Pocketing the evidence, she’d risen to her feet. Unnerved at the sound of the front door opening, she’d scampered out of the room and up the stairs to her bedroom. Frantically, she’d searched for the wedding purse she’d hidden away years ago. Yes, her silver coins were still there. She’d looked wildly around her small bedroom. Clothes; she needed suitable attire. She must be ready to run if things went wrong. Her nightclothes would not be seemly.
“Netty.” She’d heard her husband bellow loud enough to wake the dead, certainly the household staff. He’d sounded drunk as usual and more angry than normal. With no time to change, she’d scooped up a heavy woolen shawl, slipping her purse and the papers securely into a deep pocket.
Quickly, she’d descended to the foyer stairs where her husband waited. He’d stood at the entrance to the library, shaking with rage, his face purple and ready to explode. In his hands, he’d held papers. Her heart had fluttered painfully.
In her haste, she’d neglected to replace them in the secret drawer. Her courage had deserted her. This wasn’t how she’d intended to pry information from him. She’d cowered at the thought of her lost advantage. Springing forward, Robert had painfully caught her wrist, dragging her into the room.
“Do you have any explanation as to why my private papers have been rifled through?”
Netty had ignored the question. Mustering a shaky voice, she’d confronted him. “I should like an explanation for this, Robert.”
He’d appeared stunned to find the tiny map in her hand. She’d watched as the realization of her knowledge dawned across his face. Without any warning, he’d balled his hand into a fist, punching her hard in the stomach.
“I told you never to question me,” he’d whispered, the venom in his voice dripping poison. Dragging her to a chair, she’d doubled over, unable to breathe. Robert screamed for Eli. It hadn’t taken him long to appear, his leering grin a sign he’d hoped for some excitement. Looking wildly from Robert to Netty, he’d waited for a command. With a nod from Robert, Eli had put his meaty paws on her, holding her down with his well-muscled brown arms, his reeking breath bathing her neck while Robert paced.
This will not be good, Netty had thought as she’d tried to sit up. She’d been able to hear Robert muttering angrily under his breath. His words had grown louder as he’d increased his cursing. Her ears had perked up when she’d heard her mother’s name; something about her mother being difficult.
Shapely . . . just get rid of her, but she tempted me . . . the tramp . . . firm thighs . . . spread her legs for James Woods when they were kids. Choking the life out of her . . . Satisfaction . . . brat to meet a similar fate.
Unthinking, Netty had cried out in shock. “You killed Mama? Why? Why?”
Robert’s eyes had zeroed in on Netty. She’d cringed in her chair, Eli still holding her down. As Robert had moved to grab her, the front doorbell had rung. Robert froze, his hand raised to strike. He’d ordered Eli to answer the door.
They’d listened as Eli explained that Robert was indisposed. The men at the door insisted they see him as his presence was needed at the carriage house. To make matters worse for Robert, the chief of police had accompanied them, a little matter of his cut. Clearly, it would take Robert’s intervention to make them go away, so he’d prepared to step into the foyer.
Hissing venomously to Netty as he’d left, he’d flayed her with his glinting eyes. “Don’t you dare move.”
Netty had sprung to her feet as soon as his back had been turned. She knew Robert’s plan for her. Now she must run, even as she’d seethed with anger and shock over the night’s revelations.
Glancing toward the fireplace, her eyes had caught the reflected glow of Robert’s prized gold coins. Without thinking, she’d grabbed one, thrusting it into her undergarments, then dashed out the French door to the terrace.
From there she’d begun her long journey to Sussex County. Hiding in barns at night and staying to the wooded edge of the roads by day, she’d resolutely limped her way, stumbling over rocks and ruts, ignoring the protests of her tender bleeding feet.
*
Netty’s thoughts were suddenly yanked back to the present. Did I doze off? She realized she’d dawdled away hours of valuable time with her reminiscing. The late afternoon air was cool and she knew it was time to get back to the cabin to light the evening’s fire.
