Thera (3 page)

He could not ask the survivors of Camelot to trek to a more habitable location across a scalding desert. The size of the teleporters would limit what they could bring with them, and when they left Avalon, they would be leaving behind most of their modern conveniences, including transportation. No more shuttle crafts or four-wheel buggies. They would be doing their traveling on foot.

The more appealing option was another trip in the teleporter to the secondary address, and see what the universe held for him. But, to explore that option he needed to be in two places at one time.

Falkor was already showing signs of recovery. When Al came to move him to the outpost, his head came up, and he forced a squeak from his mouth.

“It’s alright little guy, we’re going to a place where you can get better,” said Al.

Now his eyes matched his green skin, and within them was a look of understanding. The little dragon did not try to escape the basket and surveyed his surroundings with curiosity as Al carried him to one of the sleeping cubicles.

The smoky screen that typically served as a door to the room was gone, the power necessary unavailable. The loss of the protective screen would help the dragon from feeling confined, and would allow it to come and go as it pleased. It was a good place to stay until they left.

Al pulled the bedclothes off and dusted as best he could, laid his jacket down, and made a place for the dragon to rest. When he lay him down, he got a lick on his hand. Falkor was starting to feel better, and Al was encouraged.

He left the half-full cup of water and pieces of the food bar within reach and went out exploring the ancient outpost.

He searched primarily for food and water and found what he expected—nothing. Everywhere he looked there were signs of a sudden departure. Plates and bowls still sat on the dinner tables. Residue rings inside glasses, left by long evaporated liquids waiting for the owner’s return.

He tried all the food replicators and was not surprised to find them silent and unusable. The tiny robots that were designed to maintain the facility had stopped cleaning and repairing decades ago, which explained a lot of the station’s condition.

There were hundreds of the square one-inch data cubes in the library, but he could not access the database without power to the readers.

It’s probably in a language I can’t understand
, he reasoned, trying not to feel overly concerned about the lost opportunity. In the slot of one reader, he found a cube that was still in the machine. It was the only unit that was loaded and it appeared to have been in use when the power went out. He removed it and stuffed it into his pocket. When he got back to Overlook Mountain, maybe the computer could translate its contents and tell him what happened here.

That’s right Al, keep planning for the future.

He found an odd looking pistol that he assumed was a type of laser weapon; the power source long since drained. It was inside a small maintenance room, laying on the floor as if dropped there.

Al felt there was a story here. Something unexpected and horrible.

Three days passed, and Falkor was feeling well enough to begin investigating his surroundings. With his wings folded across his back, he gingerly explored the sleeping room, watching Al the whole time to see how he reacted. When Al saw this, he figured it was time they left. The dragon was out of danger.

There was only one logical conclusion for him to make. Against the advice of Doctor Cody, his roboticist Edward Florida, and his wife, Al would have to attempt something he was not sure would work.

When he came here, he noticed a two-second delay between the time Edward pushed the transport button and his disappearance. He hoped to use that time to make his escape. His plan was to press the button, run like crazy, and dive into the transport chamber. If he were unsuccessful, Falkor would go without him to a strange new world. There was also the added concern that he did not know how the teleportation would affect him in his enhanced state.

The dragon seemed eager to leave, and when Al placed him inside the door of the cube, he curled up in the corner out of the way as if he knew what was coming.

Al programmed the secondary coordinates into the console and took one last look around. This world was a place better left to the ghosts. He touched the button and ran.

The boy looked both ways when he reached the door and then silently entered the church; carefully closing it behind him. He was surprised the door was unlocked and relieved. It was late, and he was not supposed to be here, but he needed his jacket.

The weekly worship service had ended hours ago, and almost all had gone home. He knew that King Agenor lived somewhere in the palace, along with the enlightened ones that served him, but his hope was they were occupied elsewhere.

The boy did not risk turning the lights on and pulled from his pocket a small, powerful light he received only a week ago for his twelfth birthday. It was a miraculous device his father must have paid dearly for, and the best present he could remember.

He had no idea how the silver tube worked. He only knew that when he pressed the soft button at its end, a tiny sun would shine out the other. It was a magical gift that would now assist him in his quest. He brushed the golden-brown hair from his eyes and concentrated on his goal. What he wanted more than anything was to get in as quietly as possible, find his jacket, and get out.

Dusty Forman had been here many times, but never in the dark, and although he was taller than his peers, and usually managed to act older, this visit was more than a little frightening. He hurried towards the front of the theater where he and his father had been sitting and began the search for his misplaced coat. The beam from the light flashed back and forth, looking for a patch of pale blue in the sea of red seats. He could not see it.

Panic rose, and he thought,
It is not here!

