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Authors: Bianca D'Arc

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BOOK: Harry's Sacrifice
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“Do you see anyone else here? It’s us or nobody. No one else is coming through that portal until we come out, and we’re not getting out until these guys wake up.”

“Very well.” Cormac sounded resigned as Harry started pressing buttons. It was pretty straight forward. Alvian tech hadn’t changed all that much since the time of Hara.

Harry got a little breathless at the idea of meeting his progenitor in the flesh. What would he think of what his race had done to the Earth Hara had known? What would he think of their lack of emotion? Most troublesome, what would he think of Harry?

Percival’s controls were activated first. Harry wanted to be sure he had the sequence right before he tried it on Hara. Whoever this Percival guy was, he got to be the guinea pig. Ro and Cormac watched Harry’s every move, and he could see Cormac nod as Harry touched each button. Between the three of them, they’d do the best they could for these ancient Alvians.

The wall in front of them suddenly glowed a little brighter. The illumination came from within as the wall turned first translucent and then transparent. Harry saw into the chamber behind the transparent barrier. It was about three feet wide by seven feet long. Big enough for a body.

It was as if that thought conjured the real thing. As the illumination continued to increase bit by bit, the outline of a body suspended in some sort of translucent gel or liquid became clearer.

“I suspect that’s our friend, Percival,” Harry muttered.

“You are no doubt correct,” Cormac agreed needlessly.

As they watched, the process seemed to take on a life of its own. Harry’s fingers on the control podium had started a process that now continued at its own pace. The light increased but never reached what Harry would consider full daylight brightness. The levels of light were kept much lower than that, possibly to assist the sleepers in acclimating to being roused after so long a sleep.

A slight whirring sound started somewhere inside the lit chamber and the amber-tinted fluid began to drain as the tank holding it and Percival’s body rotated forward so that he was in a more or less sitting position. Gravity helped the thick fluid drain somewhere near his feet. Many small tubes shot forward from the sides of the container and appeared to suction off the rest. They could see the outline of all this through the backlit, translucent tank, but not the detail of Percival’s face or form.

A sound of wheezing was replaced by coughing as fluid continued to be expelled from his body. It wasn’t a comfortable thing to have to listen to. Harry could see the man’s body jerking as the last of the liquid was forced from his lungs. Harry didn’t rest easy until the coughing subsided and he heard the sound of normal breathing.

It sounded like Percival had come through the ordeal. Harry almost feared what would come next. How long had this man been in stasis? Had his body aged? Had they revived him only to have him die of extreme old age a minute later?

Harry took a deep breath for courage. There was only one way to find out.

“Percival?”

A trembling hand pressed against the inside of the translucent tank, pushing it forward. It came open with a slight hiss of pressure change, and the top of the tank slid away to reveal a male of indeterminate age. He had the pointy ears of an Alvian but his slick hair was dark and his eyes were green. His chest was bare and his lower body was encased in gear connected to the tank with opaque tubing. No doubt something to do with his bodily functions. More than that, Harry didn’t care to speculate.

Overall, his body looked well preserved and as if he probably hadn’t aged much since being put into stasis. Harry’s fears were relieved. Still, there was bound to be some difficulty dealing with a man from centuries long past.

“Hello, Harry.” The warm tone and English words surprised him, as did this ancient man’s use of Harry’s human name.

“Do I know you?” Harry found himself asking. There was something familiar about the man, but there was no way he could have ever met this guy before. Not when he’d been in stasis for longer than Harry had been alive.

“Not yet. But I know you.”

A smile lifted one corner of Percival’s mouth, and Harry knew at that moment, without a doubt, this ancient had the full measure of emotion. Harry could feel it with the small bit of empathic talent he had. This Percival was both happy and sad to meet Harry.

“You speak the current language,” Cormac observed. “How is this? According to my research, you should have been buried here for many, many centuries.”

“Ah. Yes. Well, we set the ship to keep us updated on current events. You can put every part of a body into stasis except the psychic mind. Those of us of mixed heritage needed something to keep us busy while we waited. And waited and waited.” He chuckled lightly, though it was clear his body was weak. His words came haltingly, though he seemed to be gaining strength as time went on.

