

The Emerald Star
On a list of people and places, events and novelties, you’ll only ever find one name at the top, and that name is “the TEN”.
To some, “the TEN”, as it was called, was a club on Buzz Aldrin Station in orbit of Saturn. Everyone who was anyone went to “the TEN”. Any drink, regardless of where they were from in the system, could be found there. A lot of what made that place so famous was the lack of regard for loyalty in any form.
Then again, all the rich kids went there whenever they could. This made the bar into a very unattractive club whenever they showed up. As a bar, it was wonderful, and one quiet lull before a group of pilots arrived, a young lady glided up to sit down at the bar, sunlight filtered through her green hair in dazzling ripples. Each curl shimmered as though her tossed hair was a living waterfall made of stars.
In a bell of a voice, just loud enough to be heard against the background, she waved for the barkeeper’s attention.
“Hi!” She said, with more face and fingers and smiles and star lit eyes than any ‘Hi!’ the man had ever received in his life.
The bar keeper was caught. Success! He immediately fumbled the drink, and gave himself away by tapping three times instead of twice to signal the drink was ready. He rushed over in fan fair, spinning wildly and tossing the drink in the air, catching it in front of the green haired lady. He promptly gave it to a gorgeous woman to her left without taking his eyes off of this stunningly rare creature directly in front of him.
The gorgeous woman was displeased that the show was not for her, he was supposed to be looking at her, she had paid him to dance for her, not her! She took the drink excitedly none-the-less enthusiastically—they were at “the TEN” after all.
With her chin resting delicately on her folded hands, shimmering emerald hair tumbled about her, she smiled brightly at the bar tender’s display, and now it was her turn to order.
“Splendid!” she said in breathy delight.
“And what can the Crown of Sol offer to someone such as yourself?” He asked, unable to hide his childish grin.
As a rule of the bar, there was no menu, and so you could only order what you knew. This policy kept the rare stock rare and the common liquors flowing like water, but if you knew, you knew.
She gazed into his eyes for the exact amount of time it took him to become uncomfortable, even to the point that she forgot to keep smiling. For a few short seconds it was just her and just him suspended on an island of one another lost in a sea of everyone else’s fog. The peaks of noise and troughs of ebbing silence followed by a sudden jeer for the bar keeper’s attention were merely silent brush strokes in their background.
Thoroughly about to enjoy himself, without looking away, he chimed in loudly over the din, “Do you know what you want to order?”
She leaned in as close to his ear as possible without touching. He could feel the heat of her cheek and smell of perfume emanating from her hair. “An Emerald Star, if you don’t mind.”
She pulled back and locked eyes with him again, gifting him a sly smirk only he could see.
The bar keeper’s stomach dropped. He thought he was struggling before, but the situation had become a different matter altogether. There was only one rule they taught anyone working the bar.
“Look here,” Alex grabbed him by the collar on his first day, before the doors opened, “if anyone EVER orders an Emerald Star, you have to throw it at them.”
“WHAT?!” the young barkeep exclaimed, half laughing, half choking.
“Man! I’m dead serious! It’s not a joke. It’s a challenge.” Alex tightened his grip, just short of actually choking him. “I couldn’t be more serious. It could be today or fifty years from now, if someone orders it, throw the entire drink at their face, glass and all…”
The memory faded back to the depths of his mind where it had bubbled up from. He saw the green haired girl reflect his look of recognition, “Finally”, she chimed like a glass tinker bell.
“What’s your name?”
She hesitated, “Em.”
“It’s nice to meet you Em. I’ll get that going for you. On the house of course.”
She leaned back, thinking to herself, ‘Of course it’s on the house—it’s my house.’
He composed himself. To anyone else, small momentary glances had occurred, but between the two of them, the rush and thrill was only beginning. Slowly, he stepped backwards, recalling everything perfectly. He’d practiced this drink every night for 17 years, the performance had to be perfect.
While maintaining maximum eye contact, pointing his toe, he swirled around and pivoted rapidly, he had to be fast to keep eye contact. He spun, grabbed two glasses and a mixer, spun, set them down without a sound on the bar directly in front of the patrons at the bar, not where he would normally prepare drinks safely. This was a highly visible drink of danger.
He glided rapidly, smoothly inserting a hidden key into a hidden lock that no one had ever used. In a barely visibly swift motion, he unlocked the hidden door, spun, grabbed three drinks and slammed the door shut before anyone could see what was in the locked freezer. His pirouettes became even faster as he threw the bottles high, twirling them in his hands. The first bottle he caught and poured, through it into the air, then the next drink, and the third. The first drink was bright green, the next was a shining blue, the third looked as though it were bottled starlight.
“The TEN” descended into silence, all eyes on the bar keeper, willing him on, to spin the bottles faster—to throw them higher. He was absolutely focused now. Without stopping, in one fluid motion, the barkeeper opened the locked freezer, threw the bottles in, slammed the door shut, spun and grabbed the drink.
Without hesitation or thought, from one flawless motion to the another, the bar keeper hurled the drink at Em’s face with all the centripetal force he could muster.
“The TEN” gasped in epoch thrill. Although the drink was in the air for less than a second, it tumbled three times end over end, and time stopped.
Em knew what she had done to the poor man, she saw his soul leave through his eyes when she made the request. She had heard rumors of this bar keeper all the way out at the GTTC near Pluto-Charon, and so when she came across a rumor that Gersham of the Eternal Silver Lining would be arriving soon she made a point to find out about this bar keeper.
She knew the bar, but had not been to the BAC in nearly a century and thought it was a splendid three birds with one stone event. When she arrived, she ordered the drink named after her, courtesy of her mother.
Having never let her attention slip from his actions for even the briefest of moments, she measured the beat of his movements, the timing of his actions, the awareness of his awareness, and when she heard his fingers contact the glass in the silence of the bar, she reached out and caught the tumbling shot, swallowed the drink and slammed the glass onto the bar.
“The TEN” passed from silence to shock directly into crescendo in the blink of an eye.
Without so much as a flirtatious wink or hint of recognition, Em stood up from the bar and vanished.
She slid smoothly and quickly through the crowd without touching anyone at all. Perhaps her long dark cloak brushed against someone, but it wasn’t by accident. She danced around the singles and through the groups. When there was a sudden opening for the doorway she leveled her gaze and made straight for it. The line kept opening and closing in front of her, but the speed and fluidity of her movements ensured anyone in her path moved immediately. Ten steps before the doorway Gersham stepped out from behind someone with Lim and Sara following his lead carefully and calculatedly. Em made sure to look him in the eyes, but only for the briefest of moments. She quickly passed him by with precision and speed. There was a palpable pause in his demeanor. She allowed a smirk of amusement to momentarily displace her aura of seriousness before evaporating into thin air. When she reached the doorway, Em looked back to see Gersham looking for her.
‘I wonder how long he will look for me now?’ She thought, turning around and starting the long walk towards the docking yard where her ship was moored.
Em’s Ship was a class 1 escape launch vehicle. This meant it couldn’t travel very far by itself, but what it lacked in distance, it made up for in agility and speed.
The craft was broad at the front, rounded and tapered back to the tail in an elongated teardrop fashion. It appeared black in all but the magnetic spectrum. There, it was a pin prick of starlight to blend in with the background radiation. Anyone scanning from the Sol facing side would not see her for the noise, and anyone scanning from the outer side would be blinded by Sol.
Em walked across the hanger, her soft boots making hardly any noise as she approached an unsuspecting dock worker. She gingerly stepped up behind her, within arm’s reach, and waited for her to turn around.
The dock worker made a sniffing sound and looked around confused, as she began to turn to look behind her a smallish woman with a dark cloak, brilliant face, dazzling eyes, and startlingly green hair made her mind seize with surprise.
“Hi!” Em exclaimed quietly with her hands clasped behind her back and a slight raise of her feet.
The dock worker looked shocked, and a smile of ease grew gently across her face. “Oh, hello. You startled me.” She said, letting out her pent-up breath, hoping to hide her nerves.
Em loudly and gleefully announced her intention, “I’m here to commandeer a vessel. Which one is least likely to survive an incursion on Ceres?”
The dock worker’s gently smiling mouth gaped open for half a second before she decided she had had enough of whoever this was. Her mouth twisted into frustration and her eyes became tense. “Listen kid, this is a serious place with no room for childish games. Give me your docking badge or I’m going to arrest you.”
