‘Well, that seems to explain how they got in,’ mumbled the chief at last.
‘We must make them our allies,’ the president decided resolutely. ‘With them as our enemies we would be safe nowhere!’
‘Understood.’ Ronan made a move for the door. ‘I’ll sleep en route.’
‘You do plan on coming back, don’t you, Ronan?’ Tallak waylaid the chief, wary that everyone who had set foot on Kila had defected.
‘Are you kidding?’ Ronan recaptured some of his old gusto. ‘This place would fucking fall apart without me!’
The president seemed reassured by his outburst.
‘I’ll leave Norward in charge,’ Ronan grumbled, ‘but I’ll take my acting science advisor, Dacre, and see if we can find some answers.’
‘I’ll look forward to your report.’ The president dismissed the chief.
Ronan strolled out of the presidential office and then made a beeline for a suitable transport and some much-needed sleep.
Zelimir Ronan awoke with a start, to find his science advisor leaning over him with a cup of coffee.
‘We’re nearly there, Chief.’ Dacre placed the coffee cup in the appropriate inset in the table in front of Ronan.
‘We can’t be nearly there,’ Ronan protested, as the trip to Kila was estimated to take nearly a full day, Maladaan time.
‘You must have needed the sleep,’ the young scientist advised, ‘I know I did.’ He took the seat beside the chief and was silent a few moments. ‘I’ve been feeling a little strange since that blast,’ he commented and Ronan was interested to hear this.
‘Define strange?’ he requested.
Dacre became defensive. ‘I’m fine, really. I’ve just had vivid dreams, that’s all.’
Ronan sighed, realising that as he was head of the MSS, there wasn’t a person alive who would admit to being psychic in his presence, any more than he would admit to having a psychic talent himself. As he didn’t want to distress his science advisor, Ronan changed the subject. ‘Have we made contact with Chailida?’
‘Yes, Chief, we are to be met by Lord Avery upon arrival,’ the lad advised, becoming lost in a daydream. ‘Pretty place,’ Telmo stated and then, snapping out of his daze, he turned to view the aquamarine planet they were approaching to add, ‘I imagine. Are you not apprehensive of walking among so many psychics, Chief? Being that we are defenceless against them?’
Ronan swallowed hard on fifty years of guilt. ‘There comes a time when every man must face his fears and hope for the best.’ He looked aside to Dacre. ‘You seem almost excited.’ The chief felt his new science advisor had more balls than he’d given him credit for.
‘I’m a naturally optimistic person,’ Telmo forced a grin.
The lad’s auric body was extremely clear compared to most in the MSS, Ronan noted on the quiet. ‘Perhaps I should try that some time?’ Ronan reached for the coffee, although his heart was already racing.
What if he was walking straight into a trap? Those who had defected to Kila already certainly held no love for him. The chief sipped at the coffee, considering what the Governor of Kila might have been told of him already and his heart beat faster still. This is pure fear. Zelimir recognised it, although he had not allowed himself to feel it for a long, long time. But now, as he sought mercy himself, all the wrong he’d done by others came flooding back to haunt him. All the emotions he should have felt in every single one of those merciless instances overpowered him at once and he was helpless to stop the explosion of feeling that filled his long-hollow chest. The pain shot up from his heart and wedged in his throat, where he tried to contain it and push it back down. But the regret burned and built to a point that he had to release the evil energy ball or suffocate on the blockage. The pain shot up into his head where it lodged behind his eyes and they moistened with tears. No, this is unacceptable. I am the Chief of the Maladaan Secret Service and I do not cry! Ronan attempted to stop the memories and the tears and pull himself together. He pushed the pain back down through his throat, which sent shooting pain down his left arm and he began to choke once more.
‘Chief?’ Dacre seemed to be yelling to him from some distance away. ‘Are you okay?’
Ronan nodded in response, and focused on pushing the pain down into his chest. The pressure of a lifetime of evil deeds proved too much for his unhealthy heart to take and it stopped dead.
