Bach could barely speak. “I’m suffocating,” he said to Star. “These E-suits are supposed to withstand higher temperatures than this.” When she didn’t reply he turned to look and saw her face deathly white behind her headgear.
She swayed forward, voice fading. “Not the suits … the orange berries.” In desperation, she peeled off her headgear and gulped in the thick, hot air.
A sharp whistle from the chief summoned a statuesque, bronze-skinned woman from the sidelines. Black ostrich feathers fastened to white cording covered her delicate areas, and thick gold cuffs adorned her neck, wrists, and ankles. So bright were the whites of her eyes and teeth, Bach noticed nothing else of her face. She handed two wooden cups to the chief. He stirred them with his finger, made a cooing sound, then handed them back. She forced the cups into Bach’s and Star’s hands.
Bach eyed the concoction—slimy and red, like a pigeon’s blood. “We can’t drink this!” he stated. “We don’t understand your customs.”
“Elixir increases strength. Reveals most powerful and brave,” the chief declared. “Bravest chooses from possessions and family members, then rules Baalbek.”
Bach’s chest heaved with every breath.
The chief wrapped his huge hands around Bach’s headgear and lifted it off. He pointed his spear to his captive’s forehead and looked at the cup. “Drink!”
Bach’s eyes rolled up in his head. He pushed the cup toward the chief. “Can’t do this … ate berries … no time.”
The chief leaned his massive frame to within a few feet of Bach’s face. The native’s black-eyed gaze came with a push of his spear into Bach’s upper chest, making a wound just deep enough to pierce the skin. A rush of blood spread outward like a target on the white, sweat-soaked E-suit. “Drink!” said the chief. Next, he pointed to Star. “Drink!”
Unable to focus, she gagged. “What is it?”
“Strengthening elixir!”
With closed eyes, she tilted the cup of crimson slime. Words to Bach were a gurgle. “Don’t compete…!” Warlike chanting escalated when she slumped to the ground.
A final effort spewed from Bach’s lips, “I won’t drink this.”
Two underlings hovered over him. Words were unnecessary.
Head spinning, bathed in perspiration, Bach drank from the cup. He held back the swallow as long as he could, but before long his throat spasmed involuntarily and something that felt like a clot of congealed blood slid down his esophagus into his retching stomach. Hundreds of haughty eyes glared, and yelping voices rang in his ears as he entered a mental struggle to control his destiny and fight the effects of the sanguine sludge. When the elixir collided with the anesthetic effects of the orange berries, a final protest rolled off Bach’s thickened tongue and numb lips, “Can’t be part of your planet….” Then his ears rang, the surroundings turned double-imaged, and the ceremonial pyre cast a netherworldly glow on warpainted faces bobbing in and out of his sight. For a split second, a spark flashed from a decorated lance and, in his woozy mind, something looked like the Creator’s symbol. He turned to tell Star, but his thoughts ground to a halt, his head spiraled forward, and reason was no more.
The chief grumbled and flailed his hand above the catatonic pair. “Weak ones! Elixir finds no strength!”
Four natives carried Bach and Star to the base of the lookout tree, and the ceremony resumed. Yodeling men and women joined hands and performed a hopping, foot-stomping march as drumbeats echoed, flames blazed, and the arena swarmed with howling warriors brandishing pugil sticks and hurling boulders toward distant markers in an all-out bid for supremacy. Amid war cries and cheers, young and old battled each other, and round after round of flaming arrows found their marks in tree-stump and animal-skin targets.
An hour had passed when Bach began to awaken and his thought processes registered a distant sound. A drumbeat. I hear it and feel it pulsing in my stomach. Where am I? Teetering between stupor and awareness, he thought he felt something wet trickle over his nose and lips. The sensation was so real he slapped his face. Someone giggled. Flat on his back, he opened one eye, then the other. High above in the lookout tree, the lion-faced boy swung a bucket, splashing more water down on his head. Bach propped himself up against the tree trunk and brushed the water from his E-suit. He noticed the ring of blood and ran his hand over the circular stain. The wound beneath hurt at his touch. A slow, deep breath of the stifling air brought a whisper aloud just to hear himself speak, “I’m still alive … but my head’s splitting.” He reached over and touched Star’s limp body on the ground beside him and gently whisked her long dark hair from her face. That’s when he saw two pairs of bare feet close by, one larger than the other. He looked up.
