Birth Of A Goddess

by Mark T. Bacome

  “But I'm not--I'm just trying to help--”

  “I know. And so am I.” Junk stood to face the group of attackers. They were a mixture of people from several groups that had arrived recently from other detention centers. They had not been here long enough to see that Presley1522 was not the same as the other 'little-humans' that had been their keepers. “I am Junk. Appointed leader of the Peacekeepers here. We have been charged with the responsibility to protect and keep order. Every one of my Peacekeepers are volunteers from each of the groups that arrive everyday, and are dedicated to our task. This man is trying to help us return you to your homes--” Junk turned to his small group of Peace-keepers. “Which of you are of these people?” Two men stepped forward. “Please escort this group back to their areas,” Junk ordered. The disgruntled crowd argued briefly, but complied with the directions of the two Peacekeepers, and walked away from the craft Presley1522 had been trying to repair.

  “I'm only trying to help,” Presley1522 repeated, still shaken from the ordeal.

  “There is much anger and hatred for those that have caused so much suffering. I will request volunteers to watch over you,” Junk offered. He turned, and with a nod, two more of the Peacekeepers group stepped forward. “These men will keep you safe.”

  “Thank you--” Presley1522 bowed. Junk wasn't sure how to respond to such an action and nodded with an awkward half-bow before turning and leaving with the rest of the Peacekeepers.

  Presley1522 could not help stare at his two protectors. He had been in awe of the diversity of the NorWes clansmen--shapes, sizes and skin tones, in particular. But the diversity of the Earth humans who had been collected from locations around the planet were no match. These two large Earth humans had very dark skin that must have been the result of some horrific accident. Presley1522 pulled a small external medical scanner to check for dermal damage. The two men stepped back and scowled, unsure of his actions.

  “I won't hurt you,” Presley1522 assured. “I'm checking for damage.”

  The two men continued to scowl and checked their arms and hands as though they might find something wrong.

  “That's odd--my scanner must be malfunctioning. I can't find anything wrong,” Presley1522 mused. He had seen similar broad facial structures and even the tight, curly hair among various Corporate DNA series types, but the skin tones were all within a few shades of gray to light pink. Nothing so dark, or near black. Presley1522 shook his head, with a grunt of confusion, checking his external scanner diagnostics again. “Okay. Well, back to the task at hand. I need to check the inventories of your supplies for parts. Do you know where they are?”

  “The one called 'Grafter' will know,” one of the protectors answered and pointed toward the far bulkhead, where the hangar control tower stuck out with a commanding view of the whole hangar deck below.

  “Lead on--”

  *** The position of Lead Peacekeeper had been assigned to Junk by Grafter, which, Junk took seriously and with great honor. In particular because Grafter had bestowed upon him a position of such responsibility and trust, Junk was determined not to be a disappointment. Grafter utilized his vast knowledge of the Drelund Milcom, Trupe management structure to give Junk a format of leadership, and Peacekeeper ethics. This also helped give a sense of balance for Peacekeeping, versus force, versus control without a sense of imprisonment.

  Until now they had only dealt with minor arguments and scuffles. This incident with the angry crowd had been the most violent and serious, and Junk felt his own confidence, as well as confidence in the Peacekeeping system, swell. The men under his charge seemed to show more respect, and not just because Junk was close with Grafter. Grafter met with every arriving group, and was seen by all as 'The Great Savior.' He had a natural charisma, that worked well uniting so many differing groups of people. Being a close associate to Grafter was certainly a perk.

  “Was there a problem?” Grafter asked when Junk entered the control room.

  “Took care of it,” Junk answered, with his added confidence.

  “Looked serious from here. Wasn't that little gathering where Presley1522 was working?”

  Junk nodded. “They don't like him. They don't trust him.”

  Grafter nodded in agreement with a heavy sigh. “That could cause a problem. Hatred is a powerful emotion. These people have just cause--albeit, misplaced on him-simply for his appearance.”