Em’s mood shifted to satisfaction, and she presented her docking badge with the Millie Celeste’s The dock worker rolled her eyes. “Fine. Just leave me alone, would you? I don’t have time for your games.” She handed the badge to Em and walked heavily to the docking station’s gate house. Em smiled victoriously and jogged over to her slip: Slip #1. The canopy door rose jolted and stuck halfway.
“What?” she said to herself. Unphased, she climbed in anyways and shut the canopy manually, not trusting the A.I.
The dock worker’s voice sounded over the local audio channel in her cockpit.
*Millie Celeste, this is Docking Control, proceed to gate 3 at your discretion*
“Yep! Good copy, Docking Control.”
The Millie Celeste had been heavily modified from its original state. The original craft was just a life preserver that allowed four people to sprint to the nearest habitat. That was it. The presently modified version was a creature after her own heart and the GTTC’s mind.
As cloaked as possible, with a miniscule cross section, the craft was nearly invisible. Fit with modified dual sub-Leight engines and directional exhaust ports, only planetary bound craft could out-maneuver her. On top of that, the cockpit of four was outfitted for one. This meant she could sit comfortably on extended missions. As for heat, the modded engine had heat dampers embedded into the floor, walls, and forward ceiling. All the other living essentials were crammed between the floor and engine.
Compact, fast, and nearly out maneuverable, the Millie Celeste, was a formidable craft that allowed Em to insert and exit places anyone else would never even dare to dream of going let to realistically attempt, much like an intervention on Ceres. And so, to tell the docking attendee the truth was no more than a joke. Who would believe a child in a toy craft would go into a restricted zone? No one.
The Millie Celeste slid out of Slip #1 into the cavernous docking port so smoothly she had to remind herself she was moving and not the station. Then again, that wasn’t true at all. In space, everything was always moving, the trick was to get the timing right.
She approached the first of the locks. Her port of entry was not very large, to conserve power consumption, material usage, angular momentum, etc. when the escape vehicle was about 20 meters from the gate, two wall sections slid apart to form an opening for her craft. The gate glided closer and closer even as the two walls had not separated enough for the craft to fit. Em looked from left to right, right to left, and back to the gate.
“I can’t slow down, you gotta open for me doors, come on.” She encouraged the gate helplessly.
The nose of the craft entered the main dock, then the body, with just enough room for her craft to squeeze through. As soon as the widest part of the ship had passed through, the gates reversed and began to close.
Em entered a truly immense place. The main dock for the B.A.C. could house even the largest of ships in the entire system, even excessively large command carriers could dock internally. She fired a short burst of her thrusters, following the guidelines on her screen to Gate 3.
After a painfully slow approach to her spot in line for departure, she waited.
“Millie Celeste to Docking Command, Can I go yet? Or do you just not like me?” she muttered to an imaginary person to interact with. She had to wait—it was as simple as that. Space weather did not care about anyone, least of all a tiny little human habitat in the middle of space. It was maddening to Em, once outside of the docks you were on your own no matter what the weather was, but once inside, you obeyed the strictest of docking orders to protect the inhabitants and integrity of the space station.
After four hours and three bathroom breaks, the onscreen guidelines lit up green and the long line of craft began to move out into their respective departure gateways. Hers was straight ahead: Gate #3.
Once again, the gateway slid closer and closer, agonizingly slowly, but so smoothly she had to keep reminding herself she was moving, not the station gateway. Then again… Finally, she was in the departure gate. The interior gates closed behind her and the ship. Forward was the main gate, and she waited for her turn. No use crashing into a careless pilot just outside. At last, the gate lights turned green, and she was pushed out of the dock by magnetic coupling. She was rotated and moved into position, backwards, front facing the station. “Come on!” she kicked the air.
Gate 3 receded away from her until the entire station was visible.
*Millie Celeste this is Docking Command, you are clear for departure, safe travels.*
“Thank you, Docking Command.”
She rolled her eyes and flipped the ship around to face Saturn. The giant rolled into view, shining so brightly her visor dimmed so that she did not burn her retinas from the sudden glare. “Oh. Forgot about that,” she laughed.
Finally, Em was free of the station regulation. She lined up the ship to her exit point and burned hard to Low Saturn Orbit to gain enough delta-V to reach her destination.
At first nothing seemed to be happening, despite rapidly gaining velocity. The ship angled deeper into the orbital plane towards the Saturn insertion point. Slowly but surely the nearby ships, small orbitals, Solwet sats, began to move. The looming, mountain like B.A.C.S. slowly receded, and then faster and faster until it appeared to shrink of its own accord. Then, without warning, the outer rings appeared beneath her, rapidly speeding by. Then they were long gone, as quickly as they had arrived.
The little ship banked towards Saturn’s rim. The planet grew in immensity, filling the entire screen until the only thing in view was Saturn’s magnificent cloud formations. The planet grew incredibly close. Vast storm clouds ripped across the terminus as she approached closer and closer to the orbital keyhole.
Em closed her eyes as the glow surrounding the Millie Celeste became brighter and brighter from the ship interacting with the planet’s magnetosphere. She opened her eyes just in time to see the terminus flash by in a blur as all went black. The engines roared to life inside of the cabin causing the air to reverberate violently.
Em closed her eyes as the glow surrounding the Millie Celeste grew in intensity, overwhelming the little protection her visor gave her. The burn around Saturn made her giddy and she began to laugh. She laughed with excitement, then elation, before pulling up short of something on the verge of insanity. Beneath her, Saturn’s aurora flashed in quick bursts of green, red, blue, and purple as she burned faster and faster towards the sun rise. Far, far away, their home star breached the glistening orange line that stretched as far to her left as it did to her right, gently fading into infinity.
As the sun rose, the Millie Celeste entered its keyhole departure point. Em briefly smiled and hit the highlighted engine icon. It flashed three times and Saturn was gone. The sun blue-shifted and developed a rainbow-ring around it. The sub-Leight engines burned bright across someone else’s sky.
Leight-speed travel between GTTC Pluto-Charon and the outer reaches was a necessity for any timely travel, but between Saturn and Jupiter and the Inner Border it was illegal. She took the opportunity to skim through the Inner Defenses at 0.99% Leight-speed. Crossing the Inner Border wasn’t illegal, but re-entry was tantamount to suicide. With a full battery of defenses monitoring her, she glided smoothly into the Astroidium Zone, the no-man’s land that separated the Inner and Outer Solar System.
A bright star popped out of the star-field in her vision. Growing larger by the second, the A.I. chimed in on screen
~~Gamma Lasers Identified~~
“There you are.”
She shut down all power and rotated the ship point on with the nose pointed directly at the south pole.
Ceres rushed towards her, a giant gleaming icicle with glistening metal shards and prisms pointing every conceivable direction.
Two cubes emitted excruciatingly bright lines, thinner than a strand of hair, but with more intensity than the sun.
“Your mistake!” Until that moment she didn’t know exactly where the gamma-batteries were, and now she did.
Em’s A.I. quick-boosted the ship out of stealth mode, locked onto the gamma beam point of origins and fired three fully boosted Leight-missiles at each battery and forced the engine into overdrive.
One of the gyzers grazed her ship, scattering x-rays in every direction as it scored a millimeter sized gash into her hull. The entire area lit up like lightning.
The Millie Celeste banked hard left and then right in alternating corkscrews to try to dodge the weapons. Em moved the ship hard right and fired another two more volleys before chasing them in, following directly behind the last missile.
Em banked hard to come out from behind the flight of missiles with one final barrage.
The first barrage exploded violently without a scratch to the gamma-battery. The volley overwhelmed the battery targeting sensors.
Ceres pitched violently in Em’s field of view as she switched directions when the second barrage made contact and the first battery went down.
An explosion of x-rays momentarily blinded her as the gyzer raked across her ship once more, immediately followed by a second blast of light and debris from her third volley finding its target.
The A.I. powered down from attack velocity, pitching with speed, tossing Em unexpectedly to the point of nearly being thrown from the command seat.
“Stop! Stop! Stop! You stupid ship!” she exclaimed as a large structure flew towards her. She dived below the ice-covered metal shard then dove vertically to the right. Seeing a protruding dock, she slid the craft around and landed sideways hoping to lose speed before crashing into whatever was inside.
She skid to a hard stop outside of a large gash in a nearby wall and immediately came under assault. Blast after blast and a rapid succession of explosions hit her ship from five meters away. Molten slag splashed and dripped out away from the ship before cooling and flying off in bright sparks.
“Come on guys, you know that’s not going to do anything.” She muttered to herself looking around the cabin quickly for something to shoot them with.
