The Starchild

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The Starchild Page 21

by Schuyler Thorpe


  “Can’t say that for certain either. But she seems to be drained of the experience.”

  “So she’s okay?”

  “I wouldn’t say that either until I get a good look at her overall medical profile. Where did you say she came from again? The lower levels?”

  “The surface.” Bayen informed the healer. “She’s from the surface.”

  “There’s rules in place governing treatment of their kind.” The healer said, before standing up. “And I’m sure that you know what those are–right?”

  “I am aware of the Oath every healer took to preserve the sanctity of life–regardless of where it came from. “Do no harm”--or am I mistaken on that front?” Fran argued hotly.

  “That may be true, but the Praetorial Senate is very adamant on matters such as these. The most I can give her is a light sedative. But that’s all I’m required under the law. She will have to seek treatment some where’s else.”

  “I can treat her.” Fran announced, startling both her son and the healer at the same time.

  “You’ll be breaking the law if you do, Mom.” Bayen was telling her.

  “It’s my choice, Bayen. But I won’t stand by and watch her suffer any more.” She said, even as the healer hit me with a light sedative which relaxed me even more.

  My eyes rolled back and I pretty much faded out from this world and into the next.

  ~27~

  I could not recall anything else after whatever happened in the kitchen. My mind was a total blank. But on the edge of my vision…shadows played and danced to an unheard of tune and I felt drawn to some of them, while being repelled by others.

  The naked fears of yesterday collided with the hopes of tomorrow and a future existence which beguiled the imagination.

  And I was stuck right in the middle of it.

  And at this point…I had a better picture of myself as well. Gone was the red dress and stylish matching pumps. But a rippling costume which bled snow white, a red stylized star at the center of my chest, ice blue moon stones for collar pips, and silver bracelets at each of my tapered wrists.

  On the sides of my hips, I brandished a different type of blaster which would herald the engine of destruction–entropic waves of death and insanity–and I would be its mistress.

  My eyes bled an indigo violet, my skin pulsating with pure power on a scale that dwarfed anything I could put a finger on and in the middle of all this, I was standing toe to toe with the Destroyer–The God of Insanity.

  Floating in space like the chariot of the gods…a big white behemoth that dwarfed even the space complex itself.

  And I stood ready.

  But in that instant, my vision quest of power and pure destruction decided to take a powder and return me to this world and the feelings of Bayen touching my face every so gently.

  I reached out and grabbed his hand and held it firmly in place. He didn’t even protest. Not once.

  I exhaled sharply–taking my first deep breath since falling unconscious.

  “H-how…long?” I rasped through dry lips.

  “A couple of hours.” Bayen said quietly, before producing a glass of much needed water for me to drink.

  “Thirsty?”

  “Yes.” I managed with raw ferocity–trying to grip the glass in my weakened state. But Bayen pushed my hand away and had me sit up so I could drink with his assistance.

  The look on his worried face said everything to me in that instant.

  “Was it that…bad?” I managed out with a kernel of fear worming its way into the pits of my empty stomach.

  “There was some odd flash burns in the floor tiling where you were–doing whatever it was that you were doing.” He said.

  “I don’t remember much about the experience.” I professed then. “Just the words that had a strange connection to me.”

  “You mean from the book itself?” Bayen asked of me. “Mom went and locked the book away for safekeeping–thinking that it might still pose a further danger to you.”

  “No!” I responded harshly. “She can’t do that! It’s my only connection to the past!”

  Bayen looked at me with complete surprise. “The past? Yours?”

  I shook my head in confusion. “I don’t know. All I know is that one book…it…” I trailed off–trying to find the right words. But everything was a glorified fucking mess for me right now.

  “I need to see it. Now.”

  It was not a request.

  But Bayen was resistant to the idea. “I’d rather not. Not until we figure out what’s going on with you, um…freaking out like that.”

  “I wouldn’t be freaking out if whatever is tied to me would stop using me for its own dark purposes!” I fired back at him hotly–my face flushed with rage.

  “Wait…what?”

  I sighed. “In the few seconds I was on the floor–I was on the floor…right?”

  Bayen nodded. “Yes. You are.”

  “Something spoke to me.” I said in a mad rush of words. “Something so ancient that it tripped my imagination. I thought for a second I was speaking with my dad–before he disappeared or died in prison.”

  Bayen didn’t say anything to me at that point. He just listened as I rambled on.

  “But the voice kept repeating the same thing over and over again while my body was being torn apart by whatever it was trying to feed into me. I think it wanted me to become something more.”

  “Like what? What was it saying to you?”

  “It’s weird, Bayen. But the voice kept repeating the same words over and over again: The weak shall perish. The weak shall perish. The weak…shall perish. And it kept repeating.”

  “Why?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know. But then I had a vision while I was out cold. I was dressed in a costume of some sorts. Nothing I could recognize. But I was power incarnate. I could feel the essence of the entire universe flow right through me like rain water. It was so real.”

  “Perhaps it was.” Came the sky dancer’s neutral reply. “But then again…it could be something else more telling.”