  “I have two men watching over him now. Protecting him.”

  “Unfortunately, that could cause issues too. These people have such hatred for their 'keepers'...to show favoritism--particularly for him--” Grafter trailed off in concerned thought.

  “He's trying to help--”

  “Yes, I understand, but--” Grafter paused and looked out over the growing number of arrivals on the main floor of the large hangar. “He may need to leave for his own safety--as well as ours.”

  *** Whether it was fate or mere coincidence that allowed Anthony to witness the unauthorized termination of Rubura on the compromised broadcasts, would do little to console the deep-seated pain of his loss. Presley1285 knew there were no words, and only attempted to keep Anthony preoccupied with status updates.

  “Our negotiations for large transports from Duissis are being marred by additional costs and recompense requests. All well beyond reasonable budget forecasts,” Presley1285 reported. Anthony sat still, slumped in his lounging cube, reeling from his torn emotions. “Thus, negotiations with Vaudi have not progressed.”

  “Any word from Corporate?” Anthony asked. “Galactic Board is all but gone, only Raldron remains, still in hiding at Arcquius Resort. Region and local Corporate Board members are either missing, presumed terminated, or scattered and in hiding,” Presley1285 said, attempting to not sound as grim as the report. “Corporate is barely functioning at this point. The legal teams are searching for protocols and procedures for negotiating with any remaining lower-level management.”

  “Any news from Earth moon and Presley1522?”

  “None of the remaining transports are functional,” Presley1285 answered. “Presley1522 has been running diagnostics and compiling a list of required equipment and parts.”

  “I feel so helpless, my friend,” Anthony said through a heavy sigh.

  “You will get through these desperate times. We--will get through this. Do not lose sight of hope now. This will be your finest hour,” Presley1285 assured.

  Anthony gave Presley1285 a tired, pain-filled glance. “Thank you--”

  *** Kutch stepped out from the cutout that that Li had shared with Novia. With Li gone, Kutch slept in her bedding area, if only sleep were so easy. The reports from the guardians searching the outside trails were no better than the reports from the searches from the passages inside the caverns. Still no signs of Li. Even with Sid's help, sleep was not restful.

  Sitting out on an outcropping from Novia's dwelling, Kutch could see Alex talking with Presley1477 down the slope, nodding and walking toward Kutch.

  “Any news?” Kutch asked, as Alex approached. “About?” Alex replied.

  Kutch shook his head and shrugged. “Saw you talking

  with Presley1477. Thought he had news of something.” “In a way--yes,” Alex admitted sitting next to Kutch. “Everything all right?”

  “Sure, I--”

  Kutch felt Alex was hiding something. “What's up?” “Presley1477 found a two-seater sled that's not being

  used.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “You're not going anywhere. You're needed here to

  look for Li. I'm going to go see Proto,” Alex explained. “You are NOT going to go see Proto without me!”

  Kutch argued.

  “You can't be serious. You're too preoccupied with the

  search for Li--as you should be--”

  “That's not true,” Novia stepped out, interrupting. “What do you mean?” Kutch asked.

  “Kutch, you know, as well as I, that Li is not here--not

  in th
e caves, the surrounding mountains, the Other

  Realm--anywhere we are aware,” Novia explained. “The

  searches are simply the only thing we can do to feel--” “Like we're still trying,” Kutch finished. “I know.” “What are you two talking about?” Alex felt lost in the

  conversation.

  “There is nothing more we can do for her now. If she's

  able to return, she will,” Novia explained.

  “And you're okay with this?” Alex asked, dripping with

  sarcasm.

  “Yes--”

  Alex raised her brow.

  “I have to be. We have too many questions for Proto. I

  can't leave that all up to you--besides, the 'Keepers of the

  Time' believe we're 'Sky Children,' I can't let you have ALL

  the glory on our return,” Kutch said with a wink. Novia gave them both a gentle hug, still nearly setting

  off their PPDs.