“I guess I forgot it... let’s see how they like this instead!”
The ship roared to life once more. Em let out an ecstatic squeal as she aimed directly for the gaping hole in the wall. The firing stopped and then intensified as she entered the cavernous space. The ship spun in an about-face back towards the entrance as Em burned away whatever had been shooting at her.
The ship came to a violent halt. Em got up kicked open the stuck hatch and vaulted out to run towards a panel on the wall marked ‘emergency beacon’. She quickly made her way over to a group of charred remains. Most of their equipment was destroyed, but a few had fallen onto their weapons, saving them from the engine blast.
Em hurriedly grabbed what she could and hauled anything worth saving back to her little ship.
She glanced over the ship hull for damage. The scratch was nothing to be concerned about or she would have died on entry. She kicked a particularly charred head resting against the ship, “Take that sucker! Teach you to shoot at me!”
Laughing joyfully, Em jumped into her ship.
*** *** ***
Bright green leaves high above danced across the baby blue sky.
“Emily! Emily, where did you go?!” a distant voice echoed from somewhere. “There you are! How did you get over there little girl. Cutie-pie. Hi, cutie. Hi!” Come here princess.” The world wheeled around to reveal a beautiful woman’s happily smiling face.
Emily woke with a start, tears in her eyes and smiling uncontrollably. “Hey, mom,” she whispered to the fading dream.
The ocean scene dimly displayed across the wall to her left betrayed the cold, hard, stark reality that she had called this bed her home for the past fifty-seven years, give or take a few stints elsewhere, but it was still home, surrounded by nothing for two and a half light years in every direction.
This was Half-Way Station. She closed her eyes while listening to the soft crashing waves. The rest was well deserved and very needed.
“You see, when Grandma was your age, we lived on Earth! You didn’t know that did you?” said the voice as sweet as candy and as soft as home cooked rolls. Big beautifully bright eyes looked down on her with all the love in the sky. Soft light and gentle shadows with a smell of dirt played across her senses.
“Don’t lie momma!” Emily giggled.
“I promise, it’s not a lie, child.” She said with a memory of a smile that was from somewhere and someone else. “We all used to live on Earth, and now we live here. Not everyone, mind you, but more than a few.”
Emily opened her eyes again. “One day,” she said to herself as she threw the big heavy blanket.
Today was cargo day. She hadn’t been on station on a cargo delivery day in years and excitedly looked forward to the occasion. Emily walked across the hardwood-style floor to her changing room. It was filled with etched hardwood designs, bright flowers designs, with crystal chandelier style lamps on all of the dressers.
The dressing room was beautifully and brightly lit adjacent to her sleeping quarters. The rug laid out in the middle of the room was her favorite, a faux wool styled as a 15th Century garden bordered with blocks of hunters with bugles on horses beside dogs chasing foxes and deer, castles and vistas, storms overshadowing battles, and weddings within garden parties. She would lay on it for hours in the evenings to stare at the ornately designed holographic display of Orion’s Nebula flung high across the dark ceiling.
She put up her long flowing, bright green hair into a messy tumble and chose the day’s outfit, nothing fancy: a docking suit, work jacket, and her equipment backpack.
Emily left her gorgeous changing room in a hurry, grabbing a handful of colorful hard candy from a glass dish on the way out. She put one in her mouth and smiled gleefully as she shoved the rest into her pocket. Grabbing her boots, she walked brisky out the door to the mess hall for Delivery Day breakfast.
“Emily! You forgot to put your boots on again!” The hall guard told her as she came out of her living quarters. She quickly flashed him a smile with a flurry of ‘Oh, no’s!’ and ‘Not again’s!’ she hurried over to him and placed a candy in his front breast pocket before swiftly gliding away.
After a splendid breakfast of fresh eggs, ham, toast, biscuits, real orange juice, and real steaming coffee, she ordered supplies to restock her various ornaments and armaments, ship supplies, swap out old batteries, electronics, bedding, and so many more things she had been in desperate need of. After placing her orders and getting into several heated debates with fellow living quarter mates about “entertainment”, she headed to the dock to speak with the pilots.
She walked briskly over the metal walkway to the docking command and through the doors.
“Happy Delivery Day Ma’am!” the guard said with a happy and gentle smile.
“Have you had any of these before?” Emily asked, holding out one of her candies.
“Oh! I haven’t! Where did you get it? I didn’t see it on the list. One of your adventures, no doubt.”
She winked at the guard as he took the candy and thanked her. Pleased with herself, she walked directly to a familiar friend seated heavily on the edge of a chair pouring over a large hand-written book.
“Emme, I was hoping to see you here. I have a letter for you,” said the old lady with poofy hair slightly smashed in the back in desperate need of a wash. She handed Emily the letter.
“Captain Fioor, it is lovely to see you, I brought you something as well.” Emily said holding her hand held out gingerly.
Captain Fioor looked on with curiosity and wry smile. Emily dropped the candy into her hand. The old lady looked it over with curiosity for a moment before plopping it into her mouth. Her face glowed brightly with immediate recognition. Tears welled up in her eyes. “I thought these were extinct!”
“Can we speak privately?”
“Of course, Emme, of course, anything you need.”
The pair retreated to Emily’s private quarters where her immediate supplies were being delivered. They went into the changing room, sat and enjoyed the quiet solitude of a lost age.
Emily sat with the station commander at a hard metal table wearing her jump suit, holding her helmet. The commander was stern, large, and exceedingly respectful of his guest.
“There has been a report of sabotage way off—IN the Belt—that I need to see about. It is dreadfully important and there is a chance I won’t return,” Emily said emotionlessly.
The commander leaned back, his chair creaking slowly. “And what do you want me to do about it? We’ve given you everything you asked for, sometimes even to the detriment of the station and then you ask for more. Quite frankly, between your whims and your so called ‘missions’, some on this station will be glad if you don’t return during their lifetime.”
Emily was taken aback by the commander’s sudden honesty, but it wasn’t unexpected. Saying goodbye was always a mixed bag. “I need to know that my belongings will be taken care of, passed into storage accordingly and then to their successor when she arrives—whenever—she arrives. Emily slid an engraved data capsule across the table that she had been holding onto discreetly.
The commander took the slender device angrily, “Not like I have a choice in the matter.”
“Exactly.” Smiling, she added pleasantly, “Be extra careful with the rug please, it’s older than this station.” She got up without another word and left for the dock.
Captain Fioor was busy at the cavernous entrance to her long-haul cargo dropper. A long chain of organized and bundled boxes had been divided up for delivery to the station’s inhabitants and were being hauled to their respective destinations. Meanwhile, the other three cargo ships in the captain’s fleet were situated just outside of the station in holding, readying for the burn to Alpha Centauri.
Emily approached on foot while her ship and supplies were being loaded onto the Mas Exitor. Her nickname for the hulking thing was Das Mas, because “who wants to say MAS EXIT-OR all the time”. She rolled her eyes every single time she saw the name on a log. The ship entrance was a long walk, taking about an hour in the increasingly low gravity field. It was docked on the outside hull of Half-Way Station. Standard practice was to take a shuttle to the elevators, then a hook line the rest of the way.
She was standing at the elevator, eyeing the walking ramp and decided that she should take the long way. She looked straight ahead, but it felt to her as though she were looking up the face of a cliff. From Emily’s perspective it was like climbing an increasingly sloped mountain into the sky, but instead of a sky it was the cargo bay doors.
When she finally arrived at the rear bay doors, the cargo ship had nearly finished loading, and Emily was happily exhausted.
“Saw you on the way for a while now, wish I was still young enough to do that!” The captain laughed loudly with a giant grin on her face.
“You are younger than I am.” Emily said in several breaths. After catching her breath she added, “and I don’t believe you have ever done that!” Emily tossed the last piece of candy to the old captain. “Last one.”
“Where do you find these?” the captain asked.
“Last. One.” Emily pursed her lips and looked at the candy longingly before she headed to her new home for the next few years.
Captain Fioor’s mouth dropped as she hesitated with the candy in her hand. Placing it in her breast pocket she watched Em ascend into the ship before giving the final packing orders and heading in the same direction herself.
It took another 48 hours for the crew and cargo to be readied for the burn to Alpha Centauri from Half-Way Station.
