Kelan: Talonian Warriors

by Celeste Raye

  Kelan's business associates and investors didn't know his true identity. The fact of the matter was, no one knew. He kept the truth a secret to protect his species. Humans now had the capability to quickly travel through space, and they were aware of many inhabited worlds. Talonia was farther away than most of those planets and remained hidden from Earth's technology. The Talonians wanted to keep their existence undiscovered. They feared human interference would bring trouble to their home. It was bad enough that it was being threatened by another alien species who didn't have the capacity or weaponry of Earth.

  At times, Kelan's body ached to change forms. He held back his instincts for weeks at a time. Anger made it more difficult to stay in the form of a man, so he had learned breathing exercises, kick boxing, and other techniques to dispel his frustration. When his need to change reached a breaking point, there was an isolated meadow deep in the woods where he could become his other self. Among the flowers, surrounded by trees, he could relax his vigil and be freed for a short span of time. He returned to the city refreshed and ready to be the powerful businessman everyone expected him to be.

  His worry for Michelle was causing his deep-seated frustration to rise. He would need to tamp it down before today's meeting. He certainly couldn't shock the investors by accidentally changing form before their eyes. It would ruin all that he had worked for and have hunters seeking to find his kind. Kelan opened the windows, looked at the clouds, and began his breathing ritual. His home was out there awaiting him, though he couldn't see it from here. It wouldn't be long until he could return if all went as he predicted with the investors.

  The investors, male and female, arrived at the designated time and were escorted to a large conference room by security. No one, other than fully screened employees of Rankin World Defense, was ever allowed to roam the building unescorted. It held too many highly valuable blueprints and technological discoveries that other companies would pay billions to get their greedy hands on. The weapon prototypes were enough to tempt the most honorable of persons.

  Michelle

  The wealth represented by the people who sat at the conference table was intimidating to Michelle. She was trained to hide it behind her welcoming smile. Not even Kelan was aware of how badly she was shaking inside as she presented each investor with a meal especially ordered to their personal tastes. Everything from steak to sushi was distributed among the richest people on the planet. Many had arrived just moments ago on private jets, having been summoned by Kelan only that morning. He alone held that kind of power.

  Michelle set his rare steak in front of him and poured a glass of expensive wine. Normally, there would have been a serving staff who catered to the wants and desires of the investors, but what was to be discussed here today couldn't be allowed to be overheard by extra ears. Kelan only trusted Michelle. Once everyone had been served and their drinks refreshed, she took her own seat at Kelan's right hand. Though every word said in this room would be recorded by highly sensitive equipment, Michelle would still jot down notes. These would involve her perception of the investors' attitudes. Kelan would want to hear her perspective to see if it matched his own.

  Kelan let the meal continue without bringing up the business at hand. He preferred his audience sated and compliant when he asked for money. He could have funded most of his discoveries all by himself, but he knew that wasn't wise. Cooperation among the rich and powerful kept the world at peace. If everyone had a piece of the pie, then no one could control it alone. Michelle held his same beliefs and was proud to be at his side.

  Kelan pushed his plate aside, cleared his throat, and stood. All eyes turned to the head of the table. It was time to answer all the questions that had been buzzing among the investors while they ate. Michelle pushed a pair of buttons underneath the conference table. The cameras would zoom in and capture the faces of each person, and the recording equipment would filter out any sound other than the voices of the investors.

  Kelan stated, "I appreciate all of you dropping your other important duties and rushing to Rankin World Defense on such short notice. I plan to make it worth the sacrifice. I believe you will be as pleased as I am to hear the news. The weapon we have been searching for is within our grasp. It will become the greatest in our arsenal, perhaps the only one needed. It contains more power than any bomb, gun, or nuclear weapon ever built. Its power can be isolated to a single target, saving the lives of innocent individuals standing within inches of the threat, or spread wide to destroy an army. The possibilities are endless. It is extremely lightweight and small enough for each soldier to carry. Most important, at least in my eyes, is the fact that it will not damage the atmosphere of the planet. We can continue to breathe clean air and drink unpolluted water. Your children and grandchildren will have a safe environment, unaffected by deformities and diseases caused by weapons of mass destructions. However, these weapons are expensive to build and test, so I need your help."

  The French investor inquired, "What type of weapon is it? What's its source of power?"

  Kelan replied, "It's a refined form of laser that takes its energy from the very air we breathe. Within its mechanisms, the air is compacted so densely that it is emitted as a killing ray. If you will give your attention to the monitor, we have a visual recording of a test done in the lab."