The small object still hidden under her bodice dug into her chest. She reached in to adjust it, first drawing it out to admire, the coin glinting in the late afternoon light. Yes, it was the coin she’d purloined from her husband’s collection.
She hesitated to use it for cabin repairs, as it would draw too much attention. She suspected her husband might not come after her. After all, she legally owned the cabin now. But she’d no intention of giving him another excuse. She didn’t want to be accused of robbery. People had a dim view of stealing in these parts, it was a serious crime.
Netty finally realized that Robert had only married her for the land. And it was now clear to her that her real father had been Mr. Woods. It explained so much. She loved her papa dearly, but she also loved Mr. Woods. She felt lucky to have had two good men in her life. Pulling up her bodice to replace the coin, it inexplicably slipped from her stiff, chilled fingers. Lord! She watched as it bounced off the rock and over the edge. She scrambled up to hear it ping on the rocks below. Leaning over, she saw it bounce all the way to the cairn of stones she’d noticed on her ascent up the path. It glinted in the sun, mocking her. There was no choice but to climb down and retrieve it. Rolling up the legs on her torn and faded trousers, she slipped down from the granite rock.
As Netty approached the cairn, she saw it was much larger than she’d first thought. She reached to pick up the coin, her fingers dislodging a stone, sending the coin deeper into the mound. Ugh, the prospect of digging the coin out lacked appeal. She wanted to go home to the cabin. Grumbling, she lowered herself to the ground, pushing stones out of her way. Progress was slow, her feet hurt and she quickly tired. The light dimmed as her digging created a large hole in the side of the hill. Where’s the darn coin? Netty decided she’d come back tomorrow when she’d be stronger. This had proved to be a bigger job than she’d expected. Rising to her feet, she brushed off her apron. In the periphery of her vision she saw a flash of colored light. An aura. Again? Not knowing what to make of it, she shrugged to herself and prepared for the trek back to the cabin.
Chapter 2
The Oolahan tried to shake off its sleepy weariness. Its tiny limbs, withered and leather-like, coiled protectively around its cooling body. Its small round head, perched upon its swiveled neck, was devoid of the fur that normally protected its face. Its perfectly round eyes, with their abundant lashes missing, were shut tight. It could feel that the fluid in its body was still low, making its eyes dry and cracked, its vision useless. Its long dense tail thumped weakly, unable to expel its healing light waves, although it could not project them on to itself, anyway.
Scattered around the great cavern were the large black fragments of its transport. It had no idea how long it had been in the cavern. It felt an urgency to begin the implementation of its mission, but unfortunately the details of the purpose eluded it. Sensing its presence, the creature thought perhaps the Womb could help. Why hadn’t it given him instructions? It needed help to recover and remember the mission.
Taking matters into its own hands, it decided to summon help. It sensed that the life force to which it called might be close. It didn’t worry, as it knew the life force would find its way eventually.
The creature ruminated, remembering its Brothers and Sisters back home. Many of the Oolahan were preparing for breeding. Breeding, a critical necessity for the Womb, meant death for the Oolahan. Once upon a time, the Oolahan had enjoyed immortality. They became Elders, learning the skills of the Womb, instead of being minions. Creativity exploded. So much could be done for life with so many solar systems to work with.
Disaster occurred when th
e Elders had decided to use their own genetic material to experiment with. Their experiment introduced one of the most destructive elements ever seen on a fertile planet. Unfortunately, the planet happened to be a long time favorite of the Womb.
As a result, the Womb had punished the Oolahan, denying them the privilege of immortality. A protein was introduced into their system, nullifying the hormones and enzymes that enabled their forever life. And they were forbidden to ever heal the results of their ill-fated experiment. Through the act of healing, it was discovered that the Oolahan could accidently pass to the life form the very protein that unlocked the introduced enzymes which triggered immortality.
The Womb agreed not to destroy the life form, only to monitor them until it became intolerable. The forbidden life form was not the only life that grew out of control. When a species on any world overwhelmed another to the point of extinction, or imbalance, the Womb would intervene.