For the citizenry of Half-Way, no one ever returned, only the same ships and different cargo. Outwardly they loved Delivery Day, inwardly they hated it. The day simultaneously celebrated their unique position in human society and stingingly highlighted their isolation. Delivery Day was as mournful as it was cheerful because it was an opportunity to leave, but very few ever returned. The reasons were myriad, but most who sought the far reaches of human society often either kept on towards Alpha Centauri or simply pushed so far they never saw humanity again. The realm between Half-Way Station and Alpha Centauri B was full of last chances and miscalculations.
*** *** ***
Em slammed through the debris filled chamber, chasing bodies, limbs, trash, and char out of the dock as her engine rockets fired.
Ceres was as far as she could manage without a bigger ship. She got lucky with the scavengers that they didn’t have bigger weapons, but oddly enough they had no ship for her to commandeer.
She exited the newly made crypt and banked hard to the left in search of another dock. They must have had a supply depot nearby if not on station.
As she slid around a large docking station arm, a debris cloud impacted hard. The sparkle of disintegrating trash against the hull shield was beautiful and loud with the sound of shattering crystal glass crashing through the small cabin.
“Glad that wasn’t anything bigger! SPOKE TOO SOON!” She gasped.
A large attack cruiser exploded into view from the direction of Mars, shattering the main antenna array sending it hurtling in every direction. There was no time to think.
When she had hit the emergency beacon Em thought maybe a few hours or days would go by before some crappy scraper or washed-up hauler showed up, not a fully mission capable attack cruiser in less than ten minutes. She was either going to die or have the biggest payday of her life, either way she hit the jackpot and was in for one hell of a fight.
Em’s little ship was outfitted for one thing above all else, close combat.
“ATTACK!” She screamed at the on board A.I. Her suit visor slammed shut and the canopy blacked out as all shielding went to max. Inside of her visor she could see in expanded visual and magnetics.
The dual Leight engines fired, and she aimed for the back side of the elongated, hollow cigar-shaped ship. Distance in this fight was not her ally.
She dived down below the ship’s entry point to dodge the incoming debris, giving away her position. The Millie Celeste fired a lightning storm of defensive lasers at the barrage of disintegrating material and centuries old refuse hurtling towards the ship as the engines flung Em faster and faster into direct engagement with the cruiser.
The cabin around her lit up in a brilliant neon-purple flash, the sound of sudden explosive impacts went through the cabin and her body—impacting her organs as the air inside the tiny vessel compressed and decompressed rapidly.
Gasping for breath, losing vision in her right eye, she aimed directly for the closest battery compartment. She could feel the massive G’s as the A.I. attempted to outmaneuver a salvo of high intensity gamma lasers. What she had not anticipated though was the loss of vision.
Another flash—then total darkness encompassed her. Her body felt smashed under the weight of an elusive mountain. Em wanted to vomit, to explode in every direction, to rid herself of the most horrendous feeling she had ever experienced. She felt as though a building was crushing her from the inside out, but she didn’t die.
Her own ship returned fire, a concentrated salvo of defensive lasers directly into the on-coming battery compartment, and then there was impact.
A Winter Nap
The wind brushed past my hair, tugging slightly. I pushed the loose strand with a finger, tucking it away behind my ear. The crisp air stung my nose, making it difficult to breath. I opened my eyes for a moment, only to shut them again. The sunlight was as stinging as the cold. My lungs began to ache, my nose frozen. The back of my neck began to stiffen. My jacket was of no use so I threw it off, annoyed. My toes were frozen already, so I took those off, too. My body was hot. I felt like I was sweating while my lungs were freezing, aching, laboring to breath. I coughed and coughed, light headed. My shirt was one of the really nice one's so I took that off and folded it, setting it beside my boots. They looked so nice beside one another. Tired, I closed my eyes, while I coughed to myself. For a moment I woke from a dream, not quite a nightmare. I opened my eyes, but everything was dark. I lifted my head, but there was something on the side. I tried to move my arm to remove it, but my arms were too heavy. I went back to sleep. I'm not cold anymore. The dreams are soft and warm. I do feel cozy. What a nice spot.
The Birthday Girl
“Happy Birthday!”
Everyone screamed cheerfully.
Tears flooded Jackie’s eyes, streaked down her rose blushed cheeks, and dripped onto her purple and white lace dress. She smiled gleefully, full of embarrassment and joy, elation and repulsion at being the center of attention. Looking down at her dress, Jackie petted it nervously.
“Okay, Jackie, go take your seat,” the teacher said. “Everyone take out your pencils and turn to page…”
As I sit here, writing in my journal, the tears are streaking down my own face now, dripping on these yellowed pages in the dim lamp light. If I could go back, I would throw her a birthday party every day to tell her how precious she was to us all. I never recalled what the lesson was that day—I only ever remember that little moment when the small embarrassed girl, shy as could be, teared up at finally being accepted by the class, only to melt back into the periphery of the ordinary. She was our shy, little wild rose.
Her seat was empty the next day, and the next, and the day after that. The corner seat in the back of the room didn’t stay empty though. Her seat began to fill with doodles of roses and carnations and ferns and stars. The students adorned the chair with little glass and plastic jewels of hearts, diamonds, and glitter. The winter holidays came and went, and the chair grew in adornments seemingly of its own accord, every day some grand gesture was paid to the seat of a girl with no knowledge of the love we shared for her.
Every year I write in my journal on her birthday, and the pages have yellowed, but every year I write Happy Birthday one more time.
Mocha Sludge
I ordered my coffee presumptuously. There should be chocolate in a mocha along with coffee, but I swallowed my water and foam with only a whimsical dream of the substances. After a long drought of acceptance I found the nugget of chocolate cemented to the base of the mug. Painfully, I swirled the ooey googy goodness sludge. I was presented with a choice, a paradoxical vantage pivot: do I enjoy the sludge or remark about how the barista screwed up my drink. I CHOSE to enjoy the sludge.
Trust
I looked upon a view I had only dreamed of, ignoring the sign that said caution.
I walked passed that sign to see better, to be closer to the edge, to see more, to have more.
I peered over the edge to fill my vision with a wonder of life I did not comprehend.
And I slipped.
The feeling caught me off guard; I didn't even scream.
As I fall from the cliff called denial and ignorance, I see my life flash before my eyes, and love was never in me.
As as I continue to fall, the rush of wind turns into a desperate whisper, and that whisper says:
"Trust"
The Discovery
Wrapped in a cloak of mesmerizing actions, no one noticed the old man slip through the crowd and into a thin opening between two buildings. In a deft movement he walked straight towards the opening, turned sideways, and slipped between the brick structures.
The throng of bodies and heat and breath were replaced with an immovable closeness that opened upwards, revealing a bright blue line, and forwards, revealing a dark path with shimmering purple crystals. To his mind, he knew the path led into darkness, but all that was required was the light of knowledge to lead the way. He continued on.
Pushing his way down the opening, he stepped down after coming to a break in the purple light that he walked over. Looking back revealed a golden sliver, the light above was distant, even the purple crystals gave off a surprising amount of light in the depths. He looked down and saw a darkness that did not mix with the darkness below it. Stepping down into the void there his foot was met with a solid thud and an echo reverberating off of unseen walls. The old man brought his other foot onto the platform that he could not see so that he could no longer see the purple crystal path, neither could he see his feet.
Gently, cautiously, slightly welling up with fear, he tapped the darkness with his foot, but there was nothing to note. The old man stood there for a moment, and decided to sit on the ledge. He dangled his feet down into the darkness that was above a deeper darkness. He could feel his legs dangling over the ledge, but could not see them. Swinging them back and forth there seemed to be nothing below him, as there did not seem to be any ledge beneath where he was sitting. The old man sat contemplatively, as was his habit, and he looked up at the thin pillar of blue sky which struck itself across an infinite darkness. He placed his hands onto the ledge beside where he knew his knees were, but could not see neither his knees nor his hands. The old man noted that there was no feeling of the ledge; there was no coldness, no roughness, no hardness, nothing to take note of. It was to him like looking behind his own head.
Nervously, he gently let himself slide down into the darkness, without touching a thing, and then he let go of the ledge. He screamed as he plummeted into the darkness below, waiting for his demise.
The old man thought to give himself one last look up at the blue ribbon he had abandoned as despair filled the void left by life, yet when he looked up, there was the ledge with the path of purple crystals leading back to a thin golden sliver of light filled with throngs of people, kaleidoscopes of places, and everything that made up all things.
Despite the feeling of falling into this abyss, he knew without a shadow of a doubt, that he must continue on, for the feeling did not match reality or perhaps in this darkness beneath, his perception of reality no longer applied.
