Dying to Return (The Station #3)

by Trish Marie Dawson

  "Yes I have, Father. I didn't think it would be appropriate for Piper to be invaded without a way to protect her thoughts," he says curtly.

  Rather than being upset with his son's underhanded comment, Andulen laughs. "I have no intention of invading anyone's private thoughts, only those that are offered. So, Piper, you must have many questions. I can only imagine what you think of this place or myself…" he pauses before his smile widens, "…or my Son."

  Rush coughs into his hand, "Father…" Andulen waves him off, and Rush quiets.

  "Let us allow Piper Willow to speak, shall we?"

  Um. "I don't really know what I think, Sire. Rush brought me here for answers. And to…teach me how to use my mind, I guess," I say quietly.

  "So he shall. But you have questions of your own. Ask them of me, and I will do my best to answer them." He stares calmly at me with his hand draped over the arm of the chair. His relaxed state is catching and I shift around on the bench until my backside is more comfortable.

  "Well. We could start with how I got here and who you are," I laugh nervously.

  His eyebrow shoots upward. "Interesting first question. And one I would have thought would be explained to you before you arrived," he says, with a cool edge to his voice.

  Rush opens his mouth to speak, but is silenced by a sharp wave of his father's hand. "Andurush will apologize for that later. You are the first charge in a very long time that he has brought home with him. I suppose he has forgotten the basics." Andulen leans back into his chair and runs a hand through his hair before continuing. "Dhara is obviously different from your home. It is different from any planet in your solar system. We have studied the stars and beyond them for many a millennia. It is in our nature to explore the beyond. This is how we came upon your home. So much of it was broken. We have studied your people, who are so similar and yet so different from ourselves since the beginning of your people's existence. We are connected in more ways than you will ever fully understand. You have so much potential locked away in your brains, but you are a long way from being able to comprehend your possibilities. When that happens, if that happens, you may find your people a lot like those of my planet."

  With a wave, he gestures at the five feet of space between himself and Rush. "My Son is much like I was when I was young; he likes to explore and see what lies beyond our home. A very long time ago he and a few others discovered your people, and Andurush was intrigued by the scattering of your energy after your bodies failed. All of that energy - that life, it must go somewhere. So he created a place for it to go for some of you."

  I turned, wide-eyed to stare at Rush. "You created the Station?"

  His father answers for him. "He did not do this alone, no. And your home planet is not the only one that has been…for lack of a better word, meddled with."

  "I don't understand. Why would you do such a thing?" I'm dumbfounded at what I'm hearing.

  "Piper Willow. We have all been created by a force we do not entirely understand. Be it natural or otherworldly. Every once in a while Dharians discover a place that has the potential to evolve into greatness. My Son believes your people, humans you call yourselves, have that potential. He is simply aiding your evolution."

  "Wow. So. This ability I have, this is a sort of evolution of my kind?" I ask nervously.

  "Being a Seer is something you are born with. It is not something you can create. Your brain is simply awake more so now then it was before you died."

  "I don't understand," I sigh.

  "Your energy - it didn't entirely dissipate when your body died, Piper Willow. That dark part of your brain that was waiting for a charge…that was waiting for a chance to work, it continued on in the form of energy, which is how you became a Seer. I believe with the way my Son has explained to me upon your arrival here, that he simply encouraged your psyche to accept it."

  "But not everyone that dies ends up at the Station. Why not?"

  He smiles and stretches out one long and toned leg. "Your planet is a large one. Twice the size of ours, in fact. Not everyone that dies there even wants that second chance. But there are many who would die a thousand deaths for the chance to make things right. It would not be possible to carry the energy of so many on to another place, not to mention it wouldn't be responsible on our part to interfere with the after-lives of an entire race."

  "So, those who die and don't go to the Station, they go somewhere else?"

  "Of course. Energy never completely dies out. But even I do not know where they all end up. The universes hold many mysteries. Some we may not want the answers to." He flexes his legs out before him, hooking his ankles together. A thin strand of gold dangles at the base of his left leg delicately.

