With our inflicted warrior friends settled in, we were eager to get back home. Crimson would not be a gateway to our invasion of Prime. In fact, we had gained a new enemy to add to our woes. But we had also gained new friends. True friends willing to risk everything to help us. In turn, I suspected would need our help in the future. It was finally time to go home. Rock and Roll happily began teleporting the teams to the quarantine facility at Oort Base for a thorough medical scan. From there we would move on to a Solcom facility for debriefing, the directors wanting a personal session with Tee.
Before she would leave, Para wanted to check on our guys in the Cleric’s village one last time, so Fierce and I stayed back with her. While waiting for Rock, we sorted through the last of the mission gear, thinking to leave some helpful items for the Krill. For the most part, they politely refused. Except for hair brushes and buttons. Those, they couldn’t get enough of.
When Rock returned from shuttling the others, he brought a few personal items the guys had requested, items their buddies had hastened to collect and send on to Oort by port-tech. None of those infested of the Gall had married. That was good under the circumstances.
We moved on to the village across the lake to deliver the items, along with our encouragement. When we stood up to leave, Para noticed Taylor was having a difficult time opening his package, his fingers trembling. We had been warned, it was a normal and temporary side effect of the serum. She wasn’t concerned, having analyzed the serum herself and finding it to be compatible with human physiology. But Para felt a need to do this one small act of kindness before we took our leave.
To our surprise, the Cleric who had been so kind to us, came running up. “Please, one more moment. It has been calling for you. I feared you had already left. The relic lives deep, in the Cavern of Light.”
He almost collapsed from exhaustion as he moved to the table, clinging to an object wrapped in fine embroidered cloth. The Cleric motioned for us to come close as he began to unwrap... the relic. As my attention fixed on the beautiful wrapping, I noticed something odd. The cloth was dangling as though the object it covered was floating.
Para heard the Cleric’s statement and spoke up, since protocol didn’t allow us to bring back anything alive, not without strict procedural controls. “Kind sir, there is no need to give us anything. It is we who owe you a debt.”
The Cleric turned to her. “No. You do not understand. The relic chose you. It has been waiting.”
We were all confused, but Fierce was the first to ask. “How do you know this? You say the... relic chose Para?”
The poor man was still trying to catch his breath, and held up his hand, taking a moment to calm himself. “The relic called to us, to the entire village council. We were given a vision. It was similar to this moment, with me passing the relic on to all of you. It chose you. It has been waiting.”
He finished the unveiling. The relic hovered a few inches above the table top, gleaming, looking exactly as I remembered. We had found another crystal stela during our Ringolar mission. It was identical. I wondered what this stela would reveal. The others of the council finally arrived, confirming what the Cleric said. They looked on, lost in thought, as we carefully rewrapped the stela and stowed it in a pack.
It was then Taylor’s eyes glazed over and he looked our way. “We know where you live Viz and Para. We’ll be seeing you soon enough.” Then Taylor was back, looking frenzied, trying his best to apologize. The Cleric said he would need another dose of serum.
Crimson is something like 1,400 or 1,500 Light Years from Earth. The threat is easy to ignore until one remembers two of these guys can teleport. To them, the Earth is only a step away. No walls can stop them. Tired as I was, sleep would have a hard time finding me that night.
***
We had gathered enough information about the Gall to save us from a lengthy period in quarantine. Good thing, because we had an important engagement coming up. Life goes on. These days, the word interstellar is attached to the word war. It gets to be... too much. Why don’t we have a look at an interstellar event of the happy kind.
A STELLAR WEDDING
Grandad and Ms. Findley just got married! Crud, I’ve called her Ms. Findley my entire life. That isn’t going to work anymore. We’ll figure it out. Anyway, they’re on their honeymoon, on the Moon. I know, nothing exotic, but Marj requested they stick close to home for the ceremony and all, even though Tee has a port-tech on call. She wants to dance across the mountains on the Moon. I think that’s from some song going way back to when they were young. Grandad tapped-out for the newest resort, with all-of-it, a paradise on Luna.
