“You can end this discussion anytime,” she protests. “Feel free to leave when you are ready.” Ra’el looks down and begins going back over the information. She senses that past tensions are beginning to resurface.
“Believe me, I would leave if I felt that the present situation did not matter.” Thanor puts his hands on her shoulders and gently squeezes them. A warm feeling envelops her in response to his continuing overtures.
“Why are you concerned now?” She prods him.
“I am concerned because I love you.”
“Do you? I find that difficult to believe,” she remarks while still facing the screen. “That attitude of yours frightens me.” Casually, Thanor bends down and after brushing the side of his face against her face, he tenderly kisses her. A compelling urge grips her as she slowly brings her left hand up against his face.
After another kiss, Thanor begins reciting a particular verse from a well-known theatrical play: “With these words uttered from my lips, I forever pledge my eternal love and honor. As I stand before the Grand Creator of all that is good, merciful and kind, I faithfully promise, with all my heart, to love, honor and protect you. Had I the powers of a mighty king, I would henceforth take you away from here to a place of eternal safety and fulfillment.”
Pulling back, Ra’el looks at him. “Why are you quoting a scene from Act Two of Olendria?”
Inwardly though, Thanor’s recital calmed her.
“In the final scene of Act Five” he begins, “Markaus Capasian rushes to save Olendria from death at the hands of her brothers. In her brother’s view, Olendria has betrayed her family, people and cultural heritage by becoming romantically involved with a hated Perasian army centurion; the same Udicians who conquered them, killed their people and plundered their land. Markaus put his military career and life in jeopardy to save her. Do you see any similarities?”
Mildly exasperated, Ra’el is taken aback by his implication. “Thanor, that was pure coincidence.”
“I beg to differ,” Thanor objects. “For one brief moment, I felt as if I was Markaus Capasian coming to the aid of Olendria Alkian.”
“And you almost had yourself killed because—” Ra’el stops in mid-sentence.
She lowers her head slightly in contemplation of what could have happened to Thanor.
“I was viciously beaten because I was defending the one female who means more to me than life itself.” He pauses as he sees the fear in her. “I am not that capricious youth you once knew,” he continues softly. “All I ask is that you give our relationship another chance. Let us resolve any lingering issues together.” Thanor’s emotional plea strikes her hard. Her fear of renewing her past relationship with him is becoming less of a challenge.
Still, his call for reconciliation poses a challenge nonetheless. Despite the passing of the years, she has never forgotten the better moments they once shared. While she is still in deep thought, Thanor slowly and eagerly brings his lips to hers. She does not resist. Each shares a warm and passionate kiss. For a brief moment in time, Thanor Calian Thanor and Ra’el Alacian Jendar are sharing a warm and personal moment. The door slides open. As Quafeira begin to enter her quarters, she stops and stands in stark surprise. Ra’el and Thanor part lips-ever so slowly-as they sense that someone else is watching them. “I can return later,” Quafeira tells them with the broadest smile on her face. Feeling embarrassed, Thanor steps farther away and continues to watch while Ra’el returns her attention to the visual screen. “No. It is all well, Professor Sibekk,” Ra’el begins. “Thanor and I were simply discussing some…old business.”
“No doubt,” Quafeira agrees laughing. Despite Aarath’s earlier remark, she is pleased to see Ra’el and Thanor getting back together again.
“I was going through a few historical records when Thanor began distracting me.”
“Of course, blame me for it all,” Thanor responds as he begins walking toward the exit. Quafeira steps into the room and walks up behind Ra’el.
“Professor Sibekk, I have gone over this many times and still, I have yet to find anything out of the typical. Observe.”
After giving Thanor a brief smile, Ra’el pulls up the data concerning the incident. On the screen is a list of the events surrounding the Illasius’ disappearance.
“On Ebu, 12 Vophar 2112,” Ra’el continues, “the crew of the Liserius recovers the Illasius’ data buoy near the fourth planet in that system. According to historical records, the commander, Datrios Jypher, initiates a search for the Illasius within that part of space.”
“Have you found anything else?” Quafeira asks.
“No,” Ra’el continues. “Everything I have told you so far is it. Your father and Rahmik were in dire trouble. A Krasian data buoy is released.”
“Wait! That is incorrect,” Thanor objects. “Krasian class data buoys were not put into production until one year later.”
“No. It says so right here,” Ra’el disagrees.
Thanor comes up behind her and reads the information. “This is wrong. The Illasius did not use a Krasian class data buoy, but the older Atralian class data buoy manufactured by Drombolt Corporation.”
“How do you know this?” Quafeira asks curiously, yet cautiously.
“I use to work at Verlias Corporation. Verlias manufactured personal transports such as the Illasius. Many times, those older ships were fraught with various hardware/software compatibility issues.”
“You were not around when the Illasius was built,” Quafeira tells him.
“I did not have to be. I was in charge of requisitioning parts for newer ships. At times, owners requested updated hardware for older ships.”
“Such as emergency distress buoys?” Ra’el asks.