  "But…how is it even possible to get from Dhara to Earth?"

  "That is a much simpler answer to give. We travel along ripples in space and time. We call them Bridges; your people might refer to them as a type of wormhole."

  "Wormholes? But…I came apart. I felt it. How is that possible?"

  "It's all energy. Andurush here simply controlled it," he says with a smile.

  "Controlled it?"

  Rush nudges me with his elbow and I look over to see him tapping his temple with one finger. "It's all done up here," he says.

  "That's crazy," I breathe.

  "Not really, if you could use all of your brain, you'd be surprised what you could do with it," he replies.

  I've never wanted to brush up on my Science and Math as much as I do at this moment. Even after arriving at the Station, some of it made sense but this is the definition of extraordinary.

  "Will I be able to go back?"

  Both men laugh. Andulen smiles at me and says, "Yes, you can return to your station whenever you choose. Now, I have some questions for you, if you don't mind? But could we continue this conversation over some food?"

  "Food?" I blink between Rush and his father.

  "You must be ravaged. Come. Let's eat. We can discuss your stay here at more length over full stomachs." Andulen rises and we stand before him, but I hear nothing else he says.

  My stomach is indeed grumbling at the mention of eating. I know I will do whatever they ask of me…they had me at 'food'.

  CHAPTER 4

  The people of Lurriah know how to set a beautiful table. A thick plank of polished wood that spans from one end to the other of the large dining room is topped with fresh foods lined up on platters down the center of the table. If need be, the table could seat well over one hundred diners. I assume this is where our small party is to be seated, but I stand still at Rush's side until he guides me to a chair. After settling in, servants dressed in cream tunics and matching pants bring out platters of bread. Bread. My mouth salivates as the smell of the freshly baked loaves fill the dining hall.

  I reach for nothing. Not sure of the customs or expectations of my hosts, I wait for Rush to offer each food item to me. I turn nothing down. There are only two things that resemble something familiar - the Lurrian version of an apple and a banana, though the colors are off. The oblong and curved fruit that the others have peeled open from tip to tip is a pale orange color, and the rounder object, once sliced open, has blue flesh, instead of white. The seeds appear to be in the same place as an apple though, so I pluck them out and inspect them on my plate.

  Steamed foods rest hotly in several bowls, and from Rush's upturned nose at one of the greens, I assume they are vegetables. Nothing on the table looks as if it ever had legs or a face.

  I lower my guard down just slightly and ask Rush in the kindest way I can, Are you Vegetarians?

  He pauses with his fork, a three-pronged silver implement that could be from any kitchen back at home, and looks at me from the corner of his eye. All life is connected here. As it is on any planet. We wouldn't eat one of our creatures. It would be like…eating a sibling. He shrugs and I smile. That's fine with me. I stopped eating meat when I was fourteen after I did a school paper on factory farming. Just…gross.

  I sho
vel a spoon full of a stew-like substance that might be rice pudding and relish each moment of the sweet texture as it coats the inside of my mouth and slides down my throat. I've eaten through two fruits and several vegetables, taking generous bites of the bread loaf I was given by the server when I notice the room has grown quiet and Andulen, Andella and Rush are all watching me eat.

  Swallowing hard, I force a bit of partially chewed food down and attempt to smile graciously, placing my hands delicately in my lap. Andella surprises the table by giggling loudly. Fortunately for me, Rush speaks with a wave of his hand at my plate.

  “I imagine eating again must be a wonderful experience,” he says with a smile.

  I nod, hoping I don't have food smeared across my chin, though it wouldn’t surprise me. “Sorry. Yes, I haven't had food since before…you know.”

  Heaviness settles over the table and Andella is no longer giggling. “Why did you do it, Piper Willow?”