Often, it meant the elimination of the offending species, and then the Womb would rain destruction, allowing new life to take its turn at evolution.
The Oolahan didn’t need to breed, as their numbers were enough to satisfy the Womb. But once they had been stripped of immortality, they began to die. Their only recourse was to breed their own replacements. Since they had originally been created by the Womb to act as its minions, the only way to breed was by incubating a cell from the host; a simple matter. The new cell was then implanted inside the dying Oolahan, taking nourishment from the host until it was ready to emerge, bringing about the eventual death of the host Oolahan.
Each Oolahan prepared a life cell then expertly implanted themselves: their talent was creating life. It was an intensely personal matter. After implantation was deemed successful and the cell was dividing well, the breeding was announced. Upon Emergence, the Oolahan Brothers and Sisters preserved the afterbirth with its valuable cells, took charge of the new naive Oolahan and monitored the disposition of the deceased, who would expire within a very short time.
This Oolahan had missed the opportunity to report its Breeding before it was chosen for the mission. Easily overlooked in the excitement of its preparations, the breeding had remained unreported. Signs of life inside the minion became apparent after it had started its journey to this world. But it alone had been aware of its condition. Had its condition been known, it would have been rejected for the flight.
It knew the Emergence had occurred sometime after landing. Evidence of dried and useless afterbirth abounded. Had it been conscious during the Emergence, the healing waves of the afterbirth might have prolonged its life. If the Emergence had occurred back home, it would have been surrounded by Brothers and Sisters, experts in the science of rechanneling. The rechanneling of waves from the afterbirth had the ability to prolong life for a short time, long enough to make preparations to salvage its valuable cells. It should have expired by now. For some strange reason, it still lived, although just barely. Either way, the mission had been doomed from the start. The creature wondered how long it had to live as it continued to sort out the confusion of its circumstances.
Apparently, hibernation and the birth had changed its body chemistry, altered it in some fashion upon successful landing and burrowing. Or had it been caused during the entry into this different atmosphere? Was it because of the new Oolahan’s Emergence? Did the fact that Emergence had happened on this new planet somehow interfere with the chemical compounds in its system?
Not being genetically programmed for maternal or paternal feelings, it didn’t show concern about the whereabouts of its offspring. But it did worry about its mission. Maybe in time it could sort things out, but right now it needed to concentrate on attracting the life force to it. It needed its sustenance.
It was not within the fabric of its species to hurt living creatures. Its species revered all life. For an eternity, their sole purpose had been to study and enhance life. The Elders had been fiercely ambitious. The creature suspected its mission had something to do with the changes in its species’ priorities since the life-altering mistake of the Elders. Their attention had turned from their business in the stars to their own survival. At the moment, the creature had no idea how the details of its mission could be recovered. So it decided to meet one necessity at a time.
The creature tried to lift its confused head, bringing on a sharp pain accompanied by dizziness. It had somehow been damaged. It felt its useless wings crumpled and cramped under its tiny body. It tried desperately to remember something about the life forms of this planet. Unable to focus, it wondered if it was due to the unexpected presence of its offspring, the atmosphere of the planet or complications during the Emergence. Oh, did I already have that thought?
As the creature drew in the life form, it planned to take what was needed and leave the life form essentially unchanged for now. The current in its veins quickened as its crystal-like antlers picked up the distant sounds. The sounds were very faint, the entrance to its shelter being so far away and at a different elevation. Soon the next chapter of its mission would start, but sadly, it had little hope for success, as its death, due to the Emergence, was probably not far off.
*
Netty labored long and hard to remove stones and larger rocks from what appeared to be the entrance to a tunnel. She felt dog tired. How or why she continued was beyond her comprehension. The sun had set hours ago and the cold numbed her fingers. Who in the world dug a tunnel way out here and why should I care? Her poor feet screamed, her sores begging for a good soaking. Netty found she could now stand in the mouth in the tunnel.