I suppose Luna makes sense for a wedding of any size. Shuttle flights are cheap and relatively short. Plenty of kids take field trips, usually just doing a rounder. Or, for an overnighter there are usually bargain prices available for a moonroom. Rent-a-suits for a romp on the surface are inexpensive too.
Anyway, Tee and Marj decided on a traditional ceremony, though the rest of the wedding was interstellar, the first wedding with people in attendance from four different worlds. Earth, Kreahaam, Turkskee, and Krull. Tee managed a spin-up close to the edge of ornery in order to keep all but a handful of newsnet reps out of the picture.
The setting was a remote resort with rooms built into the wall of a large crater. The floor of the crater houses a tropical wonderland with a ballroom off to the side, the Earth hanging blue and beautiful in the dark sky. Panels were removed to make the ballroom a part of the tropics, filled with astral floral scents, colorful birds and butterflies flitting here and there. The whole thing really was a charm
They kept the wedding party very small, not wanting to leave someone out. Rock and Roll stood as groomsmen; Para and me as bridesmaids. A few of Granny T’s great-grandkids made for the cutest flower girls and ring bearers.
Apart from the ceremony, the wedding was out of this world. Scotty and Steve were there, as was Nod and his family. The general came and even gave a nice little speech. Scotty and Steve said a few words. Nod mostly nodded as he gave his rendition of a blessing over the wedding. He’s still a little shy. You could tell he was having a great time though.
This Journal is getting enough longevity to it that, who knows, it may have some historical significance someday. Perhaps it would be appropriate to drop in a few random scenes from the history making wedding.
After an amazing dinner and a few short speeches, someone began clinking their glass with a spoon. As you probably know, that is a crowd signal for the bride and groom to share a little kiss. Steve was uncharacteristically quiet, looking on with an odd sort of expression. His people don’t really have lips. They have a short almost-muzzle. I guess they sort of nuzzle muzzles. Para and I were concerned as he went running off; he isn’t the kind to be easily offended, but you can never be sure with an extrasolarling.
The next thing I heard was a loud banging, like a heavy metal serving spoon hitting a metal pot. Was he so incensed that he had gone on a rampage in the kitchen? Nope. He just didn’t think the tiny glass tinkling was sufficient to the occasion. The general finally had a brief word with him. Steve nodded, but then he smile/grimaced and banged at his pot a couple more times. Yeah, Steve can get a little carried away. He’s a lot of fun though.
Grandad hired a very good band. They played all sorts of different types of music. Of course, they played some good old rock. But there was a lot of variety, old tunes mixed with more modern music. There were even a few very old tunes.
The band quieted everyone down and said we were all going to do the Bunny Hop. File drop +. You may know all about the dance, but I’ll give a quick explanation just in case. All the dancers line up facing forward, holding the waist of the person in front of them. Then the music starts with an almost burlesque rhythm. At the same time, everyone kicks their right leg out to the right, and in, out again, and in. Left leg out to the left, and in, out again, and in. One big hop forward. One big hop backward. Then three big hops forward.
Here we go! Right leg, right leg; left leg, left; hop forward; hop backward. Forward hop, hop, hop. And it starts all over again as the long line of dancers’ bunny hops their way around the ballroom. Old and young, from Earth and beyond. Even Scotty. Yeah, even Scotty.
As we lined up for the dance people just sort of crowded in and you ended up where you ended up. Scotty ended up behind me. And a very refined older matron ended up behind Scotty. She was the wife of a high-ranking delegate of the League. Nice lady, but very proper. In her mid-50s if I had to guess. No aging therapy yet, for some reason. How she ended up with Scotty is beyond me. Anyway, she was a sport, and grabbed the topmost part of Scotty’s abdomen (if you can imagine) while the rest of the crowd grabbed the waist of the person in front of them.
Scotty was ready to have some fun by that time of the evening. He turned his head and looked at the lady. Of course, the actual sound of the harrumph came from his rump, his abdomen, which she was holding. Spiracles. He harrumphed and said, “Madam, please be watchin where ya be placin your hands.”