  “Andella!” her father hisses. He seems embarrassed for her, but she holds my stare across the wide table. I see nothing sinister, just simple curiosity in her eyes.

  I reach for my blue-tinted glass and sip at the water. Gulping down air, I try on my best smile and elbow Rush slightly when I feel his gentle prodding at the locked gates of my mind.

  “I can't answer that. I mean…” I pause, allowing myself to reflect, “I guess I do know why. But I don't know why I thought killing myself was the only option.” With a shrug, I sip more water.

  Andella reclines slightly in her chair and nods. “Unlike my brother,” she shoots Rush a warm smile, “I have not traveled to your world, but I have seen into it. There is much sadness there. Such a loss of potential. I think you are different though. I think on some level, you must have known there was something else beyond your life. Did you not?”

  I twirl the fabric napkin on my lap while considering the question carefully. “I think I just wanted the pain to be over.” The tears build up in my eyes as my voice drops to just above a whisper, “Some people call it Heaven, a better place after life. I didn't care about Heaven or Hell, I just wanted out. Selfish, I know.”

  A large hand reaches toward me and I look up through my blurred vision to find Andulen's hand atop mine. Rush is also touching me, and though she's clear across the table, I feel Andella's calming presence as well.

  “Child. You cannot fit your life into a square coffer. It will find a way to spill out over the sides and explore that which surrounds it. Even once the coffer is lidded, your life doesn't cease to exist - you carry on. That is what you have done, Piper Willow. That is why you sit here with us this evening, eating and drinking and breathing. Your life - it will always struggle to stay outside that coffer. Do you understand this?”

  I nod at Andulen and smile as he squeezes my hand before releasing it. My voice won’t work, so I sip from my tinted glass again.

  “Now. I have serious matters to discuss about this Earth of yours. The first thing is a question I have had on my mind since my Son here breached the subject to me.” He pauses with his face set into a hard expression and I gulp. “Can you explain to me what Rugby is?”

  ***

  The rest of our meal is spent laughing and sharing stories about our worlds. As I sit at the table, welcomed without a second thought, I find myself thinking about those I've left behind. Not only my father, but Niles, Kerry-Anne, Mallory and of course - Sloan. I miss him. I've been so overwhelmed with the glory and wonder of this new world that I haven't had a chance to miss home. But as Rush escorts me back to my room, promising an adventurous day once the suns rise, I fidget with the side of my gown in wonder. Why did Rush bring me here? How long will I be away from home and when can I return? I'm lost so deeply in my thoughts that when Rush touches my shoulder, I jump underneath his warm hand.

  “Sorry. You looked as if you were lost there for a moment,” he says quietly.

  “I was. I am.”

  He tilts his head, and his eyes darken just slightly enough for me to recognize the shift in color. He's trying to pry open the door I closed between us at the dinner table. With a smile, he nods at my closed suite door and opens it for me, being careful not to cross the threshold.

  “We'll see each other in the morning. I wish you a good night's sleep,” he says.

  “Wait…I can sleep?”

  “Of course. If you're tired. Aren't you?”

  I am. I'm exhausted. It's as if I haven't slept in years and for all I know, that's true. After I nod, he bends his upper half in a modest bow and then closes my suite door. Alone in the room once again, I set my palm on the wall by the doorknob and slowly slide it a few inches downward just like I was instructed to do by Andella. A warm glow of light pulses around the room from a central point in the ceiling and also flanks both sides of the massive bed frame. Moving my hand around, I adjust the light of the room until it’s perfect for sleeping and slither out of my gown. After draping the material across the foot of the bed, I climb back into my sleep clothes; the shirt and shorts I died in, and collapse onto the comforter. Not even bothering to cover myself, I bury into the pillows and almost instantly fall asleep.

  Dreams after you've died are an interesting thing. For one, I remember them when I wake in the morning. Every detail of every scene that played out in my mind while my body slept is still there, in my subconscious. With how busy my brain actually was during the night, I'm amazed I feel refreshed and energized.