“Yes. My job was to find the right computerized hardware replacement for a specific ship. Verlias Corporation had used Atralian class buoys for fifteen years before switching to the newer Krasian class buoys.” After bringing up the Cadrann City Business Archives, Ra’el highlights Verlias Corporation and initiates a specific search. She brings up the older Talfis class transports that were manufactured between the years 2097 and 2112. She then calls up the specific data buoy used by the older vessels. Both females are mildly shocked to see a photo of an Atrilian class emergency/distress/data buoy.
“Ra’el, I knew that something was wrong when you mentioned that,” Thanor continues. “The Liserius did not find Illasius’ distress buoy.”
“Actually,” Quafeira interjects, “I believe the Illasius’ original data buoy was found. Later on, someone switched it with another buoy.”
Thanor and Ra’el are stunned. “Professor Sibekk, do you have any idea what you are implying?” Ra’el asks with deliberate slowness.
“I think she does,” Thanor asserts. “I am troubled by her implication.”
Quafeira understands the matter more clearly. “Remember what Yusiras said concerning the menosian crew seeing a ship other than the Illasius?”
“He said that the Quatoth crew,” Ra’el begins, “saw the Liserius.”
“What the menosian crew saw,” Quafeira continues, “was not the Liserius, but a Beshla class vessel used exclusively by Tavus-Alverand.”
Thanor becomes disturbed. “What led you to that conclusion?”
Quafeira walks over to a nearby seat and sits down. “Yusiras told us that the ship that appeared after Illasius’ disappearance had odd lettering.”
“Yes,” Ra’el agrees. “He mentioned that it had lettering, which I assumed was the Liserius.”
A quick frown by Quafeira sends Ra’el a dubious message. “No. He indicated that the ship only had odd lettering.”
“Is that why you took him outside?” Ra’el asks pointedly.
“Yes, I asked him to give me a more detailed description of that ship according to their historical records. I discovered that the description of that ship matches the Beshla class exploration vessel, not the Liserius.”
“Why did you keep this information from us?
” Ra’el asks.
“I needed additional facts. Thanor’s revelation about the buoy proved my theory. The Liserius was never involved in a rescue operation. Yusiras also described a spherical robotic object with four arms.”
“Of course,” Thanor relates. “That was just a robotic retrieval drone.”
“Thanor, it was a Traligeon Model III retrieval drone.”
Thanor is surprised. “Professor Sibekk, Traligeon retrieval drones are manufactured by Halion Corporation for orbital satellite maintenance.”
“Yes, I know.” Quafeira concludes. Suddenly, a thought enters Ra’el’s mind. She decides to contact her oldest brother at Verlias Corporation.
6 RECONCILIATION
The Williams Residence
Friday, 2 August 1974 (7:45 PM)
“No way, José! She’s no big deal to me. I’ll leave her in a heartbeat,” Larry Cofield boasts as he is driving his car up to the front of the Williams’ home. Dressed in a bright red, wide collar shirt and black dress pants, Larry is seriously proud of his cherry red, 1973 two-door, Camaro LT Sports Coupe. The six-foot-two young man, originally from the Bronx in New York, has a flair for the finer things in life. With a neatly trimmed, large Afro, long sideburns and trim figure, Larry is certain to catch the attention of the neighborhood ladies.
He is fond of emulating Jim Kelly, his favorite television actor and martial arts expert. For personal reasons, when he is with a young and eager female, the suave young man would start the evening off with none other than Marvin Gaye’s Let’s Get It On! As the Spinners’ title song, I’ll Be Around, plays from his 8-track tape player, Larry adjust his Polaroid sunshades as he looks into the rear-view mirror. He always makes it his intention to get his point across clearly.
He puts his car in park. After a quick laugh, Gareth Williams takes another swallow of NEHI grape soda. “Hey! I wouldn’t either. These women out here will take you to the cleaners quick and laugh in your face about it.”
“Oh yeah!” Larry agrees. “I’ve had my share of those clean-up women. They’ll let you know in a minute: no money, no honey. Now, ain’t that the truth?”
“You know it, my man,” Gareth replies with a mild laugh. “Are you still heading down the coast?”
Before answering Gareth, Larry exchanges a brief gaze with a black and beautiful young woman walking toward her house located directly across the street from the Williams’ residence. Charlene Thompson, 17, returns Larry a sensuous smile before turning away Larry is smiling profusely as he notices the sway in her hips.
“Sho’ nuff. This town’s way too slow for me. I’m going down to LA my brother, where the real action is.”
“I can dig it!” Gareth responds.
“By the way, what’s the deal with baby brother? What is he getting into these days?”
Gareth’s face draws a momentary blank as he notices the blue Dodge Challenger parked in the driveway. He could tell that something is bothering his youngest brother. “A few things. Right now, he’s just going through a few changes.”
Larry laughs. “Yeah! I dig where you’re coming from. Is he still going to become the University of California Anonwood’s first black professor of astrophysics?”
“Yeah, that’s what he’s aiming for.”
