by JB Penrose
“You, you look just like I remember you,” she told her mother as they walked toward the door.
“Just a little more gray.” Dalyn laughed and touched the single gray lock at her forehead. “Something to expect after two thousand years.” She hugged Rachel again. “Oh, Roko, I have sorely missed you.”
The hallway took them to an elevator. “Level four,” her mother instructed the comm-panel.
The mirrored doors reflected a family portrait as they closed. It was captivating, as if moving, or speaking would break the magic. Their arm-in-arm picture reminded her of the movie “The Wizard of Oz” as Dorothy and her companions danced along the Yellow Brick Road; Rachel couldn’t contain herself. The giggle that bubbled up inside was energy that had to escape. It made her mother laugh, too, and that encouraged Peter and James. When the door opened the hall was filled with happy echoes.
Mother led daughter down the tubular corridor. With every step, Rachel remembered more of her childhood. Pictures etched or painted on the stone walls told the story of the Orygin’s crash. She recognized the orbit of Biatra-IV and its moons, and remembered her lessons from childhood.
“I used to play in here!”
Rachel’s fingers traced a familiar pattern on the wall and activated a hidden lock to a room she knew to be there. The small stone door pivoted backward on a silent hinge. Fascinated with her re-discovery, she stepped inside the cool, dark room.
This was the bridge for the Orygin. The craft had settled at a slight downward tilt, and she remembered it from her childhood playing ball in here often. Scorch marks framed computer panels mounted in the walls, or the slots where a borrowed component used to sit. She knew the door toward the front would lead to the pilot’s cabin and the door to her left accessed other levels of the ship.
The console where she sat was her mother’s station. Navigator. Astronomer. Alien. Mother. The truth rushed back to her in a flood of memories. Her fingers brushed across the familiar desktop. “I sat here to study.”
“You remember that?” Her mother’s hand rested tentatively on her shoulder.
Rachel activated a computer and the screen lit with images of alien landscapes and horizons. Two suns, one solid white and another of silvery blue, hovered over jagged peaks rising against a violet sky. The rock ridge housed a city, the capital, Tephra.
“That’s Biatra-IV.” Her mother’s quiet voice reminded her. “Home,” she repeated hopefully.
For a single moment Rachel wished she hadn’t come. A second separation from her parents would break her heart. Peter’s quick intake of breath warned Rachel of the impact of her words, but she forced herself to say them anyway. “I can’t go.”
“But you have to come with us!” Her mother’s voice cracked. “You belong with us.”
Tears instantly spilled on the console, either hers or her mothers, Rachel couldn’t look up. Her face would reveal the same tears. It would be so easy to leave behind the problems she’d been holding at bay: the conference, the bombing, and the funeral. But Rachel knew what she had to do. “I don’t understand it, but I know I have to stay. I belong here.”
* * *
Iscar watched the Aurora’s approach over the ancient city. When the Aurora stopped overhead it took on the corporal shroud for invisibility. Reider had done an excellent job reproducing the Orygin, although Iscar couldn't imagine what power source Reider used to replace the tasht.
Iscar used a small windrunner to enter the Immortal Valley earlier in the day to avoid being detected. The trip had taken longer, but he was glad he’d arrived in time to see the ship descend from the clouds. He'd be just as glad to see it leave.
He had no desire to join them on the return trip home; just for them finish their business on Earth was all he wanted to confirm. The waiting seemed interminable.
Iscar had no idea what the DayStar was all about, he only knew it was the perfect excuse for the Aurora to launch. The only thing Reider and the crew thought about since landing was how they were going to get home. Good riddance, Iscar thought.
His own time had been spent in preparation for the Spokesmon. Her Earthly tasks were going to require his help, his understanding of the world, its past, and the future to come. His duty was to help the Spokesmon prepare for the Awakening.
Lounging inside the shade of a doorway to escape the afternoon heat, Iscar wondered about their eventual meeting. Hopefully, history hadn’t poisoned her against him. The crew might have doubted his intentions, but from the beginning Jesus had said that only he, Iscar, had the strength to do what must be done. He spent centuries preparing to do just that.
The rouleau, his section of the Orygin's power source, communicated to him through dreams; followers came to Delphi from every part of the explored world led by those dreams.
They called their city Delphi, and the ancient legend of the Delphi Oracle was born again. Although most of the world knew stories of the Greek mountain-metropolis and its oracle, only Believers knew the entrance to his city inside the mountain. It developed over centuries into a marvel of technology and government, and not knowing when the Spokesmon would reveal herself, its citizens were instructed how to operate in and out of a modern society totally unaware of the Delphi existence.
There was also something special about the Delphi population; everyone there possessed some type of extra-sensory perception. From telepaths to telekinetics, Delphi citizens developed his alien technology with their para-normal talents.
And everything was ready. His visions began when the DayStar appeared. That’s precisely how Iscar knew the time had finally come. John Reider’s launching of the Aurora proved he was right. Iscar was sure the Spokesmon would remain behind. Just the fact that the Orygin’s crew never found her proved to the Delphians that the Spokesmon was on Earth to be a part of their plan.