  Michelle touched her keyboard, and the twelve-foot monitor came to life. On screen, a lab technician held a dull gray piece of metal. It was shaped like a water pipe but had two triggers. The technician tossed it into the air and caught it easily with one hand to demonstrate its light weight. He walked to a glass enclosure and slid the end of the weapon through a hole that was just its size. Within the enclosure, there were mannequins representing men, women, and children. In their center, was a gunman. The technician pulled the smallest trigger, a thin white light streaked across the room, and the gunman fell. The camera zoomed in to show there wasn't a mark on any other mannequin. It then turned on the equipment that monitored chemicals, radiation, and other destructive components. The air was clear. The camera came back to the technician. He pulled the larger trigger, the end of the pipe spread into hundreds of tiny fingerlike projections. The white light shot out of each one, destroying all the mannequins. The equipment proclaimed that the air was still clean. Michelle stopped the recording.

  Kelan declared, "This was a prototype, and the results were recorded last night. The room has continued to be monitored for pollutants. None have been detected. The weapon needs to be tested on larger targets: planes and tanks for example. We need to see its actions in open spaces and perfect its rather ugly appearance. For these things, we need money and the power to get the governments behind the project. In other words, I need all of you. Everyone in this room has reason to want this weapon to succeed. With the universe opening to our eyes, it's essential to protect not just our own countries, but the entire planet. We don't want the wars to touch a hair on our families’ heads. We don't even want them to realize those wars are a possibility. This weapon is our best defense against Earth being touched by anyone and keeping the peace between countries. It can ensure that there is still an inhabitable planet for future generations. Do I have your backing?"

  The woman from England replied, "You have earned my trust over the last two years. I've never been disappointed in anything you've built or discovered. My riches have been quadrupled by investing in your enterprises. The weapon seems viable and revolutionary. You have my backing."

  The French gentleman stated, "I'm impressed by the lab tests and would like to see more. If you will allow me to attend some of the future testing, I will back you as well."

  Kelan's biggest rival, the owner of another defense company, demanded, "Before I hand over any money, I want to shoot that thing myself. Recordings can be faked. I'm a skeptical man, and my company has never seen such technology despite my contacts in the government."

  Kelan smiled and answered, "I expected there to be skepticism and demands for hands-on proof. Of course,
I will accommodate your wishes. I have nothing to hide." Not in business anyway, he said to himself.

  All in attendance agreed to invest vast amounts of money to build and test the weapon. Michelle spent the next several hours writing separate agreements to specify each investor's demands. Dessert and wine were served while she sat with each one and carefully constructed the deals and had them signed. Kelan wouldn't want them to leave without striking an agreement. He was careful to have them sign before they were influenced by outsiders. Michelle also followed his requirement to have them sign a nondisclosure agreement. What was seen and heard in this room was to remain there. It was simply good business.

  By the time everyone had left, it was late in the evening. Michelle cleared the conference room, gathered her personal belongings, and tried to shake off her worry. It was far later than she usually worked, and she feared what Jackson would have in store for her as punishment. Maybe she would get lucky, and he would be out drinking with his buddies or passed out in the bed. If not, his anger at her for not having a meal ready would probably earn her some more bruises. Since she was already so late, she would stop and pick up his favorite pizza and beer. It might placate him enough to save her from a beating. The triumph and pride the meeting had provided slipped into oblivion. Reality came crashing down as she drove toward home.

  Chapter 3

  Kelan

  Kelan kept his eyes trained on Michelle. As she cleared away the dirty dishes and shut down the computers, the energy she had shown during the meeting slowly drained out of her body. He could actually see her spirits sink and her movements slow. He sensed a desperation coming from inside her. He was afraid that asking her to sit down and explain what was causing the change in her personality would be crossing over into territory that was too personal. He had already inquired about her injuries, and she had lied. She would certainly do it again if he pushed her too far. For the moment, he would ignore the warning bells going off in his brain and let her keep her secrets.

  The moment Michelle's car left the parking garage, Kelan received a signal on what appeared to be his wristwatch. It was much more than that. Yes, it told the time. However, it did far more. It was the way he communicated with Talonia. Apparently, his species was eager for news. Usually, they waited for him to open communication since they had no idea who might be present in his office or home at any given time. For them to open the line, it must be extremely important. Not one to take chances, Kelan sent a signal telling whoever was calling to give him time to reach his private quarters: the penthouse over Rankin World Defense headquarters.

  Kelan sealed his office and set the alarms. He hurried to the private elevator that was concealed behind a bookshelf in his office. It deposited him directly into his main living area. Once inside, he quickly ripped off the offensive suit and tie. With each layer he discarded, more of his muscular body appeared. Broad shoulders, ripped abs, and powerful thighs were released from their prison. The longer he had to wear the formal clothing, the more he felt strangled by it. Down to just his boxer briefs, he breathed a sigh of relief, poured himself a whiskey, and returned the call. No signal could breach the walls of his home. He had made that a priority when the penthouse was added to the building. Secrets were meant to be kept, and spies were everywhere in the weapons business.

  The communication came from the military commander of Talonia. He was agitated by being left to wait for Kelan's return call. He shouted, "When I open communication, I don't expect to be ignored! Have you become soft living on that planet or do you now think you're too powerful to obey orders?"