All Zelimir Ronan’s physical senses fell away one by one; his hearing was the last to go. Ronan’s perception of the world soared upwards to where he could see poor Agent Dacre apply emergency cardiopulmonary resuscitation while alerting the rest of their diplomatic envoy to the fact their leader had had a heart attack. Ronan’s personal bodyguards were looking over his lifeless carcass shaking their heads as Dacre gave up the fight to bring Ronan back.
Where do you think you’re going?
Ronan’s perception shifted to one side where he was stunned to find Lord Avery. Am I dead?
Not for long. The Lord beckoned with his finger for Ronan to accompany him back down closer to his abandoned form. Your death would prove a political nightmare, so I fear I cannot allow it just yet.
As Ronan was drawn, through no will of his own, back towards his decrepit form, his base human emotions began to surface, like resentment. Who are you that you can deny a man a peaceful demise?
I told you, I am the Lord of the Otherworld. The roguish being grinned. You just never bothered to inquire as to what that meant.
Ronan’s consciousness was expanding rapidly with the revelation that firstly, there was a life after death and secondly, that this being could co-exist in both the world of the deceased and the world of the living. I find this completely perplexing.
Hold that thought … I’ll explain everything when you get back. The Otherworldly Lord directed Ronan towards his defunct form and the chief’s perception hurtled towards his earthly body and into an unconscious state.
It was not easy to be in the shoes of Telmo Dacre at this precise moment. He was scarcely able to breathe for the fear of now being the main envoy on this maiden political visit to an alien planet. He’d been excited when he’d had Chief Ronan to hide behind; now the only advisors he had were two complete meatheads and the flight crew.
‘We have landed,’ the bodyguard prompted Dacre, and handed him Ronan’s communication watch, the call-code of which was known to President Tallak and their contact on Kila. ‘You’d best get out there and greet our hosts.’
Telmo held a hand up to buy a moment and took a deep breath. ‘I am good,’ he decided and moved to precede the bodyguards out the door of their spacecraft, just as the ground crew from Kila were unloading their chief onto a stretcher via the rear door.
‘Don’t be too concerned,’ said the tall, fair Lord who was waiting to greet Telmo as he disembarked. ‘He just needs a little time in our healing temple and he’ll recover.’
Telmo choked back both shock and laughter; shock that someone could recover from death and laughter at the thought of the ruthless Zelimir Ronan in a healing temple. ‘He’s not dead?’ He squeezed out the query. ‘I was sure he’d stopped breathing.’
‘Happily, for the both of us, that is not the case,’ Kila’s official assured Telmo and a massive weight lifted from the scientist’s shoulders.
‘Oh … thank goodness for that.’ Telmo’s relief came blurting out. Realising that he must not be making a very good impression, he calmed down and introduced himself. ‘I am Telmo Dacre, Chief Ronan’s science advisor.’ He looked into the Lord’s amber eyes and felt something stir deep within him.
‘I know who you are.’ The Lord smiled warmly in greeting. ‘Let’s see how long it takes for everybody else to work it out.’
‘Pardon?’ Telmo was enchanted by the Lord’s friendly air and took an instant liking to him.
The Lord winked, as if they were both party to a secret that Telmo didn’t understand, and then held out a hand in greeting, ‘I am Avery —’
‘Lord Avery.
’ Telmo recognised the name as their contact on Kila.
The Lord laughed. ‘No, just Avery. Follow me, Telmo, and I’ll show you to the governor. It might be best for your companions to wait with the craft, however, as no weapons are permitted in our fair city.’
It was only now that Telmo even noticed how heavily the guards were armed; it would take ages for them to strip themselves of all their hardware and thus Dacre agreed they should wait with the craft.
Kila’s official led off and then, glancing back at Agent Dacre, he chuckled. ‘Wait until the governor sees you,’ the Lord uttered under his breath, as he led Dacre from the launch deck and indoors.
They entered a large airy departure lounge, containing a few seats and a bathroom. ‘This is the governor’s private landing pad,’ Avery explained as they crossed the splendid foyer towards another large set of glass double doors. The breathtaking garden beyond drew Telmo’s attention until the glass doors before them simply vanished as they approached.
Telmo, as a scientist, was fascinated and stopped inside the doorway to inspect where the doors had gone.