The lady let go and turned beet red, “Well...
Scotty rolled off to the side, laughing his spiracle filled abdomen off. To her credit, the lady recovered quickly and had a good laugh of her own. It was hysterical. As Scotty got back in line, the lady slapped him on the rump, abdomen, whatever, and we were off on another Bunny Hop. It gladdened my heart to see that interchange with Scotty. I think we’ve finally gotten over that nightmare invasion. Most of us have.
Steve taught the crowd a special wedding dance from his planet. I was a good sport and gave it a try, though it was a bit frenzied for my taste.
Nod lost his shyness as the evening progressed. They have weddings on Krull too. And dancing. Krull and his family taught us a traditional wedding dance. Simple beat from the bass drum. A large circle of dancers holding hands, moving around and around in a circle facing outside, then a complicated twist ends with everyone facing inside, followed by a mad dash into a center press. The music changes to a fast beat which leads to a backward summersault and each person spinning on the floor individually in freeform. Grandad said the individual dances by Nod and family reminded him of break-dancing, whatever that is.
More people looked on for that one than actually participated. Nod and family taught us a song too. It was simple but elegant and beautiful in its own way. I was a little surprised by that cultural glimpse into the worlds of Steve and Nod. Well, mostly Nod and family, since I’ve been to a celebration on Turkskee. There are just so many cultural similarities. Weddings. Dance. Music. Singing. Even Scotty’s people share cultural similarities with us. Scotty’s people don’t get married like we do. But they do enjoy dance, music, singing. And beer, of all things. Oh, that brings back some... memories. Anyway.
We may not be of the same flesh-and-blood, but there are all these resemblances.
Scotty sang a song for us. Those of Kreahaam have all those spiracles on their abdomen to exchange air. The talented among them use multiple spiracles to sing and even make distinct musical sounds, like an instrument. Scotty said he’s not very talented. But he sure sounded good to us, with all sorts of complex and captivating melodies.
The band helped out by pointing a soft spotlight at Scotty. The shift in iridescent colors from his outer plate scales was mesmerizing. I suppose most people have still not heard or seen a bug sing in person. It’s quite a sound and sight. The crowd roared for an encore. Seriously, during a band break I saw one of the guys go up to Scotty and try to get him to sign a contract.
Grandad and Granny T finally took their leave as the hour grew late. I found myself siting with Para and Roll talking about how life might have been if there had been no invasion, no Shockwave. Would we all have settled down and had families? What would life have been like? It’s hard to imagine.
Steve wandered over, smiling, with an extra drink in his hand. Some kind of tea, he said. Yeah, it was a Long Island Iced Tea. Steve sneaked one of those on me at a New Year’s Eve party once upon a time. How long have we known Steve? I wondered at this simple tea tradition; this little ritual. I smiled as I took what would be my only sip. There isn’t a drop of tea in that tea.
It was finally time to say my good-nights, though as it turned out, sleep would be a distant friend. My thoughts kept returning to our talk of a normal life apart from this intrusive war. And all the wonders that had taken place in my relatively short lifetime; all the adventures. My life would never be normal. I was sure of that. Too many horrors were watching and waiting for the opportunity to crush us back into the dust from which we came. I guess that’s all for the wedding story. It really was special. Grandad and Granny T are brave getting married with all that’s happening. Let’s at least finish this with a spin-up.
What a world we live in! Grandad and Granny T, Tee and Marj, look like they are in their 30s. They really don’t look much older than us Shockwave youngsters. Can you imagine? The wisdom of experience and accumulated knowledge combined with the energy, the vitality of youth. The future bodes well for us, I think. No, I know. It's complicated. Interstellar war and all. But I’m sure this isn't all happenstance. We're destined for something glorious. One way, or another, we are! It’s all part of the incredible tech boom since the terrible bug invasion, and medical science wasn’t left in the dust.