  As if on cue, a gentle yet persistent knock on the door announces the arrival of my breakfast. After sliding off the bed, I pad over to the door, hoping to see Rush or his sister, but instead a servant with shockingly white-blonde hair stands in front of me, holding a tray adorned with every color of the Lurrian rainbow. I take it with a smile and am told that after I eat I'll be escorted around the grounds to meet with Rush. I guess they wake early in Lurriah.

  I eat on the lounge so I can overlook the city. The lake that was bright pink the day before is an eggplant color this morning and I notice the air feels cooler. As I chew on a soft piece of fresh bread, and wash it down with a pulpy fruit juice I don't know the name of, I follow the line of the lake up to the nearby mountains, squinting to see the tops in the early morning sunshine. Some are capped with a white color - what I assume to be snow. I wonder if anyone lives in the mountains, like the people of Earth do.

  As I swallow the last of my meal, it strikes me how badly I want to explore Rush's planet. I want to see every nook and cranny, meet every tribe of people from Dhara, and taste and feel all things exotic. I'm not sure why, but I know when I return to the Station, I'll want to be able to explain what this place is to the others. Though I doubt words will do this beautiful planet any justice.

  Wide awake, and dressed in another flowy gown that gathers just below my modest breasts, I slip into a pair of flats provided by Andella’s younger sister’s wardrobe and twist my hair into a series of messy braids before pinning them back into a low bun. I almost feel like I belong in the city when I'm guided down the staircases and outside into a garden. Rush stands close to his sister, talking so softly that I am unable to hear their words. The low hanging branch of a willow-type tree just barely brushes the top of Rush's dark hair. Twice he swats at the leaves when they skitter over his head from the breeze before the servant announces our arrival to the pair.

  The platinum blonde-haired man bows at me and I do my best curtsy. After he smiles nervously and shoots a confused look toward Rush, he retreats back into the castle and closes the heavy wooden door behind him. Alone in the garden with Rush and his sister, I look around us, taking in the sights and smells of the plants and trees. I smile in wonder at the flowers blooming out of a giant pot on my right. Some of the colors are easily recognizable but many are foreign. I don't have names for them. Rush approaches me from the other direction, all smiles and freshly groomed.

  “Best of mornings to you,” he says warmly.

  “Good morning,” I answer, suddenly shy.

  “D
ella has begged to accompany us today. I'd like to show you around Lurriah and also some of the surrounding cities before we talk about your training, if you are interested?” he asks. His eyes are pale silver; a calming sort of iced blue, like a glacier in still waters.

  I nod at him and greet his sister with the Lurrian version of a handshake - palm on top of knuckles. I'm tempted to grab her hand and pump it up and down with a good shake, but not knowing how she would respond, I simply allow her hand to warm mine.

  “Oh, before we go, I had a question that I didn't want to ask in front of your father,” I say to Rush. He eyes me and nods, waiting for me to continue. “Okay, so I noticed that your family's names all start the same way and you don’t go by last names. Why?” I fidget with one of the side pockets of my gown as Rush and his sister lead me through the garden, down a paved path.

  “Unlike your culture, most of our people use only one name. We rely on different consonants to establish families. For instance, in Lurrian culture, our names begin with the family name. We all shorten it at one point in our lives, though. You can call me Rush and it won't be seen as informal.”

  “And please, call me Della. ‘Andella’ is more of a formal greeting,” Rush's sister says before linking her arm into mine. We walk this way for a bit as I mull over what Rush has explained.

  “You said this is Lurrian tradition? What about other cities on Dhara?”

  “Well, the same basic principal applies, though some have chosen to change the way their names identify them as individuals. We have many cultures. And many traditions that have changed over time,” Della says with a wave of her hand. Shiny strands of impossibly thin gold dangle from her wrist, similar to the ones I saw on her father’s ankle. The center of them is held together by a jewel the grey color of spent coal with a soft rose colored rim.