‘It’s particle manipulation, using a sonic trigger to excite the particles of the barrier into a heightened state of vibration, whereby they rise beyond their physical state into a higher plane of existence,’ Avery explained to the scientist.
‘Zero Point Field Technology,’ he mumbled.
‘That’s exactly right,’ Avery said.
‘Whoa …’ breathed Telmo, inspired.
There had been a scientist on Maladaan who had done some research into Zero Point Field Theory, which had fascinated Telmo as a student. Her name was Dr Taren Lennox and although her theories had not been very popular with mainstream academia on Maladaan, it seemed now that she was really onto something.
‘I must introduce you to our head technologist, Floyd,’ Avery stated, ‘I think you’d have a lot to discuss.’
‘Floyd,’ Telmo repeated the name and again he felt a distant memory stir.
An image flashed in his mind, of a blue-eyed, smiling fellow, who was seated before a large array of monitors. Then he saw the same fellow all dressed in a metal suit of armour, bloodied from battle. Then, in the next flash, the same man was in a temple, dressed in long white flowing robes that were girdled with brightly coloured sashes.
The scientist held his head, for the images were incredibly clear.
‘Starting to come back to you now, is it?’ Avery steadied the young man.
‘I’ve been having weird visions ever since the planetary shift happened,’ Telmo confessed, and then gasped on the regret of his openness.
‘Relax, Telmo,’ Avery insisted, ‘I know all about your memories.’
Again, Telmo gasped and took a step away from his host. ‘How could you know?’
‘I am the Lord of the Otherworld,’ Avery said, ‘it is my job to know everything.’
Telmo frowned in his disbelief, as the image of a completely different being filled his mind, along with a query. ‘What happened to Gwyn ap Nudd?’ he asked and then near choked on the shock of realising he did not understand why he’d asked the question. ‘Where did that come from?’
Avery laughed, he couldn’t help it, but he slapped a hand down on the young man’s shoulder to reassure him. ‘I assumed Gwyn ap Nudd’s duties after he ascended with the rest of his kin.’
Telmo was baffled; he didn’t understand the answer any more than he had the question. ‘I have no idea what we are talking about,’ he confessed meekly.
‘I know … but, given time, you will work it out.’ Avery smiled, and placing a hand about the young man’s shoulder, he began guiding him towards their destination, across the lovely gardens of the governor’s complex.
‘I’m psychic, aren’t I?’ Telmo asked as if it were a fatal diagnosis that his doctor was too scared to deliver.
‘As are we all,’ Avery announced grandly.
‘But what kind of psychic talent is this … random visions and utterings about events and people I don’t know anything about?’
‘You have a very great gift,’ Avery assured him, ‘it is what I like to term open akashic memory … a direct line into the universal consciousness of all that was and all that will be.’
Telmo stopped dead in his tracks.
‘Am I scaring you?’ Avery queried.
‘Um.’ Telmo couldn’t decide. ‘It’s a fine line between excitement and fear, don’t you find?’
Avery nodded to agree this was true. ‘But the great thing is that you get to choose which side of the line your energies will fall.’
This was turning out to be quite the day of revelation and tribulation for Telmo, but with a few deep breaths he found his smile. ‘I choose to be excited then.’
‘And so you should be,’ Avery agreed, leading through the colourful garden beds towards a grand curved building of unusual design.
This entire place was like somewhere Telmo had only visited in a dream. Kila was weaving her spell upon the young scientist and he already knew that he never wanted to leave.
6
THE BEING WITHIN
Inside the governor’s complex, the Lord of the Otherworld led Telmo down a majestic, arcing walkway that featured huge, ornate marble pillars along both sides. Between the pillars of the outer side of the walkway, there were large feature windows that granted views of the beautiful city beyond and allowed sunlight to flood the passage.
Telmo was shocked to the core as he recognised the view. ‘I’ve been dreaming of this place,’ Telmo uttered, bemused.
‘I’m sure you have,’ Avery gently guided him away from sightseeing, ‘but the governor is waiting.’