“Well, tell him that he needs to get his head out of the stars. He can’t get a woman that way.” After a quick high-five with Larry, Gareth steps out of the car and closes the door.
In his usual bravado, Larry guns the engine before shifting into drive. He accelerates away at a high speed. Gareth waves the resultant dust away with his hand as he walks toward the house. As he heads upstairs toward his own room, he stops and turns toward David’s room. As usual, Gareth concludes, David keeps the door closed. For some time, he has noticed that David has been silently angry, as evidenced by a deep frown on his face.
“Let’s see what bothering this dude,” Gareth says to himself. He walks up to the door and knocks. “It’s open,” David answers.
“Yo! What’s happening bro?” Gareth asks as he glances around the room. With noticeable disdain, Gareth observes papers, with odd-looking graphical symbols, lying atop the dresser drawers and bed. He picks up one sheet of paper and scans the information on it. He sees strange writing on the left side with English phrases on the right side, which makes little sense to him. “What the heck is a…trephasian…cohibitor?”
“Gareth, what is it that you want? I’m kind of busy right now,” David replies while he continues watching the paper in front of him.
Seeing that David’s mood is still solemn, Gareth puts down the sheet of paper and walks over to where David is sitting. The paper in David’s hand has no more than two lines written at the top. “Yeah, you’re busy all right,” Gareth quips. David balls up the paper and throws the paper on the floor. Gareth feels that the time is now right for a serious one on one.
“Look! Whatever’s eating you has gotta stop! You’re making everyone’s life miserable. I mean, tell me a thing or two.”
Gareth sits across from David. David turns toward Gareth. “There’s nothing eating me! I just wanna wring Tyrone’s neck! That’s all.”
Gareth leans back in mild shock. “Well! Excuse me! Is there a reason why you wanna slam dunk your best buddy? I thought y’all were tight.”
David closes his eyes briefly before letting out a sigh. “I’m just talking. Some fool woman was playing her game on him, trying to get information out of him.”
Gareth nods understandingly. “Fool woman huh? You mean Verónica Poderes, that hot Latina chick that Tyrone hangs out with? Nearly half the guys in the neighborhood are after her. That babe can give Lola Falana some serious competition.”
“Yeah! Whatever!” David tells him with seeming unconcern.
“Loosen up! Will ya? So what did you do?”
“I cornered her. Tyrone jumped up and we fought like pitbulls.”
“Oh, I get it,” Gareth remarks. “Verónica was doing a serious number on your homeboy. Then you jumped on her case. Right on?”
“Something like that.”
“So now, Tyrone hates your guts for putting the wedge between him and his main squeeze. Is that the real deal?”
“Of course,” David admits. “But if I didn’t act, it would have turned into something far more serious.”
“Okay, so you saved the day, but lost your best buddy.”
A frown reappears across David’s face. “Is there something else that you can tell me that I don’t know already?”
“Maybe, but here’s my thang. Let’s say, ya’ know, some fine babe is putting the moves on you. Ya’ know, lip suck, heavy breathing and all that good stuff. Now, what would you do if Tyrone, regardless of the reason, comes along and trashes your relationship with her?”
“That’s obvious! I’d thrash that sucka!”
“Really? Tell me about it! Now you see my point.” Gareth puts both hands on his knees and waits for an answer.
“This is altogether different and far more serious than some romantic relationship.” David is adamant in his conviction. Gareth, however, sees his youngest brother’s conviction from a completely different perspective.
“No-o kidding? Then what is it about? This?” Gareth points to all the papers around them-the same papers.
“Look! It’s a long, complicated story,” David protests. “Neither you nor anyone else would understand.”
Gareth rises out of his seat. “I feel ya’ pain, bro. But dig, I don’t know all the details of what went down, but from what I’ve seen, Tyrone and you have been the best of friends since the eighth grade.”
“Even among the best of friends,” David protests, “you have to stand up at some time or another and do the right thing.”
“Hey, I’m cool with that. You did the right thing, but you went about it the wrong way. Look, when Sylvia starts giving you all the love and attention you want, think about what we’ve discussed.”
David becomes perturbed. “How t
he heck would you know that?”
Gareth smiles. “David, I’ve been around the block twice. Women crave attention. Now consider Tyrone’s viewpoint. It’s a sure bet he already knew what Verónica was doing.” Gareth turns and walks out of the room. Gareth’s phrase, point of view, sticks in David’s mind.
Despite Tyrone’s rebukes, he felt justified in exposing Verónica. Yet, he feels guilty about the way he handled the situation. He realizes that he needs Nathan and Tyrone’s help in resolving the alien situation-in all aspects. Thus, he realizes that he has to rethink his strategy, much as he does when playing chess during an after-school chess tournament.
He opens the desk drawer, picks up the alien communicator device and turns it on. The three-dimensional holographic cube appears in all its radiant glory. Suddenly, he remembers something. Turning off the communicator, he places it back into the drawer and closes it. He walks out of the room.
Anonwood City Park (9:45 PM)
The Messenger Page 6
