach’s side. “Will your
books be usable after submersion?”

“
Yes. They seal
hermetically when we close them, and we use a space ink and paper
unaffected by water, heat, or light. I can’t leave them behind.” He
headed to the lake, adding over his shoulder, “That information
could help establish a link between our civilization and
yours.”

While waiting for Bach to retrieve the books
from the lake, Star and Altemus returned to the earthship and
wrapped Faith’s body in the blanket that had covered her, then
carried her outside to a nearby sand dune and prepared a resting
place.

It took Bach seven dives into the hissing
lake to find both journals. Emerging waterlogged, breathless, and
trailing a froth of bubbles, he put the books in the pillowcase
with his belongings then headed to the mound where Altemus and Star
had taken Faith’s body.

Altemus poured the final container of sand
on the grave.

Bach swallowed a lump in his throat and
said, “Thank you for taking care of her. I didn’t want to leave her
alone in the ship.”

Altemus steadied himself with a hand on his
daughter’s shoulder and struggled to stand. He turned to Bach.
“Your crewmate’s upper vertebrae were shattered and her spinal cord
was severed at the base of the brain.”

Bach hesitated. “How could you tell?”

He pulled an instrument from his utility
belt that looked like a fat ballpoint pen with a clear marble on
the tip. A viewscreen ran the length. “Body scanner,” he said.

Filled with sorrow yet relieved to know
Faith hadn’t died by diabolical means, Bach closed his eyes for a
moment, then blurted out, “Wait, please,” and bolted to the
AstroLab.

Huge strides carried him up the ramp. He
grabbed Faith’s Bible and ran back to the gravesite while flipping
through the dog-eared pages to find a suitable passage to read at
his copilot’s wake. But he soon closed the worn leather cover and
dropped his arms to his sides. “I don’t know where to look.” Head
bowed, he recited the Twenty-third Psalm, “The Lord is my
shepherd….” Then he kissed his fingertips and touched Faith’s
grave.

Altemus and Star knelt and held hands. Star
first prayed aloud, “Almighty Creator of the universe and our hope
for eternal life, please save her soul,” then she drew a circle on
the sandy grave with her finger. Altemus retraced it.

Trying to understand the significance of the
circle, Bach stood with the Bible tucked under one arm and his
hands poked into his pockets. But when he felt Faith’s cross and
chain in the soft lining, his focus changed. He handed the Bible to
Altemus and, without words, pulled the necklace from his pocket.
Struggling to speak, he showed his rescuers the cross. “This
belonged to Faith. It’s symbolic of God’s love.”

Altemus glanced at Star. He touched the
cross and squinted his pale blue eyes as if trying for a better
look. “God? Interesting.”

Bach stepped to Star’s
side. “I want you to have it. Faith would have loved sharing it
with another civilization.” He dangled the chain between his
fingers and stepped behind her to drape it around her neck. While
fumbling to secure the tiny clasp under her dark hair, a
pleasurable, almost intoxicating fragrance emanating from her skin
seemed to overpower him. He closed his eyes and pressed closer to
her hair.
Fresh spring rain on flowers.
No, more like the mist from a rainbow, or the blossoms on an apple
tree.
Wanting to prolong the experience, he
used clumsiness as a ruse. “Sorry,” he said, “can’t seem to secure
it.”

Star’s hands slid along the chain to his.
She fastened the clasp, then lifted the cross in her hand to
examine it. “Fascinating.” She caressed its smooth surface, then
pulled a golden chain from under the neckline of her jumpsuit. A
crystal circle the color of a sunbeam hung from it. The strange
circle looked electrified. She held it up for Bach to see. “This
eternity symbol represents the tunnel of light where we communicate
with and worship our Creator.”

Bach stared. The golden
circle had the same powerful illumination as the one on her
jumpsuit. Trying to understand, he replayed her words in his
mind.
“This eternity symbol represents the
tunnel of light where we communicate with and worship our
Creator.”

Star slid Faith’s cross back and forth on
its chain and positioned it on top of her eternity symbol. The
cross fit exactly within the open circle.

Altemus spoke up. “Time to go.”