“So you’re aware of what’s been going on?” Harry asked.

“Aware and powerless to stop it. Until now.” A hint of steel entered his voice. “And you three will help us do it. Thank goodness, the waiting is over.” Percival straightened a bit and appeared to take stock of the equipment still covering his lower body. “It will take a few hours for this stasis pod to complete the restart of my bodily functions. I suggest we wait until I’m out completely before we wake the big guy. I want to be able to help should something go wrong.”

“You know that Dugan is dead.” Cormac said without a hint of tact.

Percival smiled sadly. “He has been gone a very long time. I was with him on the psychic plane when he passed. His only regret was that he had not been able to last long enough to meet you, Harry, and see the rebirth of both races.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t have a chance to know him. Was he the Oracle that sent you into stasis?”

Percival smiled again. “Good guess, but it wasn’t just Dugan alone. There were many factors that went into this plan, but ultimately it was your many-times-great-granddad’s decision. I’m sure you’ll hear all about it when we get him out of the goo.”

Harry understood why it was probably better to be certain Percival was completely okay before starting the awakening process on Hara, but it still nagged at his impatience. He’d come so far to start this ball rolling. The human race had suffered so much. Even the Alvians had lost their way so badly. The world needed Hara and the hope he would bring to both races. Harry didn’t want to wait any longer to bring the vision of Hara’s rising to fruition.

“Stay cool, Harry,” Percival counseled. “You can be patient for just a while longer.”

“You’re an empath?” Harry looked at the man skeptically.

“I’ve got most of the same gifts you have, but probably a touch more empathy,” Percival confirmed. “Tell you what. The next part of the reanimation process is a bit gross, so why don’t you three go look around the crew compartment. There’s food in the galley. Have a bite. I’ll send a chime when I’m out and ready for help getting around. My legs will require a bit of rehabilitation before they’ll support my weight again. The tank sustains muscle tissue but nothing can replace movement and weight-bearing exercise.” Percival grimaced as the machine began to whir to life once more. Stage two was about to begin. “Roshin, why don’t you tell Harry and Cormac about your background while you eat? I think they’ll be very interested in exactly who and what you are. The time for secrets is over.”

Ro’s eyes went wide, but she remained silent. Interesting. Percival had hit a nerve. Little Miss Innocent was hiding something, and Percival knew what it was.

More noises issued from the machinery Percival was still hooked to and Harry wanted to be certain leaving him was the right thing to do.

“Are you sure you’ll be all right?”

“I’m a physician. Who do you think designed this plan?” Percival shot Harry a chiding look.

“There was only a one in three chance you would be woken first,” Cormac observed.

“I didn’t say it was a perfect plan.” Percival squirmed a bit when something attached to the machinery that encased his legs began to pulse. “I figured if Hara woke first, he’d ask for me. Same with Dugan. Either way, I would have eventually been reanimated so I could help the others.”

“But you’re very weak,” Ro spoke in her quiet way. “What if you should require assistance while we are eating?”

“You will only be one compartment away,” Percival argued. He reached out and touched a control pad on the wall to his right. “There. I’ve set the com to alert you if I need assistance. Now, if you’ll please go. There are some things a man needs to do in private.”

Harry didn’t like leaving him but understood. “We’ll be in the galley.”

Percival didn’t answer as Harry shooed the others from the hall into the compartment next door. The lights came on as they entered and a gleaming white table and bench seating awaited them. Harry looked around, opening cupboards and peering into containers.

Cormac took what looked like a guard position near the door. The man was observing, not relaxing, and it set Harry’s nerves on edge.

“Look, Cormac, we’re stuck here for however long it takes to get Hara up and running again. Would you please sit down?”

Cormac proved to be reasonable and sat without much further coaxing. They ate some surprisingly well-preserved ration bars while they waited.