  “Bayen, I would have virtually no reason to lie about my experiences. You should know that.”

  “I wasn’t suggesting otherwise. It just seems so unreal at this point. But I can’t discount what the healer found inside you when he did a medical scan.”

  I looked at him in horror. “What was inside me?”

  “A foreign object. At the molecular level. It’s embedded in your tissues. But he wouldn’t say where though.”

  “Christ…” I breathed. “That’s what it was. I should have known about it.”

  “Wait, you already…knew?”

  I nodded sheepishly. “Yes. I knew. But I thought it was leftover shrapnel wounds from that one race about five years ago. Calis was giving me some pretty evasive answers each and every time a medical scan was done on me in the years hence.”

  “So it could be…this–whatever this is inside your body?” Bayen said as an afterthought. “The one thing with the voice?”

  “I don’t know if you would call it a voice, but I guess you could translate it down to more like a presence.”

  “Does this presence have a name?”

  I nodded.

  “The Source of Chaos.” I responded aptly.

  “That’s a bit of a mouthful.” He tried to joke at my expense. But the look on my face was telling him I wasn’t in the mood.

  Certainly not for this.

  “Okay. That was out of line. Sorry.”

  I watched him intently for a few more seconds, my gaze boring into his eyes and then nodded.

  “Fair enough. But I wasn’t kidding.”

  “So what is…this source?”

  “Source.” I responded peevishly. “First name only. It‘s not a description.”

  “Like a…deity of some kind?”

  I shrugged indifferently at that. “Hard to say. I only became aware of it during…whatever it was that happened to me. I think the Source
was trying to imbue me with something important. But the transference wouldn’t take.”

  “Your attire fluctuated. I saw something…I don’t know what it was, but it looked kinda cool on you.”

  I stared at him in that moment.

  “Cool? You think it was cool on me?”

  “If you finished, uh, transforming–? Then yeah.” Bayen answered with a bit of hesitant trepidation in his voice.

  “I don’t think you would say that if you knew what was blowing through my mind at that moment, Bayen.”

  “Like what for example?”

  “Trust me: It’s not for the faint of heart.” I answered with a barely repressed shudder of my own.

  Bayen noticed how distressed I was and moved in to calm me down.

  “Hug?” He offered out of the blue.

  I stared at him for a second, before I broke out into a much needed smile of my own.

  “Please.” I said, opening myself up to him in that moment. But only for a moment. My nerves were still raw and every inch of me felt horribly violated in the worst possible way.

  I never asked for this. Not once. And I wasn’t sure who to blame.

  But feeling Bayen wrap his arms around me in a moment of comfort and friendship made me realize just how much I missed everyone else that had come and gone in my life: Paula, Cara, dad…

  So many faces, so many lost chances.

  Tears stung in my eyes then as I tried to keep the overwhelming feelings of loss and pain from myself–on top of this total shit show that had now taken control of my life.

  Now that I knew what it was which had been plaguing me for the past five years at any rate.

  Add the recent dreams which I had of me floating through space and it was a fucking recipe for disaster. I did not want what this entity was trying to give me.

  Not at all.

  “Why is this happening, Bayen…? Why?” I murmured half to myself.

  “I don’t know, Isis. I don’t know. But we’ll get through this. I can promise you that much.”

  I shuddered in his strong embrace. “I’m…I’m scared.” I mewed softly.

  “So am I. Believe it or not. I’ve never seen such a raw display like that before. Not since–” Then he stopped for a moment to consider his choice of words.

  But the longer he was silent, the more it made things worse for the two of us.

  “What? What is it?”

  “Perhaps it’s time I show you something.” He volunteered out in to the open.

  “Does it have to do with my experience in the kitchen?”

  “It may. But then again, I’m not sure how much of it actually pertains to you.”

  “Well…anything is better than fishing in the dark on this matter. Right?”

  Bayen nodded with a small smile of his own.

  “True.” He admitted freely. “That’s true.” Then he broke away from me in that moment and I felt momentarily disconnected from the feelings and sensations which were coursing through my nubile body at that moment.

  I never been in the company of a boy before, never got the chance to be held by one–outside of my father and one or two uncles of my immediate family–but just being in Bayen’s arms at this very moment was sending small shocks of electricity and excitement through my pores and into the rest of my body.

  I definitely did like him holding me! That was for sure!

  In that instant, I had this wanting look on my face that translated into so much in this brief moment of space and time.

  But Bayen was already up and gone by the time my attention was focused on this emotional pull, this need which had no formal name, and I sat there for a second to revel in the feeling of his closeness and committing that sensation to memory.

  “Come on. This won’t take long.” He promised me then, holding out his hand.

  I climbed up off the bed and hit the floor bare-footed–my red pumps lying on the side in a small an unintentional heap next to a small pile of damp wash rags. I never even asked him what those were used for as I took his hand in mine and allowed myself the luxury of being led out of my intended guest bedroom and out into the hallway landing that connected to four other rooms besides mine.