  “So, when will the sled be ready to go?” Kutch asked. “Now. Waiting on me--”

  “Us--” Kutch corrected, as he started down the path.

  “I'll pilot this time.”

  “No. No you won't.” Alex protested, following close

  behind.

  “Sure I will.”

  “No.” Alex shook her head.

  “Yes, I can do it. You know that--”

  “No--”

  Novia giggled to herself, allowing a brief moment of

  release from the ache of missing Li, listening to Alex and

  Kutch's argument continue off into the distance.

  *** Kutch and Alex leaving to see Proto withou him upset Toolkit for only a moment. He knew he would get there someday, but right now he had something of far more importance to figure out and try to fix--Chichi. The force field generator project to protect the clans from Cain was moving along with only minor issues, but Chichi was showing more signs of his illness. Novia called it the Loki Mia, and she said there was no cure within the Knowledge Rings of the clans.

  Toolkit, Chichi and Anali all sat together on a small rise, overlooking the Elvonians working on a portion of the force field generators. There was a bit of a chill in the air, but the morning sun felt warm on their faces and shoulders. The memory of snow in the lower elevations had been pushed aside with the new growth of bushes, trees and grasses.

  “TK--how will you know if you find something that might be the Loki Mia, if you don’t know what to look for?” Chichi asked.

  Toolkit ran his external scanner over Chichi, head to toe, trying to think of an answer. Chichi's symptoms had grown worse. More bruising, more tired more often, and not able to eat as much. “I'm not sure. The Loki Mia does seem to be rather mysterious. I guess I should start by comparing you to someone who is not showing the signs.”

  “Tooki-Tooki, me, me, me!” Anali suggested with excitement. “I'm not sick!”

  Toolkit thought a moment. The little girl was of similar DNA sequence, a near match, and indeed was not showing any signs of the Loki Mia. “That is a very good idea, Anali.” Toolkit ran his small external scanner over her head, but she took it from his hand and waved it with far more exuberance, all over herself, head to toe--several times.

  “Do you need more, Tooki?” she stopped and asked, then continued to run the scanner over herself without waiting for an answer. Toolkit was patient, and waited. When she moved on to scan the grass and nearby rocks, he asked for the small scanner back.

  “Now what?” Chichi asked.

  “Now--I analyze and compare the data, and try to find what is different. This may take some time.”

  “Then can we go play?” Chichi asked.

  “Do you feel up to it?” Toolkit asked.

  Chichi shrugged and took Anali by the hand. “I feel fine--enough.”

  “Don't wander off too far. Stay close,” Toolkit warned. “I'll be right here when you return, analyzing this new data.”

  *** Grafter sent a messenger to divert Presley1522 and his protectors to a secluded passage not far from a storage area. This was a difficult decision for Grafter to make, but in an effort to keep peaceful relations among the growing number of people at the crowded facility, the decision had to be made.

  Presley1522 rounded the corner behind his protectors and found Grafter and Junk. From the looks on their faces, he could tell there was a problem.

  “I trust you are all right,” Grafter asked with concern. “Junk filled me in on what happened.” “Yes. A little shaken, but unharmed. Really no need for concern,” Presley1522 replied.

  “On the contrary--there is great concern,” Grafter insisted.

  Presley1522 shook his head. “I don't understand.”

  “The hatred for the keepers is too great. You are in danger here,” Junk tried to explain.

  “I have your protectors now. I should be fine,” Presley1522 assured.

  Grafter stepped forward and knelt down on one knee, eye-to-eye with Presley1522. “I understand much more than you may realize. I understand your internal protection--the PPD. I have memories from an encounter with Cain--I have visions that allow me insight into your world. But I also know and understand the hatred of these people who have been taken against their will, and lost friends and family in the process. My ability to keep that hatred in check and maintain stability among a growing number of angry, tired and sick people is solely based on trust--trust that is shaken when they see me take a side for one they see as an enemy.”

