Teramar: The Gathering Night

by Thomas Michael Murray

  The stage manager had to push through a small crowd that had gathered. “Make room,” he shouted. “This way, Mr. Capet.” They turned the corner and looming out of the linoleum were the towering figures of the basketball men, looking very dark against the bright lights and white walls. The room went hush. Camera’s flashed. Most knew the story. Shayne awkwardly smiled and said, “Surprise?” Although the voice sounded timid, his eyes had the hot look of someone who had been patiently waiting.

  Jessica already informed the prince that his friends made the journey to Indianapolis. He knew they would meet sometime that day. With Shayne actually standing before him, Hadrian couldn’t help but jump at the old feelings. He had imagined this moment for weeks now. After a careful first step, he stopped himself. Catching sight of his teacher at the forefront, Hadrian turned and with great deference asked, “Dorothy, could you please hold the Strad for a moment so I can properly greet my friends?” The great pedagogue nodded her head, encouraging the prince. Cautiously, the young men awkwardly embraced, as the cameras really started to flash.

  Angela coughed “Mmmhmmm.” The two sprang from their minute. Smiling, Angela presented a bouquet of flowers that was almost as tall as her. She also offered a girl’s delicate curtsey as she passed these to the prince.

  “You were wonderful,” Ben murmured. The giant crushed the bouquet with a bear’s paw.

  Shayne added, “We finally got Ben out of his dark cave and into some culture!” The prince smiled at this. He missed the bad jokes.

  The giant glowered, “I’d gladly go to a lot more culture if it sounds like Hadrian.”

  The prince turned to his teacher. “Dorothy, please meet my ever squabbling friends.” Hadrian provided their first names. Everyone shook hands with the tiny woman who awkwardly held the violin under one arm. Behind them, the flashes rose to a nerve fever. Word had spread that the basketball stars had attended the concert.

  In a voice wrapped in pride, Dorothy Delay said, “Hadrian, the third movement was remarkable. You might have won this thing after all. The edge to that presto put the whole piece over the top. Like your famous friends, I was truly moved. Congratulations, my dear.”

  Interrupting the reunion, a slight man with a saddle for hair presented himself to the prince. “Mr. Capet. My name is Thomas. I am the second stage manager. They are ready to present the awards. The finalists are required. Please follow me.”

  Hadrian nervously smiled. “I guess this is it.”

  Thomas added, “Mr. Capet, I suggest you leave the bouquet with your friends.”

  After saying thoughtful goodbyes, Hadrian followed the official who led them underneath the stage through the room where the orchestra stored grand pianos. The two had to skirt round a flatbed elevator that hoisted the ebony instrument when called upon for a performance.

  “You played wonderfully, sir. My bet is on you.”

  With his cultivated sense of direction from a life in the forest, something didn’t seem right for the prince. As a second door slammed shut, Hadrian noted the stage manger had not followed. The room was dimly lit. Emerging from behind audition screens were four suited men with earth weapons drawn. They quickly and efficiently surrounded the prince.

  Without introduction, one of them barked, “I represent the United States government and you are to come with me, sir. Know that all of us are trained in martial arts and have orders to shoot if we must.”

  Having survived a rebellion, a robbery and a rape, the unflappable prince dryly replied, “Come with you where, sir? What laws have I violated?” The prince’s English now had a distinctly American accent.

  “Hadrian Capet, put your hands in the air and exit that door over there. Do it now!” Aggression and fear were in the man’s eyes. The agent obviously knew this was the alien.

  Hadrian prayed that Jessica was watching. She had probably anticipated these events, permitting the earth government’s plan to unfold. The FBI investigation would ultimately force the prince to focus on the defense of earth. The contest was over now. The prince added in a calm voice, “I’ll cooperate, but what about my friends?” Teramarian aristocrats were taught to initially use a bland tone to set off the voice.

  “They will be taken to the same place as you.” The ashen-faced man said no more. The gun wavered nervous.

  Jessica was certainly watching. Other than Justine’s Martin’s lab a mile under ground, the great computer had a free hand to affect almost anything on this planet. Patiently, she waited for the prince’s first move. Hadrian chided, “Couldn’t you have postponed your interference until the contest winner was picked? This is a fairly public setting.”

  “We have our orders, sir. Now move!” The man indicated with the weapon.

  Only one of the four blocked the door from where he entered. The prince scanned the room without moving his head and saw that the walls were lined with heavy, professional-grade music stands. He was confident he could take these men. His body was in an ample state of readiness to execute the physics of a quick attack. Hadrian had faithfully maintained a basic training regimen in New York. The problem here was that he required a quiet way out of this.

  In one elegant step, Hadrian flipped hand over foot and on the last wheel snatched a music stand, slamming it onto the government man’s head. All one could hear was the soft shuffle of leather shoes on linoleum followed by a sharp crack. Hadrian then fluidly cocked his arm and released the stand, which awkwardly flew like an earth golf club. Amidst three empty clicks and surprised shouts, the music stand brought down another. The prince slipped out of the room before any of the special agents could comprehend what happened.

  “Guns didn’t fire. Jessica must be watching.” Indeed, the great computer had already launched a fictional video on the earth security system. The computer had become very good at producing these. She also sealed a series of important doors throughout the building.

  Free to move, the prince retraced his steps. There wouldn’t be much time before the earth bosses deduced what just occurred. With purpose in his stride, Hadrian went to rescue his friends.