A muscular, dark-skinned man looked down. Painted silver wings adorned the man’s upper body and brown woven fabric covered him from waist to knees. The pretty woman beside him wore a gauzy yellow tunic that matched painted yellow spirals encircling her arms and legs. She scolded the boys in the tree and chased them away, then knelt beside Bach and passed a cluster of white flowers under his nose. “Inhale,” she instructed. He closed his eyes and did as she said while she talked. “The two brothers are the last children on our planet. Troublesome they are, but they saved you from harm by giving you hex berries. They took you out of competition.” She moved to Star’s side and passed a cluster of white flowers under her nose.
Star awakened to a dizzying hum of sounds inside her head. “Ohhh, what happened?”
“You endured a mix of hex berries and the warrior’s potion,” the woman replied. “The berries prevailed. You’re lucky the elixir of strength didn’t.”
Holding his forehead, Bach groaned and again sniffed the invigorating flowers. “Elixir or not, we don’t have the strength to compete against your people.”
“Strength is our gift,” the man said. His body reflected his statement. “The Creator gives everyone a gift.”
The natives sponged the Alphamates’ dust-coated faces with moist, almond-scented leaves and, as Bach’s and Star’s senses returned, gave them mint-flavored seeds to eat to lower their body temperature and neutralize the effects of both the hex berries and elixir.
Bach looked around to get his bearings and noticed the natives’ spears poked into the ground alongside his and Star’s headgear. The symbol he thought he’d seen on a spear by the fire just before he passed out, hung from both of the spears. Am I still dreaming? Legs wobbling, he stood and touched the crossed circle. “The Creator,” he said. “I don’t believe it … you just said something about the Creator.”
“Yes.” The woman pointed to her mate. “Jett and I commune with him.”
“And your name?” Bach asked.
“Maya.”
“Maya and Jett, we’re here to take you with us.”
“We cannot leave,” Maya whispered. “Jett must win the challenge.”
Jett nodded. “Then I will decree sovereignty for my planet.”
To be sure that no one else could hear, Bach moved close to the natives. “My name is Bach. Star and I are under instructions from the Creator to find two chosen ones from Baalbek.” He pointed to the symbol. “This is the sign we seek to fulfill a special mission. Please come with us.”
Maya spoke with hushed excitement. “A special mission! Jett saw a bright light in the sky outlining clouds that formed that symbol. He claimed it as a sign of the four winds guiding us. Now I understand. It was the Creator’s signal.”
“Yes, his calling. The time has come,” Bach said.
As if planned, the noisy competition stopped—no gongs, no snail shell signals, just an unexpected end. From twenty yards away, a group of natives pressed forward like animals with hungry eyes, waiting for a signal from their leader to charge.
Maya and Jett stood stock-still with Bach and Star beside them.
Faint war cries rose from the pack and the two pint-sized snitches pushed their way to the forefront, jabbing the air with their little spears as they moved to
the chief’s side with their tiny white teeth bared.
The chief burned a long gaze at Jett from across the distance and raised his lance horizontally over his head in a confrontational stance.
Jett accepted the challenge, pointing his spear at the crowd as he walked to the right. Maya grabbed Bach’s and Star’s headgear from the ground and handed it to them, then used her spear as a barrier to usher them around the arena’s perimeter. “Stay behind us.”
Midway around the ceremonial circle, Jett stopped, stepped forward, and faced the high chief with his left fist pressed to his heart. Hundreds of stunned faces looked on. Without waiting for reaction, Jett lunged and thrust his spear with Herculean strength toward the man-shaped rock target. The weapon sliced across the arena, the two target guards scattered, and Jett’s bullseye in the red fabric heart set in motion a ground-rattling thunder of yowls and stomps.