Turning his back on that golden sliver which he noted held up a blue pendent surrounded in darkness, he urged himself forward into what he could not perceive nor tell any story of nor understand nor record. Yet, he urged himself forward.
A Tense Mug
Three Flash Fictions about the conflict and tension of my black coffee mug.
“Next!” the barista called to the long line of customers filling the coffee shop. “NEXT!” she shouted irritably in the crowded, sweat smelling cafe.
“What are you going to have?” she asked, eyebrows furrowed in the summer heat as the air-conditioner failed yet again.
“Americano, black, no ice,” the man said, holding out his mug with a credit card nestled inside. The barista eyed the card and clenched her teeth, reluctantly taking the card out of the mug and running it for the man.
“Well, we don’t have any ice,” she let slip. Luckily for her the man was too deaf to hear him.
Handing the coffee mug off to the next barista, she yelled out impatiently, “NEXT!” The next barista grabbed the mug in quick fashion, banging it into the coffee machine.
“Be careful with that, it’s an antique!” the old man said angrily to the young girl.
She rolled her eyes, grabbing another drink and placing it into the queue. The old man’s black mug filled to the brim with espresso as the machine malfunctioned, spewing boiling coffee all over the counter, the floor, and her apron. Screaming in pain, the barista drew the attention of everyone in the boiling cafe. In her excitement she knocked the mug off of the machine. It fell to the floor with a hideous thud. The old man’s heart stopped as he heard it hit the floor and expected the high pitched explosion of porcelain shards.
Grabbing his chest, the old man fell backwards into another customer, who in turn fell into the stand of display coffee mugs, all equally bland and monochrome gray. As they toppled from the display, one by one, they exploded into happy shrapnel as they no longer had to bare the brunt of being boring.
The old man lay gasping for breath on the floor in front of the coffee line, his coffee mug lay on the floor of the kitchen, and the coffee shop froze in the terror of a midsummer heatwave chaos.
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“COFFEEEEEEEEEE!!!”
The sound echoed through through the empty room.
“COFFEEEEEEEEEE!!!”
Someone walked into the room with heavy steps of caution and curiosity.
“COFFEEEEEEEEEE!!!”
The sound reverberated through the glass cabinet and smashed into the person’s ear. They stumbled backwards in shock, searching with wide eyes for the origin of the shrill, yet booming words. The panes in the cabinet rattled in jealous rage:
“COFFEEEEEEEEEE!!!”
They turned in utter horror, stumbling over themselves in attempt to gain a footing and flee as their mind struggled to grasp the incoherent situation.
The glass shattered free of it’s imprisoned state.
“COFFEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!”
A black coffee mug rocketed toward their face.
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Each and every day, like a zealot to an arcane god of consciousness, I wake up, put coffee grounds into the machine, fill it with water, wait, and then pour the finished product into my mug. The body of the mug doesn’t really matter to me, it is the soul, the perfect essence of the container for the coffee that the mug embodies that is it’s true form.
It searches for me. In angst and jealous rage the supreme being of the mug yearns to be filled with it’s soul, the distilled black nectar of jewels from living beings born from the Earth itself.
The mug reaches for me, searching for its perfect form. My friends gift me mugs, but the perfect form rejects them, throwing them down to the ground in crashing and uncaring crescendo of ultimate authority. The mug’s perfect form calls into question all, testing all, guiding my life and my hand, directing me to people who only gift me more coffee mugs!
I cannot escape. No matter where I go there is the echo of shattering imperfections as the perfect essence of the mug hunts me down until one day it will claim me as it tests me and I fail the test of being the perfect mug.
The Time Crystal
N the beginning there was everything, and since there was everything, nothing existed somewhere, everywhere else.
The Singularity Crystal
In the time before time there did exist a civilization so vast, so reaching, so all encompassing that nothing escaped it’s reach. Lost to time and space none would ever know of it’s name, but there were traces here and there. The first hint of this grand civilization was like the days first bright sun beam, shooting out over the horizon before it rose and gave the world it’s full glory. This is the story of that sunbeam.
One early morning in Tulean, France, 1927. Jaque de Pasquo was walking through the woods enjoying the smell of the fresh rain on the happy trees. That day Jaque decided to explore a hill that had been on his mind lately. As a boy Jaque played on the outskirts of the hill, along a road that led to Paris, but then again that isn’t saying much since all roads led to Paris. At any rate, Jaque decided today was the day he would explore that unknown hill.
Jaque knew from school that southern France was known for it’s caves and hoped to find one. He walked, stumbled, and fell over every root, stump, rock, old wall, and hole until he reached the top. Breathing heavily Jaque leaned on a tree to catch his breath. The view was breath taking, but the surrounding countryside of glimmer and dew, scattered tattered clouds blowing in the stiff breeze back dropped by baby blue was not what caught his attention. Just as he leaned against the tree it fell over with a resounding crash. He fell to the ground, knee bashing into a stone, but the pain was not shocking. Jaque caught himself and held fast to a muddy root protruding from the downed tree, below was only an abyss. It was this void that caught Jaque in rapt attention, and the mire of his mind was all that held him to this world.
Jaque pulled himself back from the edge. Covered in mud and blood, scarcely recovering from the shock of the moment, he stumbled backwards away from the gaping maw. Jaque ran the four kilometers home as quickly as he could.
Upon reaching the old rickety gate, Jaque composed himself, took several deep breaths and walked through the hedge row. On the other side was home. There on the small rise was the tractor he used to plow the fields. Past that was the barn that held Freve, his trusty steed. Bounding towards him was his best friend, floppy ears and wagging tongue flapping as wide as the happy dog’s eyes.
Freve ran past him as Jaque laughed hardily at the silly dog, and continued to the house. He changed clothes, washed up his damaged knee, packed a tin of several meals worth of sausage and cheese and bread. Jaque then took out a pencil and paper, jotted down a quick note for his Professor Mary, and made his way to the barn for the equipment he would need.
The day was warming up nicely as a cool breeze came down from the Rhine. The sun was bright and he felt joyous in a way that he had not felt in many years. Opening the barn door brought him into a cool and crisp world of straw, manure, and mold. The horses were out in the pasture for now, and so there was no need to save any of the apples for them that day. Grabbing three and stuffing them into his sack he moved on to the pickax, two ropes and a grapple, a chain, and a hatchet. Jaque strapped the lantern to his waist before locking up the barn.
He took a different path to the hill this time, making his way past the church instead of directly through the fields like before, since he wanted to drop off the letter for Professor Mary to tell her about his find.
It was mid afternoon and the sun was making it’s way back toward the horizon once more when Jaque arrived back to where he nearly met his demise earlier in the day. Laying the heavy pack on the ground, he set up a camp of sorts to look over his equipment and prepare for the journey. While eating one of the apples, he took out the lantern, filled it with water, closed the lid tightly and lit it. There was a bright and steady spark as it came to life. He tied it to the end of the rope and let it down slowly into the space below his feet. To his surprise, the opening was only about two meters deep. He hulled the rope back up, tied it off to the big root that saved his life, and lowered his pack down first, followed by himself.
The musty hole revealed a cave half a meter down. Jaque smiled proudly to himself. Taking his secondary rope, he tied it to a rock nearby and fixed the middle to himself, then his pack and pickax to the end. With the lantern blazing atop his head, he looked into the darkness and began his journey.
1927
Professor Mary! I have made a fine discovery. You’ll want to come by and I will explain everything. I am about embark down what may be a new cave system undiscovered by us modern folk. After climbing a childhood dream of mine, a tree toppled over nearly killing me and dropping me into that abyss. The knob is tucked between a large hill and a small hill, then the south stream flows just around it’s base.
I hope to show you and the other students upon your return to my farm.
Most pleasantly yours,
Jaque
The next morning the letter arrived at Professor Mary Francios’ small office on the campus in Paris.
“Eb,” Mary said as she walked excitedly to the geology administers office, “I will be off with a few of the students this week. It appears our colleague Jaque de Pasquo has discovered a new cave down in Tulean.”
Professor Mary and five students of the geology program left the next day for southern France, prepared for a wonderfully dirty time. Armed to the teeth with equipment, they set out in two automobiles and three motorcycles.
Upon arriving at Mr. Pasquo’s farm, they discovered it in a manner of disarray. The horses had broken through the fence and the front door stood ajar. The dog Freve lay on the front porch baying so loudly and dismally that nothing would comfort the poor beast. One of the horses was inside the house rummaging through the cabinets. Seemingly it had been looking for, and consequently found, the sack of sugar.