  Kelan reminded him, "I can't answer immediately. There are too many risks involved. I know you wouldn't want the humans to discover who I am or that our planet exists. I wasn't ignoring you. I was just putting our safety first. My loyalty, of course, is with Talonia."

  Kelan's calm and reasonable attitude defused the situation. It seemed their species was quick to anger: a problem that needed a solution. The commander gruffly replied, "Fine, I have no desire to put us on the humans’ radar. We have trouble brewing, and we don't need to add Earth to the mix. The aliens sent a ship to hover in the clouds and watch us. They didn't even try to hide. They were taunting us in hopes we would attack and start the war. It became clear that they are aware of our tightly wound anger issues and thought we could be baited. A few fights broke out among us trying to keep the rebellious ones in check. Tell me you have good news. Someday, we won't be able to control the younger, more volatile of our species."

  Kelan answered, "I have progress to report, although I might be better off seeking a solution to our anger. It is that anger that brought us to the attention of the alien nation. If not for uncontrollable rage, we would have continued to appear as men to their eyes and a treaty could have been negotiated. Instead, we changed into our truest form, and they want us abolished."

  "I don't require your speeches! I'm fully aware of what transpired. I was there at the time. We can't backtrack. We must move forward. What's your news?” the commander asked.

  "I've acquired the information on Earth's solution to the nuclear fallout. It can be replicated with the addition of some of their technology, which I will be sending within a week or two," Kelan began. "The weapon we were seeking is under construction in my lab. I met with investors today and received the money necessary for further testing and mass production. The material the weapon is made from is a component sourced off a crash site. The ship was alien, but we've managed to duplicate the material using metals abundant on Talonia. My work here will be finished sooner than I expected: a year at most."

  The commander demanded, "If you have the information, why must you stay? You are needed here. If your loyalty lies with us as you claim, then you should leave Earth and its distractions."

  "My loyalty is with my species, but I still have a responsibility to the humans. Without their hospitality and money, we would not have the information. I owe it to them to see this project to its conclusion. Besides, if I disappear now, they will think I have absconded with their contributions. I refuse to have the reputation of a thief on any planet. The company I have built will continue under my name and be run by a trusted committee. It is an important contributor to this world, and I take pride in my accomplishments. I sacrificed so much to come here at my leader's request. As the only one of our species on Earth, unable to confide in anyone what I really am, I have suffered loneliness and been deprived of changing on a daily basis. The freedom to fly through the skies was yanked from my grasp. Talonia owes me this time to complete my work."

  "The longer you stay there, the bigger chance there is of humans discovering what you are. As you said, your true nature has been held back for too long. You're a time bomb just waiting for someone to push the countdown button. We'll give you some time, but you need to speed things up. A year is too long. Three months is the limit; no arguments accepted," the commander declared. He shut down the communication before Kelan could reply.

  Well, that didn't go as planned. Kelan paced the floor in frustration. He had so much riding on his shoulders. They were strong ones, but even he had a limit. Two planets depended on his work, and then there was Michelle. He couldn't get her off his mind or shake the bad feeling coming from his gut. She was in trouble, he knew it in his bones. What could he do? Should it be his worry or was it best to leave her to solve her own problems? In the scheme of things, how important was it? It kept him from sleeping, so it was obviously extremely important to him. He didn't understand why. It had to be more than his opposition to domestic violence.

  Michelle

  Michelle heard the blasting television when she exited the car. All the lights in her house were on as well. This didn't bode well for her. It meant that Jackson was awake and most likely ready to rumble. She hesitated in the driveway. Maybe she should get back in the car and make a run for it. Her neighbor came hurrying across the lawn. He demanded, "Shut that noise down, or I'm calling the police! I've had enough of it. Your bo
yfriend's had it that loud for hours. I've pounded on the door several times. He won't answer. The only reason I haven't called it in yet is because you're a good neighbor. I suggest you get rid of that jerk: the sooner, the better."

  Michelle was embarrassed. She didn't like causing a scene or involving her neighbors in her problems. Drawing attention to herself was the last thing she needed. "I'm so sorry for the noise. I'll go in and fix it immediately. Thanks so much for not calling the police. He's upset because he lost his job. It won't happen again." Having left herself without a choice, she proceeded to the door. Her arms were full of two pizza boxes and a six pack of beer. She was sure that he was drunk already, but if he drank more, he might pass out and leave her alone.

  Jackson must have heard the key in the door despite the loud television. Or maybe he was watching for her. Either way, he jerked her by the arm as soon as she opened the door. Two of the beer bottles fell and busted on the tile floor. The smell permeated the air around them, and glass shards stung her skin. Jackson didn't seem to notice. He flung her onto the couch and slapped her bruised face while screaming, "Where the hell have you been? You should have been home hours ago. I haven't eaten all day! Who were you screwing? Answer me!"