‘Of course.’ Telmo attempted to regain his focus, but casting his eyes to the inner wall of the walkway he saw that there were solid walls between the pillars and these were adorned with pictures of Kila’s renowned leaders — a few of whom Telmo thought he recognised from Maladaan.
‘That looks like Dr Taren Lennox … although the hair of this woman is fairer …’ Telmo looked from the portrait of the woman to one of a man beside it. ‘And he is the very image of Professor Lucian Gervaise.’ Telmo scratched his head. This entire experience was feeling too surreal to be real; perhaps he’d fallen asleep en route to Kila and was dreaming all of this?
‘You know these people from Maladaan?’ Avery was pleasantly surprised.
‘I’ve read them, admired them and aspired to be like them,’ Telmo clarified, ‘but I’ve never actually met them in person.’
‘Are they currently on Maladaan?’ Avery was excited by the prospect for a moment.
‘I don’t believe so.’ Telmo was sorry to disappoint the Lord. ‘I read a report that Dr Lennox had been offered a position on the AMIE project, and the Astro-Marine Institute was in the next star system when Maladaan shifted here.’
‘Not to worry.’ Avery shrugged off the disappointment. ‘They’ll show up.’
A very beautiful woman met them in the outer office of the governor’s business chambers, and when she laid eyes upon Telmo, she gasped in delight and surprise.
The Lord of the Otherworld held a finger to his lips, whereupon the governor’s secretary nodded and said nothing further.
Something very odd was going on, and yet Telmo did not feel threatened or intimidated — it felt more like there was a joyful game afoot and he was the prize.
‘I am very pleased to meet you, Telmo Dacre.’ Sybil suppressed some amusement as she showed them into the governor’s office.
‘Your brother has returned with the envoy from Maladaan.’ The secretary dispensed with the door using a palm-touch panel on the wall and Telmo entered the most beautiful office he had ever seen.
All the walls curved, all the huge windows and doorways arched, and a lovely warm breeze blew in through the gardens beyond, filling the space with a pleasant fragrance.
‘Telmo, I’d like you to meet our governor, Rhun.’ The Lord directed his attention away from the architectur
e and towards a young and stately looking man, dressed very casually. The dark-haired, dark-eyed ruler was smiling broadly as he held out his hand to shake Telmo’s.
The governor’s face sent a string of memories racing through Telmo’s brain, of distant times, grand adventures and other worlds. Rhun. He knew that name, he knew that face. ‘Rhun of Gwynedd?’ Telmo choked out the words, completely bewildered by them.
‘Have we met?’ The governor frowned as he stared hard at him.
‘I’ll give you a hint.’ Avery sidled up to his brother, excited that the topic had been raised so quickly. ‘You’ve never seen him this young before?’
‘I recognise his energy from some distant time …’ the governor strained as he considered his best guess, ‘… the Dark Ages?’ He fished for more clues.
Telmo was in complete awe of the conversation — he couldn’t wipe the silly smirk off his face — the people of Kila were so playful.
‘Telmo.’ The Lord Avery looked at him. ‘That’s an interesting name; does it have a meaning?’
Telmo’s grin broadened, as it was rather boastful. ‘It means “shining brow”. In other words that I’m “smart”.’
‘Taliesin,’ uttered the governor, resolute and pleasantly surprised; for Taliesin meant exactly that in the tongue of the ancient Britons.
The Lord of the Otherworld clapped his hands to confirm.
‘What is he doing here?’ the governor queried the Lord.
‘I have no idea,’ Lord Avery pleaded ignorance.
‘But I thought you knew everything?’ Rhun jeered his younger sibling.
‘Soul-minds come together when one of their group is being tested or observed, as it were, by the ultimate entity who is our causal self,’ Avery posed, ‘so I gather Mr Dacre is here to help in some way.’
Rhun was not entirely satisfied with the answer as it told him nothing that he did not already know; he could only hope that he was not the one being tested in this instance despite the fact that it was certainly looking that way.
‘Forgive me, Lords,’ Telmo cut in, ‘but I am here to discuss provisions for the survival of Maladaan, and to brainstorm a resolution to my planet’s current plight.’
The Universe Parallel Page 8