Delphi will be your home, Iscar thought. And everything is ready.
* * *
Before her mother could voice another objection to Rachel remaining behind, the stone door pushed opened from the outside corridor. John ran breathless into the room.
“Good! You’re all here.” John saw Rachel and stopped. “Peter? Are you sure this is such a good idea?”
Peter grabbed his arm. “You don’t know what’s happened. I’ve found her!”
“Hello, Uncle John.” Rachel smiled.
Andrew followed on John’s heels; engrossed with the readings from the control module he carried, and stopped short when he saw Rachel. John stayed Andrew’s question with a gesture.
“You found Roko?” John asked Peter. “Rachel? Is Roko?”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”
Peter slipped his hand in hers, her parents stepped closer; Rachel braced herself. It was even strange for her to hear the truth.
John stared, dumbfounded. His gaze shifted from Peter to Mag’Dalyn and James. Their smiles erased any doubts and he began to laugh.
“Rachel?” Andrew echoed. “Is Roko? Peter?”
Peter shrugged, and Andrew whistled. John pulled Rachel toward him with the flair of a dance step and hugged her gleefully.
“Such Divine humor! I can’t believe you were so close and we didn’t know. I guess you’re feeling pretty good, now, aren’t you Mags?” He sobered. “I’m glad Roko is finally found, but I’m thrilled to know it’s you.”
“I didn’t know myself until Peter put it together,” Rachel said. “But a lot of questions are finally answered.”
“Good work, Peter,” Andrew said. “It’s taken us centuries of traveling in uncharted lands, following up on every unusual event, questioning the oldest citizens in every town for clues, and you found Roko right under our nose?”
Everyone laughed. They didn’t really know what to say – nor did she. With the simple announcement, things had already changed between them. Peter squeezed her hand and with just that touch she felt better.
“Well, now that you’re here, I’ve been saving something for the Spokesmon.” John
went to the interior wall behind the door and tugged on a brick in the stone.
“When did you build that?” Andrew asked.
From inside a secret compartment, John carefully removed something wrapped in a roughly woven cloth. Holding it to his heart, he beckoned her approach.
“Even though I didn’t know it would be you, I have known this moment would come to fruition.” He pulled back the material and offered a tubular object made of animal hide.
“On Patmos, my visions were of the past and the future. Much of it I didn’t understand.” His expression sobered. “These are the words I could not speak, of the dreams I cannot forget. The angels called these instructions the Words of Thunder.”
Rachel’s heart raced, and her hands shook as she accepted his gift.
“Be aware,” he warned. “You have only one chance to read the scroll. At sunrise of the day after unveiling the document will destroy itself. As a matter of fact, light of any kind will fade the ink.”
“How am I supposed to read it in the dark?”
John shrugged. “More Divine humor. I only know that you get one chance. Read and remember.”
Remember. There was that word again. Rachel clutched the precious gift to her chest. The power of the words inside already warmed her heart, and her mind drifted into a calm void. She smiled knowing intuitively that it held many of the answers she sought.
“Rachel?”
She felt Peter’s arm slip around her waist. “You were beginning to sway.”
“I’m alright now.” Rachel straightened. She felt their concern, their love, and their support; her mother’s expression was pure pride. She felt sure she would need their strength in the future. Rachel released a deep breath and nodded to the sea of faces around her. “I’m fine. Now I have everything.”
“Great. Let’s get going!” John rallied them. The room echoed empty with his small cheer.
“I’m not going.” Rachel’s whisper cut through their joy.
“And I’m staying,” Peter announced.
“But there’s room for Rachel too,” John said.
“I need to stay,” she told them.
“I want to stay,” Peter confirmed.
“Mags and I feel we really must stay as well.” James confirmed the decision with a glance to Dalyn as she wiped the tears from her cheek. James slipped his arm around her for support.
“We said one-for-all, so I’d have to stay.” John straightened and deferred his nod to Andrew. “I won’t leave you here alone. At least, not alone with Iscar.”
“All for one!” Andrew agreed. “I’m staying as well.”
Rachel’s heart was breaking. After searching for centuries to find her mother, she knew it was time to say goodbye.
“But you can’t stay!” Her gesture held their protests at bay. “I don’t exactly know why, but I know your destiny is to find the source of the DayStar. And I feel like your time is running out. You have to launch. It’s time, now.”
“You can’t expect me to launch now,” her mother complained. “We just found you.”
“But the DayStar, and the danger,” Rachel worried. “What if someone exposed the truth about you?”
“Maybe it’s time the truth came out. It was different before we, before Peter found you.” Her father was clearly determined to change her mind. “But to leave now just doesn’t seem right.”
“It’s not supposed to be like this,” Rachel told them. “I can’t explain it. I have something I’m supposed to do. I don’t know what it is, but I’m the Spokesmon. I have a destiny, and I’m supposed to do it alone.” Peter started to protest but Rachel stopped him. “One that doesn’t include my parents.”
Her mother kept shaking her head in denial, but James’s arm was protectively wrapped around her shoulders.
“Daughter?” Her mother reached out, tentatively.