Straightening up and standing tall, she realized she could actually see inside what should have been a pitch-black interior. Reaching out, she touched one of the walls, feeling its hard, compressed and slightly burnt texture. She quickly withdrew her hand as the wall felt suddenly squishy and wet. Examining her hand, she found it bone dry.
Quickly moving away from the strange wall, she took tiny steps into the tunnel. As she shuffled along, she noticed the absence of debris on the floor. Odd, she thought. And why is it that I have no trouble seeing in the dark? Actually, it no longer appeared to be night. It seemed to be more like daylight. What is this place?
She trudged on, noticing tunnels branching off the main artery into many other directions. A quick peek astonished her with the breadth and the height of the other branches. She must be careful or she’d get lost.
She then found herself crossing a huge cathedral of a cavern. Time passed as she continued on, sticking to the main artery. From time to time, she rubbed her hand along a normal-looking wall. The harder she pressed it, the deeper her hand disappeared. Yet each time her hand remained dry when withdrawn. She eventually noticed a distinct change of grade, signaling her descent. Her shivering ceased as the cave chased away her chill.
Netty suddenly stopped her trek. She turned to the right, noticing a small opening to what appeared to be a chamber. Puzzled about an irresistible compulsion which unexpectedly gripped her, she paused, then entered the chamber.
Clearing the little opening, she gasped at the sight of what appeared to be a dead infant lying on a rock ledge. As she approached the child, she realized her first impression had been wrong. It was not a child at all, she could clearly make out a tail. She edged closer, her heart going out to the poor creature, which had probably found an opening to the cavern and crawled inside to die, safely away from the forest predators. But what such creature is this? The tiny shriveled body was unrecognizable. It was obviously female, as she didn’t see any signs of genitalia. She strangely saw no overt signs of decay. Cradling the creature’s head in her hands, she prayed over it, asking God to accept another of his children into his arms.
As Netty’s eyes were clenched in prayer, she failed to notice the creature’s tail rising. She tenderly cradled the creature’s head, feeling sudden warmth. Opening her eyes, she saw the little creature’s limbs had unfurled and taken on a rosy golden hue, although the texture still looked like that of dissecte
d leather.
Suddenly, she spotted the tail hanging in the air. The end was now shaped like a large bulb, extruding a thick fibrous membrane. She felt a wave of pressure and detected a stinky aroma. Good heavens, the creature is alive. Startled, but not yet frightened, she dropped the creature back on the rock ledge, stepping back. As she watched, the creature slowly opened its eyes. They then shut, just as slowly, as if in great pain. A weak mewing sound emanated from its body, yet its mouth failed to move.
Netty felt suddenly weak and fell down flat on her generous bottom, her skin tingling. The creature’s eyes opened again and watched her. It didn’t move. Perhaps it cannot, she thought. Maybe I should take it home. She could nurse it back to health. They stared at each other for several minutes; the creature on the ledge, Netty on the chamber floor. She wondered how long she’d been inside the cavern. She should be getting home to bed, but realized she no longer felt bone tired. Standing up, she discovered her feet no longer hurt, either. She dismissed her good fortune, grateful she’d now have the strength to walk back through the cavern and home with the tiny creature in her arms.
Brushing herself off, she approached gingerly, trying not to frighten the creature. Carefully, she slid her hands under its sunken belly, giving extra support to its head. It mewed again. Looking into its expressionless face, it blinked then stared at her, but offered no protest. Easy she thought, I do not want it to bite me, although it looks like it surely does not have the strength. She placed the creature up over her shoulder, as you would an infant, and gently rubbed its back to reassure it.
“There, there, little girl, Netty will take care of you.” Slipping off her apron, she placed it around the little creature’s pitiful shoulders and started her trek out of the cavern and back home.
*
Alien Species Intervention: Books 1-3: An Alien Apocalyptic Saga (Species Intervention #6609) Page 3