“It appears as if Alvian technology didn’t progress much after these guys left,” Harry said as they sat at the table eating. “Most of this looks familiar and not too antiquated.”

“Astute observation,” Cormac replied, looking again at their surroundings. “I have studied this phenomenon in some detail. Technological advances were made among our people on a steadily increasing basis right up to the point where we started changing our genetic structure. It is a well-established fact. Since the gene alteration, breakthroughs in science and technology have slowed. Artistic endeavor has almost completely disappeared. Music, literature and other creative arts have few, if any, innovators among the current Alvian populace. We occasionally perform the great musical compositions or dance performances of the past, but nobody is creating anything new—and hasn’t for a very long time.”

“And that doesn’t seem wrong to you?” Harry paused to ask. Cormac’s recital of this information was a matter of fact. Like almost all Alvians, he couldn’t seem to work up any emotion even as he discussed the loss of his culture.

“Academically, I know it is a great problem and could foretell the end of Alvian evolution. Perhaps the end of Alvian civilization.” Cormac frowned, taking Harry by surprise. He seemed to struggle with his next words. “On a personal level, I feel we have gone astray as a race. I know it isn’t wise to speak against the Council’s decisions, but as we are far from potential observation and faced with a unique opportunity, I do not mind being candid with you, Harry. Please record my words kindly, Roshin 72, if you must record them at all.” He smiled at the woman who sat between them watching all.

“I’m astounded and glad to hear you say such things, Cormac. You know my sister married Chief Engineer Davin, right?”

“I have heard such is the case,” he affirmed.

“Davin has feelings. He’s a throwback to what Alvians used to be. And I can say with conviction that his deep emotion and creativity is far preferable to the emotionless cocoon in which you all live. I’m half human and half Alvian. I feel, and I worry for both races.”

Cormac eyed Harry with renewed respect and understanding. They had apparently reached some kind of détente. Good. Progress was being made.

Harry didn’t know where that progress would lead them all, but he was hopeful. If the visions he and his uncle had been having were to come to fruition, it would be a difficult road, but one that would lead to the salvation of both races who now shared the Earth.

A slight whirring sound in the hall alerted them to the arrival of Percival, now ensconced in a small, hovering chair. The ancient Alvian smiled as he approached the table under the chair’s power.

“I’m glad to see you all getting along.” Percival gave them an approving smile.

“How are you feeling?” Roshin asked, surprising Harry with her polite concern.

Most Alvians didn’t consider the feelings of others because most Alvians had no feelings to consider. It was interesting that Roshin would ask such a question of someone she knew was quite different from herself. Usually, such behavior indicated someone who spent a lot of time among humans. Harry stowed that thought away for later consideration.

“I am much better, thank you for asking. My legs will take some time to recover. Until then, the hover chair will suffice for my needs. All stasis pods are equipped with them for just such instances.”

“Are you well enough to begin the process of waking Hara?” Cormac asked.

“Indeed. Shall we go back to the stasis units? It’s about time we got him involved.” Percival’s chair led the way back down the corridor.

Waking Hara was much the same as when they had awakened Percival. Percival did the honors, pushing the buttons in sequence and elevating a monitoring station Harry and his group had not known how to operate. Harry couldn’t read the ancient writing, but Cormac seemed quite interested in the readouts. He even unbent enough to ask Percival a few questions as the process commenced. They held a mostly scientific discussion while the covering on Hara’s stasis chamber went from opaque to translucent.

Harry realized he was holding his breath as the outline of the man came into focus. He couldn’t see his face of course, but from the broad shoulders and tall form of the outline, Harry started to get a picture of what Hara looked like—and why Percival insisted on calling him
the big man
. Hara was a foot taller than Percival and broader in shoulder and chest. His legs were heavily muscled as were his arms.

Hara was a giant. Okay, not a giant in the traditional sense of the word. He wasn’t big enough to stomp on someone, but he was taller than most Alvians and Breeds. He was also more muscular.

“Was Hara an athlete?” Roshin gave voice to the thoughts all three of them must have been having.

BOOK: Harry's Sacrifice
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