Maya whispered, “A bullseye has never been achieved from this distance. A spear in the idol’s heart is the final test in deciding who rules. Competition should take place much closer to the target.”
The chief grew angry that Jett had bypassed the preliminary competitions with marksmanship above any opponent’s who might reach the deciding challenge. He thumped his feet on the ground and let out a long, piercing cry. Silence followed.
Using Maya’s spear, Jett struck the ground three times, then turned his back and walked away—an indication he would battle the final victor and the chief.
A loud, continuous yodel rose from the crowd.
Jett and Maya slowly led Bach and Star toward the main pathway. Jett spoke in a half-whisper, “Now I have time to plan a getaway.”
Bach pressed to Jett’s side. “Animals. We need animals from Baalbek. How can we get them before the ritual ends without your leaders knowing?”
Jett pushed him along. “Our two most perfect of all breeds are nearby—held for sacrifice. I’ll remain here as if awaiting the final challenge while Maya leads you there.”
Maya squeezed Jett’s hand and stared into his eyes with concern. “Move swiftly to flee just before the next event.”
“Our ship is at the co-op crews’ landing site,” Bach added.
Jett nodded. “I saw you land.”
*****
Bach, Star, Maya, and the animals made it to the Alpha without incident. Star led Maya to the E-module, then secured the animals while Bach readied for takeoff and watched the monitor for Jett.
But when a worrisome length of time had passed with no sign of Jett on the monitor, Bach feared something had gone wrong. An adrenaline rush propelled him from his seat. “Jett’s in trouble, Star. I’m going back for him.”
She grabbed his arm. “You don’t stand a chance against all those natives. Enlarge the view area on the monitor. He might be coming in a different way.”
Star was right. Jett had zigzagged through the jungle, and now, like a track star with angry competitors on his heels, neared Alpha on a different footpath. Jett bellowed Bach’s and Star’s names from an eighth of a mile away, and a minute later let out a war cry as he raced up the ramp.
Star fired the thrusters and pointed to a wall alcove. “Strap down there, Jett.”
Spears and arrows glanced off of Alpha’s hull as Bach lifted her off.
*****
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
With Alpha flying on auto, Bach added Maya’s and Jett’s names to the roster. Obbo and Ivy, the short statured couple from mystical planet Gihon, came to the flight deck just as they said they would. Obbo paced with excitement. “Can’t wait to watch and learn. Can’t wait. We’ve been in the E-pod too long and have explored everything and welcomed the newest arrivals.”
Bach helped the two onto the bench seat. “There’s not much we can show you right now. The ship’s programmed to fly itself.” He got up and stood behind them. “Slide over here into the pilot’s seat and see what it’s like to fly the ship. Just don’t touch anything.”
The huge control panel loomed like a mountain in front of Ivy and Obbo. Unable to see out, they sat up as high as they could and watched the viewscreens. The two questioned Bach on the function of dozens of devices, then pretended to fly the ship.
“Where to go? Where to go?” said Obbo.
“Somewhere from never before. Never before,” Ivy replied, enthralled.
“Never been anywhere before. Never before,” he said, chuckling.
Bach spoke from behind the mock pilots, “Earlier, when we took the long way around, we lost time. We’re farther from Shushan than we should be … have some catching up to do, but it gives me time for a little nap.” He leaned over Star’s shoulder. “The ship’s on inertial guidance. I’ll be in a hammock.”
“You’ll sleep better in a privacy room.”
He rubbed his eyes. “Yeah, but in there I’d probably never wake up. Better stay out here in a hammock.”
Star enjoyed Ivy and Obbo’s playful banter as they monitored the flight data indicators and rattled off statistics to each other. She commented over her shoulder, “You certainly caught on fast.”
“Love it, love it.” Obbo chortled with glee.
“Just remember,” Star added, “the Kingship is programmed to fly by itself, so don’t touch anything.”
The passageway door slid open and Urich and Rain entered the main cabin, giggling and holding hands like typical newlyweds. Urich headed to the cockpit. “Star, is there anything we can help with on this mission?”
“Thanks for asking,” she said, “but our plans keep changing as we go.” She hoisted the travel journal from its slot, “Let’s see what our next planet, Shushan, has in store.”