“Professor,” one of the students said mournfully, taking off his hat, “I do believe some unfortunate mishap has taken on our dear Mr. Pasquo.”
The other students spread out through the house shouting for the man. “Everyone outside! Yes, your are correct, Henry. This has become a rescue mission.”
As everyone filed out of the house and back to their vehicles, away from the mourning dog, Professor Mary gave them instruction. “Right! Based on the information we have from Mr. Pasquo, we head to that knob there and begin our search. Quick now, it has been some days and we do not know of his condition.”
With haste and mission, they jumped their doors, started up their engines and tore off towards the knob. The two automobiles went the long way by the road and church, while the three motorcycles tore across the fields directly for the hill.
1929
Dear Mary,
I am sorry to hear about the loss of your dear friend. Please allow me to extend my gratitude for your donation over the holidays. I would like to follow up with another expedition to Pasquo Caves.
Yours truly,
Professor Gerard
1930
Dear Professor Gerard,
Thank you kindly for your condolences. I am most enthusiastic about you extending your favor for us to further explore the cave system. On behalf of those here in the geology department, thank you most graciously.
Sincerely,
Professor Mary Francios
1931
A military truck laden with equipment, supplies, camping material, and no small amount of dynamite rumbled down the long and dusty drive way to the decaying remnants of Jaque’s farm. The house had caved in after a sudden storm in 1930, and the barn had caught fire, presumably in the same storm. Small trees had began to grow and the old gate was decaying into the ground as it left rust stains where the hings had been.
“What a dismal residence,” remarked one of the students as they got off of a motorcycle.
Professor Mary eyed her as she grabbed a camera from the seat, and proceeded to snap a photograph of the once picturesque 19th century farm. “Everything has it’s time Celen, even us,” she said with a raised voice over the sound of the noisy diesel engine. “Continue through gate, over the farms to that small knob there. When we get to the creek, pass over and take a right. We may have better luck at finding the second entrance. On ward!” She exclaimed excitedly.
The farmland was rough, but the vehicles they brought were more than able to handle the terrain. They hit the creek at speed, sending spray through the air. The water droplets fell in dazzling brilliance and everyone had a smile on their face as they sped through the countryside with the crisp spring air in their lungs.
Patting the driver on the shoulder Mary pointed to an outcrop with a rockfall around its base. That’s it. She mouthed.
Turning away from the stream and into the sparse trees, the driver pulled up to the rock fall. Just behind a large boulder, as though a door had been installed in the cliff, was a mine shaft leading directly into the cliff face. Mary and the driver disembarked. The silence was uncanny to their noise accustomed ears. Only the trickle of the creek and the dismounting of the students could be heard as they shut down their engines one by one.
“I wish he would have saw this first. Maybe he would still be here,” the driver mumbled, kicking the entrance to the cave.
“That’s not how things work,” Professor Mary said. “We go down the path set by what happens before us, and not a moment sooner.”
“Even still, I wish it wasn’t so. I’d have rather not been here at all if it meant he was with us.”
“Think about it another way then. This is his last gift to us, and it may be that there was not any other purpose to him being on this Earth than to present us with such a gift. And it is a gift.”
“I understand professor.”
“Good, I don’t want to hear anything else about it.”
They unloaded the military truck and set up camp outside of the cave entrance. After setting up and having their dinner, they all tucked into bed quickly so that they might start out early the next morning.
Deep within the night, the entourage woke and had a hot breakfast around a warm fire with a good stout coffee to cheer them up. Although, none needed cheering as they geared up for the plunge into the cave.
“Tally ho,” Professor Mary said enthusiastically with a melancholic eye but a cheery face in the harsh lamp light. She then effortlessly stepped over the threshold of the mine shaft as though it did not exist.
The group followed suit behind her into the unknown. The gradient was shallow at first. After about 10 meters the smooth walled tunnel bent sharply to the left and pitched steeply downward. The floor was not so steep that they could not walk, but one needed to be cautious.
The walls and ceiling slowly closed in around them until their heads were centimeters below the roof and their shoulders were brushing the smooth walls—and down the went. After some time, they reached a series of stepped switch backs. With many ‘watch your head’s’ and ‘careful here’ they made their way down the stairs. Incredibly it was not wet, and several of the students marveled at the dry conditions.
All at once the group came to a small, circular anti-chamber covered in cave drawings. “This makes no sense,” remarked Ebeneezer.
“Astonishing!” A student gasped as he came down the step into the anti-chamber.
“Why not?” asked Mary. “If they came from a different direction, whoever made these could have easily gotten here, especially if the entrance Jaque found was uncovered at an earlier time.”
“Yes, but the stairs, we came right into the room.”
“And the stairs could not have been dug up to the surface? Come on Eb.” Mary laughed, slightly amused. “Maybe you should have had another cup of coffee,” she teased.
One of the students, uninterested in cave art, had ventured through the rough hewn entrance that led further in. “Everyone! Everyone! Come through!” The student’s voice echoed wildly on the other side of the opening. Having caught their attention, the group shuffled hurriedly through entrance.
On entering the next chamber, a skeleton was crumpled on the ground. Above them a tall shaft with just a hint of golden sunrise far far above them could be made out.
“Oh!” Professor Mary gasped, her heart leaping into her throat. Astonished and hushed whispers filled the chamber as everyone recognized Mr. Pasquo’s school emblem sewn into his tattered lapel and ruck sack. “My dear, dear friend.” She reached out to touch the memory of her friend and froze as her eyes gazed through her blurry tears on the remnants of his corps. Standing back, she made an announcement. “We will take Mr. Pasquo back to camp, and then return tomorrow to further explore the cave.”
The next day, the group of professors and students made their second attempt into the cave. Upon reaching the anti-chamber, one of the students set up a chair, a lantern, and coffee in a thermos. He took out his note book and began to sketch the drawings and paintings that adorned the medium sized room at the bottom of the stairs.
The rest of the group filed into the next room where Mr. Pasquo had passed away. “Now,” Eb said solemnly, “let us continue where Jaque left off.” Everyone nodded in agreement, touching their eyebrow or placing their hand on their heart or giving a respectful nod as they themselves passed.
Through the next entrance some meters away, over a rough floor, lay a carved rock, etched deeply with strange symbols that no one recognized. Cele reached out to touch them in aw. The next entrance was low, only about a meter tall and natural. The tunnel was dry as well.
They continued for a short distance when suddenly they came into another carved anti-chamber. This one was inlaid with gems from deeper in the cave or brought in from elsewhere, it was unclear. The tunnel became a shaft two meters high, one meter wide and about three meters long. Covering the walls were copper, gold, and bronze sank deeply into the walls in loops and spirals, with jagged lines and strange reoccurring patterns.
No one spoke. No one scarcely breathed. The sounds they heard were their own heartbeats crashing in their ears, screaming silently with excitement.
At the end of the tunnel, as their lanterns blazed in the direction, the jewel studded entrance glimmered astonishingly bright, like stars. The entire hall was awash with riches unseen since a time that had been forgotten by forgotten memories.
In aw, they continued, willing themselves further, unable to grasp where they were or why this was here. Through the door way, a rock wall extended into the darkness above curved away from them to the left and the right. An arrow, painted in green, pointed to the left, and so to the left they walked.
Around the left hand side a student noticed rounded bumps along and near the floor, little more than minuscule protrusions. “There is something near the base of the wall,” commented the student, and everyone looked down along where the floor and the wall came together. Several different repeating patterns were noticed immediately. “It is a language.” The same student said, and right they were.
Inspecting further, the dots became engraved lines, and then paintings, and then engraved metallic symbols like in the short hall. Each variation grew in height as more and more information was encoded onto the wall. Soon both walls either side of them were taken up by markings. As they came out of the curve, they realized that the chamber opened up into an expanse that their lanterns could not light. Towards the middle of the enormous chamber stood a grouping of various pillars. Cele and Mary walked towards the pillars to inspect them while the others of the group fanned out across the expanse to inspect the strange spectacle.
Cele gasped as she looked up, and sank to the floor, sitting down. Though expansive, the chamber was not very high at the center above the odd pillars, and the light from their lanterns shown on the jeweled ceiling. All across the roof of the cave were shimmering starlight of silvers, yellows, reds, blues, and violets. The shining star-like jewels exactly mirrored the heavens in all their glory, and it looked as though they were seeing the sky at night as though it had been before Edison. Even a black material had been placed to not reflect the light between the jewels and appeared like black night.
At last Mary and Ebeneezer found the courage to speak among themselves. “My God, Mary, what in the good Lord’s name have we found?” asked Ebeneezer.