*****

CHAPTER TEN

Inside the dragonfly rescue craft, Bach sat
behind Altemus in a gel-filled jumpseat that instantly conformed to
the shape of his body. He’d already overdosed on incredulity, so
the weird seat and a cockpit filled with flickering lights,
suspended tubes, video screens, something that looked like an empty
picture frame, and voice- and touch-activated gadgetry hardly fazed
him. With Star at the controls and Altemus manning surveillance,
the dragonfly levitated with a gentle swish, then the wings
retracted and it shot like a bullet through the dark sky.

On the ride to Dura, Bach felt like a kid
wanting answers to a hundred questions but was too bewildered to
ask. Everything, including conversation, moved at a pace almost too
fast to grasp. But something Altemus had said a few minutes earlier
stuck in his thoughts and he wanted to know more. “Altemus. You
mentioned that you studied life forms on planets in other galaxies
through surveillance technology. What did you think of Earth, the
blue planet as you called it?”

Altemus paused before answering. “We found
the technology primitive, but saw potential for advancement to a
more sophisticated level with proper guidance. We tried repeatedly
to make electronic contact with your communications equipment, and
easily adapted to your language, but never received a
response.”

Bach mulled over the
information.
How could these guys see
details on Earth? They’d have to have something better than our
interferometers.
A new perspective of his
rescuers came with a pang of fear, but he had to ask, “How advanced
is your civilization in comparison?”

“
If we measured
intelligence as is done on your planet,” Altemus replied, “our
results would be superior by four times.”

“
Intelligence four times
higher than ours?”

“
Correct. But now our
progress is slowed by limited resources.”

Bach nervously digested the
information.
These people are far smarter
than genius level on Earth?
He suddenly
asked Altemus, “Will you tell me about the lake now?”

“
You may find it
confusing,” the elder replied. “The death lake has two irregular
cycles. They’re identical in appearance, but opposite in
consequence. At times, like now, it’s pure with antiseptic
properties we depend on for periodic cleansing of ourselves from
contaminants—a preventive measure. However, medicinal properties
can’t heal once disease sets in. Other times it transmutes to a
deadly phase, when ionized microorganisms break into lethal enzymes
that feast on living matter. Death is agonizing, but swift.
Eventually, the enzymes consume themselves, save a scant few, and
the lake becomes pure—but only temporarily. The big boulder out
there is a fusion of metals, synthetics, and other undigested
matter.”

Bach thought about his time in the lake and
squirmed a little. “You said you have a way to determine the deadly
phases?”

“
We’ll go over that later,”
Altemus said.

The trip to Dura may have taken minutes, or
hours, Bach couldn’t tell. He’d lost perspective of time in the
presence of planet Jenesis’s scientific patriarch, and the most
beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

During his short ride in the dragonfly, Bach
got a brief look at a portion of the crater-pocked planet, but when
the ship descended through a shallow mountainous region, he tried
not to react to the surreal sight dead ahead of three sprawling
blue-white superstructures, in a horseshoe configuration, perched
on the horizon. The pentagonal-shaped buildings looked like huge
crystal prisms. As the ship drew nearer, the prisms’ exteriors lit
up and hundreds of spines of eye-blinding blue light flashed across
the golden planet like high-intensity searchlights. “Oh, my gosh,”
he whispered under his breath, trying to take it all in. “It looks
like a theme park’s futureland.”

Altemus chuckled. “Lots of surprises, huh?”
He didn’t wait for Bach’s answer. “The three structures are
Skyprisms. They comprise the civilized area on our continent, Dura.
The one on the left is the operations space center, the middle
one’s for shelter and dining, and the third one’s for training and
recreation. The blue lasers are surveillance and defense systems
that detect emissions of airborne and land-roving craft. We use a
unique fuel at Dura, so foreign spacecraft identification is
easy.”

Skyprisms? Unique
fuel?
Bach’s thought processes pegged to
the red zone.

“
At one time the Skyprisms
levitated above the terrain,” Altemus added, “but things here have
changed.”

Nearing the space center, Star extended the
dragonfly’s layered wings. The ship cut through the air without
producing the slightest sensation as it powered down. From the
bug-eyed windows, Bach saw that they were heading toward a
holographic blue door in the operations Skyprism. But as they came
in for a landing he worried that they were flying too fast and the
door wouldn’t open in time. He braced for impact. When the ship
slowed to a stop, he looked back toward the closed door and
mumbled, “Oh, my God. We flew right through it!”