He swung the light around, his eyes wide as the circle of light pried into the dark recesses surrounding him. When the beam turned in the direction of the clear box in the center of the room and exposed the inside of the sacred glass chamber, it stopped. Dusty froze; shocked to see a man sleeping on the floor inside the box. In the corner, watching him intently, sat a miniature dragon.

The jacket was forgotten. The impulse to flee took over, and Dusty left the temple in a hurry; running as fast as possible to tell his Father. “Father, a stranger sleeps inside the sacred chamber—and with him is a dragon!”

He received some raised eyebrows when he told his story, and the look of disbelief was unmistakable on his father’s face.

“Truly father, I am not lying. They are there.”

His father had little reason to believe his son would lie, but what he said was hard to accept. “Do you know what you are saying? There is no way into the sacred chamber. No one has ever been inside.”

“Please, Father—hurry—come see!”

“What you say is impossible. There are no dragons except in fairy tales. Do you feel all right?”

Darius Forman had worked all day at his blacksmith shop and then spent two hours at church. He was tired. Darius watched his son’s face for a moment, and then gave in. It was not like Dusty to beg for anything, but it was apparent he would not stop until his father accompanied his son and reassured him that his mind was playing tricks on him.

He doused the fire he started for their supper, locked the door, and allowed his son to pull him to the Temple of Enlightenment.

Dusty’s father was a common man, with common sense, that did not believe all the teachings that spouted from the pulpit of the Temple. Still, he was uncomfortable being in this holy place after hours. He, like his son, wanted to get in and out quickly. It was a building of miracles and mysteries, and the old writings contained many strange stories about the things that have occurred here.

Darius was shorter than Al, but of a wiry build, with a thick mop of auburn hair and hazel eyes. He looked both ways at the door as his son had done, and they snuck inside. Using the flashlight to light their way down to the bottom of the amphitheater, they approached the glass chamber and found Al sitting up, looking dazed. There was no sign of a dragon.

The young boy’s father immediately sank to the floor and prostrated himself, signaling his son to follow his example. The traveler had returned and would require worship.

When the inputs from his body overwhelmed his brain, an automatic response was initiated. His body would shut down, and Al would go to sleep. This overload condition happened after he jumped into the teleporter. Usually, his systems would reboot after thirty minutes, but this time, the process took a little longer.

When Al awoke, he was greeted with a buzzing in his head and a pounding headache. His vision returned slowly and progressed from blurry blobs to clarity. When his vision cleared enough to understand what was before him, he found a boy and a man, with a bright light laying on the floor beside them pointed in his direction. He looked for the dragon, but it appeared he was alone in the box.

He whispered, “Falkor? Where are you?”

In the same place where he was when they left Avalon, the corner acquired color and became a green dragon, a very relieved dragon that flapped its wings and squeaked.

“Shhh—you must be quiet Falkor. It’s bad enough they saw me. If they see you, they might freak-out.”

Al did not need to say more. Falkor looked at the two lying on the floor and seemed to understand. He disappeared again.

While watching the two figures, Al slowly stood. They did not look up, and their noses remained touching the floor. A glance around the chamber located a glowing blue button that he knew would open the door.

He thought,
Here I go again with first contact. I hope it goes better than the last time.

Once before, he had met the people inhabiting an alien world for the first time, and it could have gone better. He and Elizabeth were caught unprepared, and with the language barrier they did not accomplish much. The meeting ended with the Earthlings giving the natives chocolate and telling them to go home. He was not trained in this area and preferred to leave further contact to the professionals.

This occasion was similar in one regard; he had to get them up off the ground to speak to them. Al touched the button and the door appeared. As he stepped outside, he felt something brush his pant leg and knew the lizard was following.

He told them to stand up. They were too frightened to even look up, so Al insisted. “Please stand up, I will not harm you, and I am not what you think,” he offered.

The man stood with reluctance and the boy soon after.

He could not expect to make them understand, but he had to try, “My name is Al Clark. I’m an explorer, and my travels have brought me here. Can you tell me what you call this planet?”

Darius was confused, but replied, “You have returned to the land of Thera, my lord. We have awaited your return for many years.”

For a fleeting second, it registered the stranger was speaking English, but Al moved on, “My return?—what do you mean?”

“Are you not The Traveler?”

“I am sorry, but—,” and then his leg gave out, causing him to crash to the floor. The transport to this planet had affected the computer’s interface between body and mind, and his headache was getting worse.

“Come Dusty; we must take him home. He is not well,” said Darius.

He half walked and was half carried to the small, modest shack the Forman’s called home. No one saw them as they hurried up the street, and behind them, tiny footprints appeared in the dirt as Falkor tried to keep up.