I read on the intelinet, many that undergo the rejuvenation process will be able to have children again. Usually that involved a minor operation, but can you imagine? Techniques to halt damage from free radicals. Nanite cell regimens were discovered along with new micro-enzymes. There’s mitochondrial resuscitation, telomere regeneration, and the other cell replication techniques. All the youth enhancement medications.
Having alien tech to tinker with helped. But it was probably the shock of invasion that pushed humanity into the great tech-leap. Trying to stay alive is a great motivator.
Quputers have been a big part of the forward motion. I’m old enough to remember the old quad-core processors with hyperthreading. They seemed so fast. The Journal tells me I already gave a little history on quputers and how they helped to build themselves. Okay, fine, the AI components did a lot of the work. Yeah, the folks who turned them loose to build their own hardware and software certainly broke the rules. Most of them sidestepped any jailtime too. It turned out fine in the end. Now we have hybrid machines that are so much faster than the old standbys.
Quantum computers were elbowing their way in slowly but surely even before the invasion. Then came the real quputers topped off with hyper search algorithms, drill-down analytics, adaptive intuitive modeling, heuristic spin sequencing modules. So much technological change.
Some of the new advances really are amazing. Primer tech, meets quantum tech, meets human genius, and you have all these amazing advances. The entertainment industry certainly helped push the related tech forward at breakneck speed. It’s hard to resist cashing-out on a device that produces a holocloud with perfect 3-D images, to fill your own personal space or an entire room. Or the new 3-D illuminators. They’ll probably take over. It all makes for marvelous entertainment.
Then there are the substantive applications. You’ve seen docuvids of a research analyst wandering around a room, taking a careful look at individual cells, or maybe a gene strand.
At the same time, I get why people feel a certain shock as the pace of life scales ever upward. You’ve probably caught one of the wakey-toons that warn of the latest syndromes to avoid. The old tech-fatigue was nothing compared to the pitfalls of modern tech-shock.
But it’s Grandad that sent me into a brain-twirl. He wasn’t exactly a guinea pig, but he and Marj were some of the firsties in the longevity program. They were both pushing deep into their 70s. True, they were in pretty good shape and all. Grandad’s nanites helped with his general framework. But he was slowing down. Now it’s as though he and Marj are 30-something.
We had better get out there soon and find a bunch of new Ea
rth-like planets. A baby boom is well under way and people are living to be as old as trees.
Old as trees. I was reading about that in the Bible, the book of Isaiah. Now, I’m not saying Isaiah was looking ahead to these days. There’s probably another meaning more fitting to the context. Just an observation. Yeah, I know, whatever, it’s complicated.
***
It’s May 2nd. I’m still worn out from the wedding, hoping for an easy go of it for the rest of the day. But first I need to stroll over for a quick meeting with the guys at Shockwave HQ. We need to put the final touches on our SRG report from the Crimson operation. While I’m waiting for Para, I’ll give a quick Journal update about the SRG.
The Squad Railgun is about to enter mass production. The weapon performed flawlessly against the Gall on Crimson. With that, the gun will probably replace the old 6.8 Squad Automatic Weapon. It will be an important asset in our prosecution of the invasion of the Empire. With the QuAI modeling process, I doubt the Primers could match the tolerance requirements of this beast of a weapon. It is, in a word, devastating. The thing isn’t just a downsized railgun either. There’s some spooky quantum mechanics mischief cooked into the mix.
Hi, Para. Oh, everyone’s here, and looking spun-up for the coming day.
Time to play the day away. “I’ll catch up with you guys downstairs.”
And my pid is screaming at me. All of our pids are jangling away in emergency tone. We’re not on call, so something big must be afoot. Let’s see the mission highlight.
The FTL destroyer prototype has been stolen. It’s a full gear mission, so Rock will port home to get ready, then pick me up.
***
We’ve just arrived at Solcom Staging Area Five. I’ll give some background to set the mission timeline as we sit here sweating in our gear, after hurrying up to wait for the action planners. Let’s see... where to start. Near the beginning, I suppose.
Invasion: Journal Three (Shockwave Book 3) Page 11