“You must launch,” she insisted. “Promise me you’ll go. You must.” They shared a long look between them, but her mother couldn’t stand up to her resistance. “It’s time for you to leave. You’re finally going home.” Hard as it was for her to accept, Rachel knew they had to launch as planned.
“Alright,” the admission was faint. “We’ll go.”
Andrew’s sigh was audible; James and John also nodded in agreement. “You’re the Spokesmon.”
“Actually, there’s one more matter to clear up,” Peter said. He scanned their curious faces, and then smiled at Rachel. “I think we have just enough time for a wedding.”
“A wedding?” Her own question was lost in the chorus that echoed around her.
“A wedding?” Her mother was instantly at her side.
“If Rachel will say yes.” He drew her hands between his. “I said I would love you forever. Now I want to prove it.”
“Oh, Peter.” She must be dreaming. “You mean right here? Right now, with my parents and all of our friends?”
“It’s the perfect time. That is, if you will say yes.”
“Of course I want to marry you!” She kissed him soundly. “I love you! Yes, yes, yes!”
“I love the idea!” Dalyn and James chimed in unison.
Andrew congratulated Peter with hugs and handshakes. “It’s a good thing I’m clergy. Would you like for me to perform the ceremony?”
Peter shook his head. “We don’t really need clergy here, and I want you to be my Best Man. What if we let John do it because he’s captain of the ship?”
Rachel laughed. “John is the perfect choice. After all, he introduced us.”
“There you have it.” John swaggered forward. “I am the best man for the job.”
“No,” Andrew corrected him. “I’m the best man.”
“Whatever!” Peter threw his hands over his ears pretending aggravation. “I’m trying to get married here.”
“Not here,” John started again. “We have to do it on the ship, where I’m the captain!”
Peter squeezed Rachel’s hand. “You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“All right, Andrew. Take us aboard.”
His brother made a few entries and voiced the command to device; they transported as a group to the Aurora's upper deck.
“Let’s go to my room.” Dalyn urged her daughter toward the stairs. “We can plan everything from there.”
“We’ll take care of the plans,” John told them. “You just get ready for the wedding of your life. Do you want a gown or something? We can make tuxedos for everyone.”
“Truthfully?” She checked with Peter first. “I’d like to remain in these robes, something simple. But I’m glad that you’re all in your flightsuits. Please keep them on if that’s comfortable for everyone.”
“Better than a tux,” Andrew admitted.
“Then it's settled,” Peter told her. “Leave the rest to me.”
“Would you carry this?” she asked Peter.
He eyed the package she offered, and then held out the valise, opened. “If you think it’s safe.”
“I trust you. And I’ve got a wedding to get ready for.” She placed the tube inside and kissed him again before following her mother up the stairs.
The door closed behind them and her mother leaned against it heavily. She didn’t move, only stood frozen, smiling and staring at her prodigal daughter. Rachel felt the love flow to her in waves and used it to build the security of knowing she would soon be without her again. Just for the moment, time had no measurement.
“I’m going to hug you until you burst,” her mother confessed and crossed the room.
“And I’m going to cry,” Rachel admitted with a laugh, “again.” But still they fell into each other’s arms and held tightly.
Her tears were just a release of joy, and she felt as though her heart would burst with happiness. Everything that flowed out of her, loneliness, insecurity, claustrophobia and confusion was being replaced with love, faith, and freedom. For the first time in her life, Rachel felt like a whole-person. It’s amazing what family
can feel like, she thought. It was a feeling she wanted to remember forever.
Her first visit to the Aurora didn’t include the crew’s private quarters but Rachel imagined they could be anything they wanted after seeing how the library could change. Her mother’s was much like her own room with a bed and bureau, very basic.
“I can’t believe you won’t let us stay on Earth.” Her mother pushed back from their hug but held her by the shoulders. “Do you know what it takes to leave you again?” After seeing the tears that ran down Rachel’s face she laughed lightly. “Of course you know,” and hugged her again. “The most important decisions are always the hardest.”
“I’m just happy for this moment.” Rachel took a deep breath and tried to compose herself. “Plus, I’m also sure that we’ll meet again, so there’s just a little less pressure.”
“Oh, I’m so glad to hear that.” Her mother hugged her, again. “It makes the wedding so much more fun to plan.”
“I can’t believe I’m getting married.” Her hand went to her nose and she tried to wish the redness away. Rachel knew exactly what she looked like when she cried. “I must look a fright.”
“Actually, dear, I think you’re glowing.” Her mother had a serious look for a moment. “Aurora, lights out.”
In the darkness Rachel again saw the trails as she moved her arms towards her mother. “Do you see that?”
“Of course,” Dalyn told her.
“Aurora, lights on.”
“You can do that?” There was a surprised look on her mother’s face when the lights brightened. “Not just the glowing. I’m surprised someone other than a crewmember can activate the ship’s commands. No matter,” she clasped her daughter’s hands between her own. “You were glowing, weren’t you? Don’t worry, dear. Jesus did that all the time. So did his mother. You’re the Spokesmon; I guess you’re used to it by now.”