Al woke up to the smell of bacon and biscuits. The bed he woke up in consisted of stacked layers of fur pelts, upon a frame made of wood. The room was small, with a dirt floor and one small glass window allowing morning light to flood the interior. A wooden table occupied a corner and held a bowl of water with a towel next to it. Above the table was a small shelf with three ragged books—written in English.

The trip to this house in the dark was a blur to Al, and he had little opportunity to make an assessment of the town before he collapsed onto the bed. His systems had made him sleep to recalibrate the link between body and mind, and it apparently worked. The buzzing in his head and the headache was gone, and he was moving without difficulty.

Al whispered, “Falkor…are you here?”

He heard a soft squeak at the end of the bed, and the dragon appeared. He rose from his place in the dirt and came to sit before Al. Al looked for signs of illness and saw none. “Are you okay?”

The creature tilted his head and blinked, and then walked a tight circle to return to his sitting position.

Al smiled and said, “Feeling better huh?”

Falkor flapped his wings twice, lifting his taloned feet off the ground.

“Looks like it, but I need you to stay here for the time being so I can prepare them for meeting you. I will bring you some food as soon as possible. Can you do that?”

It was hard to tell if he understood, by the look of his face, but he settled back down and disappeared. When Al opened the door and walked into the main room, both natives turned to face him and bowed.

“Let’s get something straight right away. I am not a god, or a lord, or anything like that. I am a man like you—from a different planet. There will be no bowing or kissing the floor.”

Darius dared to speak, asking with trepidation, “You are not the Traveler?”

I am
a
traveler, but probably not
the
traveler you think I am. Tell me about this traveler.”

Both man and boy looked up, surprise apparent on their faces. Darius finally got a good look at his guest and simultaneously realized he was acting rudely. In a rush of words, he said, “I have been remiss of my manners. Please sit, and eat with us.”

The two men sat at the worn table, and Dusty served them. While filling Al’s plate, he risked a question of his own, “What has happened to the dragon, kind sir?”

The question surprised Al. “What dragon?” he answered lamely.

“The one I saw inside the sacred chamber,” said Dusty.

The boy has seen the dragon, and Al saw no reason to continue the deception.

“All right—Falkor? Show yourself if you want to eat.”

The dragon appeared by Al’s feet. His green scales taking color. He must have followed Al out and was there all along.

“My friends, this is Falkor. He is from a planet that has turned uninhabitable, and I could not leave him, so I brought him with me. There is no danger—he’s a friendly dragon.”

Falkor and Dusty were instant friends, and when Dusty offered him a slice of bacon, the dragon ignored the offering and showed more interest in a bowl of fruit hanging over the table. It seemed Falkor was a vegetarian. Then the adults settled down to eat, talk and learn about each other.

Before they could begin eating, Darius said, “It is good we found you before King Agenor,” “I am afraid he would not have liked to see your return. He is quite comfortable the way things are.”

“You have a king?”

“He is the ruler of Thera, and controls the Temple we took you from—but please, you must be hungry after your long journey. Eat and drink; we will talk after.”

The bacon was good. Taken from an animal similar to a pig, it tasted very much like the bacon from Earth. With the buttered biscuits came a light white wine to wash it all down. It wasn’t long, and Al was feeling like himself again; functioning at one hundred percent.

“All right, what can you tell me about the Temple?” asked Al.

Darius took a sip of the homemade wine and collected his thoughts. There was a lot of history to cover and not long before someone noticed the strange guest in their house.

“The temple was discovered almost three generations ago. In the beginning, it was chaos, with the people pillaging and destroying the treasures there, until a man named Phegus organized a group to protect and study the wondrous find. He did such a good job that the people made him king of the land and lord of the temple.

“Today the king is Agenor. He is the grandson of Phegus and rules under a harsher hand. He is not the man his grandfather or father were. He controls all access to the temple, and it is he that is responsible for the construction of the castle. Look out through the window, see what he is having us do.”

Al pulled the cloth curtain to the side and there on the lower slopes of a flat-topped mountain stood a half-completed castle. Construction platforms rose from the ground to cover the exterior, with stones and equipment gathered close by ready for use, but no one was working.

Al asked, “Where are the workers?”

“Today is worship day. The day of reckoning. It is our only day without labor.”

“Worship day? What are you worshipping?”

“We are praying for the return of the traveler.”

“—and who
is
the Traveler?”

“He is the one destined to save us from death when the end comes.”

“Death?”

Darius took a breath and answered, “Let me explain. There were scholars in my grandfather’s time that studied the writings left by the gods that inhabited the temple long ago. They spoke of terrible things happening, and a god in the guise of a man would come from the Sacred Chamber to save us. Then he would take us to the Promised Land. That is what they said. I was not a believer until I saw you.”