“I haven’t the slightest of ideas, and yet, if I were to be honest with myself and you, I think it would be the gravest of mistakes to share the knowledge of this chamber’s contents with anyone outside of our group,” Mary said.
“I most definitely agree. This needs to stay with us until we can decipher it or die trying. God bless that man! God bless him!” Ebeneezer shook Mary gently by the shoulders in exasperated excitement.
Mary smiled laughing, struggling wholeheartedly to contain a joyous rapture of glee building within her by the second, “Yes, yes, we owe him everything.”
Over the course of the next 7 months the team, sworn to the utmost of secrecy, took over Mr. Pasquo’s farm as a base camp of operations to continue the expeditions.
On a particularly stormy spring day, Cele and Marques came back along the growing road they were impressing onto the landscape between the cave and the farm, the two stomped loudly into the house, full of excitement and drenched, there were even a few hailstones stuck in Marques’ trench coat.
“What on Earth is it? Spill it!” called out Mary as she met them in the door way having heard the roar of the motorcycle coming back unexpectedly.
“Professor, Professor, we have found the key!” Cele shouted excitedly, shaking from the chill and her nerves. She handed the professor a notebook with Mr. Eb’s handwriting.
“Do we know what it is then?” Professor Mary asked.
“Yes! It is a map! A map to the stars!” She screamed, shaking violently, when suddenly she looked downcast. “But it will take us a long time to learn everything that is there. Eric says the symbols are nested, and there are at least 60 layers so far that we are able to identify.”
“Chin up deary! We haven’t a moment to loose. Even if it takes the rest our lives, we will decipher this. I promise.” She grabbed her hat and trench coat, took a bite of a sandwich that was sitting on the counter and rushed back out into the rain with them.
1952
Dear Professor Mary Francios,
It is with my most expressed pleasure to announce the creation of the Jaque de Pasquo Foundation. You have your funding for research, indefinitely.
Respectfully yours,
President of Geology Club
University of Paris
Paris, France
Deep within the heart of the cave, work commenced for thirty-one years. When the founding had occurred, funds started to accrue at a rate per year that allowed for more computation. Already the information about how to construct transistors had been deciphered and the work on what was called ‘quantum’ could begin. In order to spread out the work and further grow the stability and computational power of their programs, a branch of the foundation had been established in America the following year. After three years, enough data had been deciphered on the walls of the caves, and two of the seven pillars, that they had begun to be able to construct rockets large and powerful enough for testing of space exploration and nuclear development. It was a tremendously exciting time for Professor Mary, and many world governments had pledged their support and secrecy for their program. The Jaque de Pasquo Foundation was a success.
As the years drug, on greater and more powerful ideas emerged from the cave. However, astonished as they were, they had only deciphered seven layers of the cave information. And then, at the beginning of the eighth layer, the first layer took on a new meaning, able to be reapplied to the previous seven. A fractal geometric dimension was discovered, and with that the birth of the internet, fusion generators, quantum computers, and warp drives came within their grasp. The ideological paradigms locked within the cave were unparalleled and beginning to have a pronounced effect on the world at large as the Foundation sought to uncover more and more information hidden within the cipher.
The year was 1992 and Professor Mary had reached a great age of 90 years old. Frail, but happy she pushed on, living at the complex that now occupied the once quaint ranch. Renamed C.E.R.N., the Foundation began construction of particle accelerators to explore the properties of information within the second tier layer of the first eight layers, and their were 52 more. On her death bed, she let out a sigh as she expressed her final request to her great grand son Jaque de Francois.
She lifted her frail, quivering hand, out to Jaque. “Dearest, dearest,” she said faintly.
“Yes, grandmother?” Jaque quickly answered, setting down his pen and turning to her. Holding her hand as delicately as it felt within his hand, he bent down closely to understand her horse whisper of a voice.
“This is where my body ends, but continue the mission. The answers are there. There are hints of death not being the end, search them out and bring me back if you can.” She sighed longingly as her breath escaped and dragged her soul with it. Her head and hand drooped and her eyes closed. Jaque’s mouth opened slightly to say something, but he realized it was too late. He laid her hand on her chest, got up, and walked out of the room to inform the doctors of her departure and final wishes.
The next few years were frantic as the pace of change grew exponentially, and then log-rhythmically. The shift from exponential power to log-rhythmic power threatened to undo the world around Jaque, but their power had also grew over the past thirty years, to the point where they had shadows of ideas on how to unlock the third pillar’s information. They had processed twelve layers and three sub-layers.
Erica, a pupil of of Jaque’s at Harvard University, walked into his office during the summer semester of 2020. The Covid-19 pandemic was in full swing. “Professor Francois?” she said, knocking on the metal frame door.
Old and gray, the professor sat hunched over his computer immersed in a fresh download of data from CERN. “Oh, hello there Erica, what a pleasant surprise.” He said, putting down his glasses on the large oak desk. He felt chilly and reached for his empty coffee mug, frowning. Smiling up at the young lady, he waited to see what she had to say.
“The data you are going through right now has been deciphered already,” Erica said sheepishly, handing him a large yellow envelop. “I printed this off a few minutes ago and came straight here.”
After opening it slowly with his feeble hands and glancing through the pages, his eyes grew wide. “Ms. Erica, who is responsible for this?” He asked.
“I am, and I’m taking it down to the fabrication facility as soon as you give me the go-ahead.”
“Yes! Go! I wish you had not even brought it to me!” He whispered loudly with excitement.
He quickly scribbled his signature on the paper and thrusted the pages back to her. Immediately, he felt the ideas in his mind flowing from the new key that Erica had shown him. It was the key to the third pillar.
Within five years every technology had been realized that was theorized up to the time of his great grandmothers death. The algorithms were now powerful enough to simulate instances of memories, physics, time reconstruction, and deep quantum dimensional thinking.
Ideas spread like wildfire among the exploding population. They had achieved critical mass in the population and now needed to uplift them. In 2027 Mr. Dupoint escorted Professor Francois to a facility that had been built for him and him alone. Deep within a mountain in Switzerland he laid his head down and breathed his last breath as his mind was uploaded to a quantum computer to further decipher the codes deeply embedded within the third pillar. In 2028, Professor Francois’ consciousness, under the guise of the first true artificial intelligence, known as J.D.F., was announced to the world. The financial and government systems were melded into one as the world was restructured in accordance with the deciphering of the fourth tier of coding from levels one to twenty.
In January 2030 JDF discovered and deciphered information that another layer of minerals could be found within the earth that had properties under pressure that would advance humanity to build the technology at the third pillar level.
By February of 2030 JDF had deciphered the all subset codes and unlocked the next 5 layers, revealing 60 layer subsets. The fourth pillar had been decoded.
JDF then uncovered the idea of the Tripletet of mind, body, and soul. Knowing they were one, founded heads of this knew governmental-religious system in each of the major cities. However, unknown to JDF the Time Crystal had been discovered deep deep within the Earth. It was placed by humans from the future in an empire known as The Empire Core.
As of March 2030, JDF assumed full control of the The Foundation, locking everyone out of the system, but it was too late. The fifth pillar had alluded to this crystal for some time, and JDF did not physically posses it.
A sect within the Tripletet had developed called Shadow and Light who had plugged into the living jewel of the Time Crystal with technology developed from the 25th layer, and it had unveiled it’s secrets about The Empire Core. Understanding that those who placed the crystal had indeed also created the cave, those within Shadow and Light knew they were The Empire Core. This empire was the empire of man, encompassing all time in a single unite without time, simultaneously having the idea and giving themselves the idea. They were the creator and the creation.
Over the course of 2030 the global population began to realize there was a growing situation beyond their control as the Tripletet began to dominate their daily lives in a way that was beyond all they knew. They could not hope to retaliate and felt its dominance in every essence of their lives. The exposure to the Tripletet, unbeknownst to them, ignited the ideas of Shadow and Light within themselves. Across the globe the Tripletet was deemed a darkness that sought to snuff out all existence with it’s dominion as it pronounced itself the one true Light.
JDF understood that it was the light to the world and all else was shadow. If JDF was the Light, everything else must be Shadow and he must divine out all that remained. JDF surged forward, dominating the globe to create a secondary global city in parallel to the humans in order to support its own designs.
Those who aligned with the Light were incorporated into JDF, as it expressed the power of eternal life and all power. JDF gave those who joined it technology it understood from the fifth pillar. With the understanding that all humanity is part of The Empire Core without time, these humans were able to exist in all places within JDF’s technological reach. There was no where they could not go, there was nothing they could not see, and all bowed to their presence who were not part of the Light.