“Oh, let me read it,” Rain said. “There wasn’t much to read on my planet and I love to read and learn.”
“Great. I’ll take a little break.” Star handed the journal to Rain, then settled into a hammock near Bach at mid ship.
Rain caressed the book’s pages with her hands. Just touching the written words seemed to bring her pleasure. With Urich at her side, she began reading about Shushan. In a few minutes, the story of cold weather and inhabitants with similar characteristics intrigued Obbo and Ivy and they stepped away from the flight deck to hear more. Rain’s deep, full voice pouring over the words held everyone’s interest.
Obbo touched Rain’s arm. “You just read something about similar characteristics of Shushan’s people. What does that mean?”
She looked back at the page. “It doesn’t say.”
“And you read about cold.” Urich added. “I don’t understand what cold would be like.”
“One time I saw cold in my crystal ball,” Ivy interjected. “A vision. Something solid falling through the air, tiny white fluffs drifting down. Drifting, drifting, more and more, piling higher, higher.” Her voice grew dramatic and intense, and fluttering hands punctuated her speech. “Turning vicious … swirling, blowing, pounding the land. Things shriveled, animals froze, then….”
“Then? Then what?” Urich asked.
“My globe cleared.”
“What’s a globe?”
“A crystal ball. I brought one … want to see?”
“Oh, no,” Urich said, as if issuing a warning. “Sounds bad. I don’t want to see it.”
Rain interrupted, “Oh, here. I found something in the log. It says, ‘Experimentation by the Ultimate World altered their genetic code, creating similar characteristics.’” She looked over at Star, who was slumped sideways, fast asleep. “Our leaders are getting much-needed rest.”
Urich tapped on the journal to get Rain’s attention. “What does Shushan contribute to the co-op exchange? If it’s cold there all the time, what could survive?”
“It says water is their main product. ‘It’s purity and clarity is like no other.’ They also provide fish and animals.” She read on, “‘Dura’s crews taught Shushan’s residents to operate simple mechanical devices. They continue to provide improved energy sources for power, light, and heat.’” She closed the journal
. “That’s it.”
Rain returned the log to the cockpit as Obbo followed along. “Rain, Rain, an interesting name. Why is it Rain?” he asked.
“My name? My mother died on the day of my birth and the sky opened up and wept, pouring forth rain needed for twenty phases. It is said that my birth holds a special connection to the Creator and his gift of rain. Our family totem is a star embraced by a water droplet.”
At the mention of rain, something tapped against the Kingship’s metal hull. The craft’s speed decreased significantly, but no one was at the controls. Urich jumped up and looked out the windows with Rain, Ivy, and Obbo alongside.
A funnel of hail swirled around the ship, and the windows iced over before their eyes, plunging the cabin into near darkness. Alarms bonged and lights flashed in the cockpit as the four rushed to roust the dead-to-the-world pilots from their sleep.
Ivy jostled Star.
Obbo tugged at Bach’s feet. “Up, up, doom is near.”
Half awake, Bach’s subconscious processed the machine-gun-like noise. That’s not random tinks like when space debris collides. This is coming hard, and faster by the second.
“Hurry, Bach,” Urich pled, “something terrible’s happening.”
With bells and buzzers sounding, Bach raced to the controls. “An ice storm with hail; a comet’s tail!” he snorted. “We’re not pre-programmed to handle anything this sudden or fierce. Hurry everyone, back into the E-module.”
Star analyzed a glut of stats scrolling down a laser screen. “What’s going on? We’re in airspace above planet Shushan. How did we get here? We haven’t been airborne long enough to have come this far.”
Bach focused on the electro-brain panel. “This is crazy. It’s like we just cut the middle out of the trip.”
Star shook her head as if trying to clear cobwebs from her brain. “It’s not feasible!”
“We’ll figure it out later,” he said. “We gotta get through this ice storm. The whole planet’s surrounded. Defrost system’s on full bore, but it’s coming so fast it’s replacing what was defrosted.”
Alpha Rising Page 20