  We passed the living room once again and made our way towards the rear of the spacious apartment where another small flight of stairs led up instead of down and I started to wonder what Bayen’s overall game plan was.

  “This way.” He informed me, taking two steps at a time and herding me up as he went. I followed of course, more curious about what he was going to show me than anything else.

  Unlocking the door, he pushed it open and stepped inside.

  I followed of course–more eager to see the inside of a guy’s room for the very first time. Of course, I also expected to be spoiled because I knew from dealing with my little brother, boys tended to be pigs from time to time.

  But Bayen’s room was something else.

  And I was blown away from the experience.

  “Whoa.” Was my immediate response, trying to figure out the balance between a heartfelt fantasy and full blown reality.

  For starters, there was nary a light source of any kind. The room had no diffusing light panels overhead. Just…candles.

  Some were lit, others remained blown out, but there were night stands, candle stands, one solitary wrought iron candle holder at the center of the room which held a menagerie of lit candles wrapped around its base and middle–with five or six at the top for effect.

  “Bayen…this is beautiful.” I whispered in awe.

  “It gets a little hot in here, so mom had a portable AC unit installed at the rear of the room so there would be constant air flow.” The sky dancer told me as he moved deeper into his room, past his immaculately made bed, and towards an array of blank and half-finished canvases which played host to a myriad of images or scenes both far and wide.

  With some hitting too close to home.

  Seeing such things left me visibly confused and perplexed.

  “Bayen…some of these paintings…?” I ventured slowly.

  “Yes? Oh, those. Yes, those were done a few years ago. But that’s not the ones that I want you to see.”

  “But–”

  “I can explain later. But for right now…?” He said as a matter of personal urgency. “Come.”

  Shelving any more questions about what I found on my own accord, I broke away from the lined wall of stacked canvases and half-finished paintings and went with Bayen.

  It didn’t take me long to find out what he wanted to show me.

  “This one was done only last month–before you even arrived.” He offered in the ways of an apology.

  I stopped in my tracks and stared. Really stared.

  “Oh my god…” I whispered in blind shock.

  The painting was almost the exact same scene in the kitchen with the likeness of me on the floor–writhing in pain and agony and shooting off all kinds of energy fireworks and contrails. My body double glowed with an ethereal fire all its own, but I couldn’t understand how this could have happened in the first place.

  I reached out to touch the painting, my fingers briefly coming into contact with the finished canvas.

  “How can this…be?” I demanded of him then. “How can I be here when you and Fran had never met me?”

  “Like I told mom earlier after you passed out: “Life is full of strange bedfellows”–and I think you and I have something in common because of it.” Bayen tried to explain, moving past the standing painting at the center of his art studio and he moved to retrieve another one from next to the window.

  Then another. Then another. A third. A fourth. Seven in all.

  Each ones showing different scenes.

  Each ones showing me.

  ~28~

  “How…how is this even possible?” I asked bluntly, feeling a bit scared and intimidated by what I was witnessing with my own eyes.

  “If I show you something, will you keep it a secret?” Bayen asked
of me then.

  I nodded vigorously. “Sure.”

  The sky dancer nodded and then went over to one of his dressers and opened the top drawer and pulled something heavy out which had been wrapped in fabric and tied off with a simple string.

  “When you mentioned that you had to meet Solomon Greer, this immediately popped into my mind. I thought it might have something to do with your search for the legendary Starchild of Ancient Lore.”

  “Bayen…” I breathed in frank annoyance. “That’s not why I’m up here.”

  “Still…it doesn’t hurt.” He said, undoing the simple knot and then peeling away the fabric.

  “I’m serious. I have no interest in the legend or the myths.”

  “That’s not what you were saying in your sleep.” He said with a brief grin. Then he finished undoing the last layer and exposed what had been hidden for quite some time.

  It was a shard. A twisted piece of glittering metal–measuring roughly about four inches across and a half inch wide.

  From a survivor’s standpoint, it would make a passable weapon. In the right hands of course.

  I stared at it with some trepidation on my part.

  “Where did you get this?” I asked warily.

  “An old friend of my mom’s found it in the lower levels a couple months ago–right before the Business District went on strike. Rumor has it that it was used to help cure an old man of some mental health issues surrounding his late wife.” Bayen said, taking the shard and handing it to me.

  “But I think with what’s going on, it would be more safer with you.”

  I immediately scoffed at that idea. “Like hell. No way on Earth am I touching that thing. I already have enough problems as it is.”

  “Well, it’s no use to me. I’ve been holding onto it for awhile now. I don’t think it’s harmful. It just needs a home.” Bayen was telling me.

  I refused on grounds of my already crumbling sanity.

  “No fucking way. You hold onto it.”

  “Isis–”

  “Sorry. My mind’s made up.” I said, backing up slowly.

  Bayen watched me and then nodded. “Well, if you were ever to change your mind, it’ll be right here in the top shelf of my dresser drawer.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t think Fran would approve of me sneaking in to your room in the weird hours of the night just for that.”

 

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