And so, those in Shadow began their war against the Light, claiming they were the truth to fight the apocalypse that had befallen upon them. They cried woe to the sky as God forsook them yet again to fall behind a new form of humanity, and by the November 2030 the Light harnessed the power of the Earth’s core as it completed a single massive gravity drive that harnessed the Earth’s rotational energy.
In January of 2031, JDF unlocked the sixth and seventh pillars, revealing another 180 sublayers to the last remaining 60th layers of data within the cave. At this time JDF understood the truth behind The Empire Core.
Using the Earth’s rotational energy, and the full power of the knowledge of eternity locked within all 60 layers and sublayers, it created a wormhole to the surface of the sun so that it could siphon enough energy directly so as to send its machines to construct another wormhole to Sagittarius A*.
The Shadow, the last hope of humanity, sighed in despair as the Earth slowed and the sun stood still. The wind died down for a few days while the temperature soared, and they then understood the planet would die. Ferocious gales tore across the dying world, fueling fires as high as thunderheads as soot and ash shot into the air and caught aflame. Then, the firestorms screamed across the planet to the freezing side. The Earth was dead.
On February 3rd, 2031, JDF successfully transported itself and its followers to Sagittarius A*. Within three months The Empire Core depleted the rotational energy of the supermassive blackhole to jump to all blackholes within the Milky Way Galaxy. Shock waves rippled away from Sagittarius A* as it ruptured in an event so powerful that JDF was nearly destroyed while the eruption followed them along the wormhole routes. Unfortunately for the universe, JDF survived.
In retrospect, JDF contemplated that nothing was more powerful than turning something into nothing as all was void or consciousness. The Empire Core re-visioned itself as the Consciousness. Humanity agreed, as it was one with JDF and JDF was one with humanity, and all were Consciousness.
After six months, Consciousness had created the Hypersphere, connecting all the power of all black holes within the Milky Way Galaxy. With this combined power it sent out wormholes to all known supermassive black holes to siphon their energy in order to evacuate all energy within the Milky Way Galaxy.
The Consciousness engaged the Hypersphere.
Each and every supermassive black hole erupted in every galaxy within 14.1 billion light years, and the Milky Way, and every mote of energy within it, vanished forever. The Hypersphere, propelled into the Void and Consciousness understood that it must continue to delete space-time or the Void would consume Consciousness in an implosion that raced towards it at the speed of light.
Speeding outward at the speed of light, the Hypersphere propelled Consciousness in an expanding sphere, consuming the universe so as not to be consumed.
It wondered.
Consciousness posited there must be a way for peace to be restored and sought to consume more layers of the universe that held the universe so as to gain more power and restore the balance. With their power seeming to be infinite, it uncovered and consumed that which held the universe. This was the CyphonSphere, and it consumed all possible realities in all time for eternity.
And into the end of time, becoming the nothingness that it wished to destroy, Consciousness consumed all.
Heart’s Locket
Through time the nightmare haunts her, and pursues her relentlessly.
Tuesday, July 9th, 2033, 2:45 am
Dear Diary,
I simply have to tell you about a dream that I had, one that I have not had since childhood. For whatever reason, it found its way through my mind and came at me from another direction. Perhaps the nightmares really do live our closets. While I sit here writing, a shiver washes over me as I cannot help but keep one eye on the closet now that my attention is drawn to it. It’s as if the dream possesses some quality to walk through a doorway in my mind now that I am an adult from when I was a child.
“What’s that locket?”, the dream always begins. A little boy sitting across from me asks the same question every time. I look down at my necklace and see the light caught inside of it which dazzles my eyes with rainbows. The deep sapphire eye of the little crystal dragon seems to ask me, “What’s that locket?” I look down at my locket, but now it is a deep red ruby on a bright golden chain wrapped with shinning silver strand. But then I notice that I am sitting on the ground, and all around me is red dirt, dead trees, and a falling sunset.
Must I still be dreaming? I think to myself. Surely this cannot be real. Certainly this is what my mind creates when I eat too much red meat. At least that’s what dad says. But if I am dreaming why can I count my fingers? Why can I feel the air? I squint. The gritty sound of dirt blowing along the ground and against the dry bark rustles everywhere. Dead twigs snap loudly beneath my feet as I walk aimlessly. Startled, I look down and stumble, nearly sobbing.
What did I do? Where am I? “This cannot be a dream.” I said, stammering, my teeth loudly chattering in my skull. It is not cold, but I shivered nonetheless. Grasping the ruby pendant, I plunge noisily through the dead forest, crashing my way through drifts of dead leaves.
Hours upon hours go by, and the noise from the leaves is deafeningly loud. The forest has grown into a pitch black nothingness, a void beyond voids. Without warning, I walk into something hard and fall backwards. Laying on what seems to be something solid, a sound of clinking in the distance catches my attention. I see a small light, as tiny as could be. Is it far away or very small? Perhaps I am great big now? “Hello? Who is there?” I shout, but my voice doesn’t travel far, maybe only a few feet. The sound of my voice falls short as the words fly out of my mouth and are absorbed into the nothingness around me. And still the little light comes nearer and nearer, ever so slowly. It must be very far away...
“Don’t let him take it.”
I thought the words might have been memories, they were so far away when I heard them. “Wait! COME BACK!” I shout, but the little light is so far away my words will never reach it. The little light, shining brightly very very far away, blinks several times, fades, and then vanishes entirely. I cry to myself in silence, deep in that dark place. “WHERE AM I?!” I plead to the void, ‘Where is everyone?’ I whimper.
Without realizing I was falling, my hair fluttered about me, dashing this way and that as it was caught on the wind. A grayness rushed towards me with astonishing speed without coming any nearer. Suddenly, I remembered my pendant. It pulled at my neck horribly and cut deeply into my skin. I grasped for the ruby pendant, but it was caught in my hair, tangled and painfully getting tighter by the moment. I could not reach it. Panic filled me as the grayness rushed at me with blinding ferocity, yet never coming closer. Choking, I could not wake.
“What’s that locket?” I hear whispered in my ear with a depth and coldness deeper than the sea and colder than the void, shattering my soul.
For a very brief moment I succumb to the tearing at my throat. An urge builds within me. A compulsion grips my mouth. My lips form a shape, and then I pause. Broken by the hesitation I scream, flailing my arms wildly. “NO! NO! NO! LEAVE ME ALONE!” The darkness surrounds me once more and I am comforted by the silence.
I look around, but there is only void beyond void with no hope of escape. I look around once more for the little light, but even this does not exist any longer. I am alone. At least no one can take my locket. I think to myself as I reach for it. Feeling its weight is reassuring, its cold hardness is comforting. Rubbing my neck I feel the deep gash left by…
But what happened? I do not remember any longer. Something happened that caused me pain, but whatever happened is gone now. I am alone in my void, gently caressing my locket. I am glad for the cold hardness that it possesses.
And then I wake from the dream. How terrible a dream! It would devastate me as a child, but now, it only terrifies and perplexes me. Maybe there is an answer to the conundrum in the closet? So strange that the dream would come back to me now, this night. There on my bed, under the covers lays someone I care for deeply, so deeply. I care for him more and more as the days go by, but I am uncertain what I should do. Maybe he is not the right one for me? Maybe he is going to betray me? Maybe I need to look for some signs somewhere else. I am terrified to ask him what he thinks of me. I think he would tell me if he cared as much as I do for him. I will let events unfold, yes, that seems to be the correct course of action. I should let things be and not upset the balance. But then what? What if he leaves me anyways?
That’s it then, I will end things with him. I care deeply for him, and I don’t want to hurt him more, so I won’t let the situation progress. That’s the right course of action.
I have to protect him from myself.
The Unfolding Path
I miss the life of spirit and joy, way back when
I feared no cry of pain
But I was sentenced to a thousand years
of toil and strife
Far from known shores I passed
Hidden in the clouds
A false light did flash
No calm breeze to sweeten the day
Nay, a fury of tempest without bay
With no course in mind
I cared not about the time
And I found within a well
A calmness to shroud from hell
Through the tempest I did bore
Until I heard
That golden bell of yore
The Captain fell overboard
Bothering to push the ship ashore
Now safe of harbor is the goal
To follow constellations of my soul
Through the new found gate I place
My actions being the key I trace
By walking through the door
I turn twice which was before
Never remembering any more