  “I'm trying to help you get these people back home, back to Earth--”

  Grafter held a hand up. “I know, believe me I know. I believe you, but they don't--”

  “Because I look like the keepers--”

  “Because you are simply so short!” Junk blurted.

  “Just because I'm short?” Presley1522 shook his head.

  “You look like them. Like those who caused so much pain and suffering,” Grafter explained.

  “So what do we do now?” Presley1522 asked.

  “I need you to leave,” Grafter said.

  “Leave? How does that help you?”

  “It helps me maintain the stability that such a large number of angry people need to keep from tearing each other apart,” Grafter stated.

  “Just because I look like Corporate--”

  Grafter nodded.

  Presley1522 shook his head in disbelief and let out a heavy sigh.

  “We'll just have to figure out another way to get those freighters fixed or find other transportation,” Junk explained.

  “Wait a moment--” Presley1522 said and paused to let the idea that just entered his mind develop. “What if I were to send two other Elvonians to help with the technical repairs--”

  “I'm afraid not. It's not just you or that you're an Elvonian--” Grafter explained.

  “No. No, no. Two Elvonians who would pass as Earth human, because they have lived on Earth for the last six Earth years and have grown--much taller and more like-you!”

  “They could fix the transport ships?” Grafter asked, taking in this new development.

  “They are medical technicians, but, like myself, have cross-trained for years on many technical repair protocols--” Presley1522 paused seeing a blank look on Junk’s face. “Yes.”

  “You would still need to leave,” Grafter explained.

  Presley1522 nodded, giving up on the argument. As much as he wanted to be helpful, leaving appeared to be the best help he could offer at this time. “I think I understand.”

  *** Toolkit pored over the data comparisons. Anali had nearly identical DNA, but there were several differences between her and Chichi, besides gender. Her biofluids were different--made up of water, salts, and proteins, along with three types of cells--one in particular that carried oxygen and nutrients. There were other cells, but they were not as predominant. Toolkit set this as his baseline and considered normal.

  On the other hand, in Chichi's biofluids the predominant cells appeared to be defensive in natur
e. So much so, that they seemed to be attacking his body from the inside. This would also explain why he was so tired-not receiving enough nutrients or oxygen.

  Toolkit pulled up several Corporate medical databases, but they covered equipment settings and med-drone diagnostics. There wasn't a whole lot of information about the biofluids and their proper function.

  Unacceptable , Toolkit thought. What little he was able to find, simply corroborated that Anali had normal readings and Chichi did not.

  Toolkit realized that if he could figure out why there was this difference--a root cause--he could develop a solution. If this was indeed the Loki Mia, it wasn't so mysterious anymore--simply a problem in need of a solution. He felt he was onto something now.

  “I can fix this!”

  *** The screaming enveloped the pitch-black darkness of her mind, and seem to last an eternity. Never-ending, as though there was no beginning--simply, always. For a brief fragmented, instant, Li felt able to reason, to question--a simple; why? Once the initial thought bubbled to the surface of her mind, she was able bring forth a second question--who?

  That second question broke the cycle like shattered glass, as did the answer. The eternal screaming was coming from within. The deep-seated memory of a stabbing pain in her head and chest reaffirmed the first question, why. The image of the dark crystalline being Kyrios, stabbing her with spires, were still etched deep within her memory. But there was something different. The pain was gone--she felt she had a choice--she could decide to continue or stop. A simplistic decision, but one she felt might be difficult to render. To stop was to change--change was difficult. To stay the same was easy. She liked easy. Why would anyone not like easy? The decision seemed to take an eternity.

  She stopped.

  The silence that followed felt light, no longer heavy with darkness. Even her surroundings appeared to be lightening, turning into a surreal environment of great open expanse, filled with flowing color, ever brilliant as each moment passed.

  “Why do I never pick the easy?”

  Our choices define us... a voice answered, sounding from all directions, as well as within.

  “Who are you?” Li was startled.