  The Security Office

  Most great orchestras have a need to closely monitor the comings and goings in their own great halls, especially when one considers the celebrity of the artists and the value of the instruments found on stage. Yet here at the Hilbert, the security office was a humble affair, placed in a lonely spot at the top of the theatre building. Pressed distressingly close to the fleshy Jolly Perkens, Dr. Justine Martin was finally getting accustomed to the crusted dandruff that perpetually sat on the FBI Director’s dark suit coat. She learned to ignore the flakes like bird shit on a windshield.

  After Justine’s team of analysts finally tied Shayne Wright to the mysterious “transmission,” she subsequently became witness to the FBI scuttling through their flash-flood investigation. Detectives easily marched forward on the well-trodden path from Shayne Wright to Hadrian Capet. When Agent Huber inevitably reached deeper into the case, filing subpoenas for Hadrian Capet’s personal records, they found the young man was his own black hole. Everyone close to the boy was suspiciously missing or deceased. Uncertain witnesses failed to recall anything notable. Huber even sent a team of agents to Norway to interview fictional neighbors and teachers. While the FBI found a cold case overseas, the newspapers still oozed a rich record that led directly to the music competition in Indianapolis.

  Agent Huber and his team unanimously believed the music festival was an ideal setting for an arrest. Foremost, they knew the exact time and date the young man took the stage. Hadrian Capet would be preoccupied and in unfamiliar surroundings. The labyrinth backstage provided an easy opportunity to corner their mark. Invoking national security, the President of the United States issued the necessary arrest warrants without the benefit of Miranda protection. After Director Perkens gave the final order, Justine felt a rush of excitement as television monitors presented Agent Huber and his teams fully in motion.

  Unaware of the unfoldi
ng FBI operation a mere few yards from where they stood, Angela and Ben turned to shuffle toward their seats while Shayne continued to stand there transfixed. The reunion of the two friends was both brief and awkward. Shayne felt unruly emotions greedily chase the now fresh memory. He hoped they would see each other that evening. Angela broke into this daydream, pulling him into the present, “Come on, Shayne. It’s time to watch the handsome one accept his prize.”

  Ms. Delay heard this and offered, “Really dears, don’t return to your box. They’ll let us watch from stage left. Afterwards, it will be easier for you to join him. Follow me.”

  As the three New Yorkers were about to join the famous pedagogue, Agent Kurt Huber arrogantly strode through this same hallway that ran the length of the theatre. “FBI. Out of the way.” Annoyed by the intrusion of the civilian bystanders, Huber raged, “Why didn’t we have the area cleared?” He knew Jolly and even the president were watching today’s proceedings.

  Projecting practiced authority; Huber took charge of the space with Eddie Dyson and four others in tow. Two of the dark suits quickly moved opposite, blocking any thought of escape. The FBI’s actions appeared rehearsed. Shayne and Ben stiffened and stood at their full height towering over Huber. Dorothy Delay turned toward the G-man, summoning the natural presence of someone who was used to giving orders and being obeyed. “Who are you and why are you interfering in this important competition?”

  Agent Huber knew of this woman. Her name was synonymous with Julliard. Huber responded in a quiet but firm voice, “Ms. Delay, first let me say we’ve all admired your work throughout the years. Your students have delighted so many.”

  Huber’s voice carried the full authority of the United State’s government but he also wrapped his tone in respect for the Julliard professor. Loud enough to be heard by all, but addressing Ms. Delay, he continued, “My name is special agent, Kurt Huber of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Right now, we need to take Shayne Wright, Ben Smith and Angela Munoza into custody.”

  The florescent light cast a harsh glare on the proceeding. Shayne immediately recognized the man. His natural authority, the grey crew cut, the hard eyes and the same black suit were not easy to forget. Agent Huber turned to the basketball star with a familiar, penetrating glare. Due to their prior encounter, Huber personally supervised this arrest. “Shayne, you and your friends will come with me.” The athlete was dumbfounded. “They couldn’t have followed us…”

  As a curious crowd continued to mill about, Huber impatiently shouted, pitching his voice above the commotion, “Everybody! Let’s move!” Huber turned to Ms. Delay and said in a more civilized tone, “Excuse us, again. I appreciate your cooperation.” To Eddie Dyson, he barked, “Ed, let’s roll them out of here!”

  The remaining fans and voyeurs openly expressed dissatisfaction with the bad manners. Some shouted, “Foul,” or “Leave them alone.” Shayne and Ben were heroes in their own right. Ignoring these complaints, Agent Dyson began to firmly guide people by their elbows as he roared, “You heard the man. Let’s go - nowwwww!” The other agents also pushed the remaining bystanders down the hallway. In the confusion, Shayne edged toward the door through which Hadrian exited.

  Huber noted this and said, “Don’t go there, big guy. We only need to talk to you. And let me be clear, this is not a request. Today, you have to come with us.”

  “On what charge,” Angela boldly asked?

  “We don’t need one. This is a national security concern. Please don’t make us handcuff you.”

  As abruptly as Huber and his men crashed into this hallway, Prince Hadrian kicked open the door from which he departed minutes prior. In a whirl of moving arms and legs, two agents immediately went down. The prince finished with an elegant cartwheel, landing in battle stance.

  “The Alien!” Huber finally saw his quarry in the flesh. Heartbeats went up a notch. “He’s only a boy and he’s not in custody as he should be!” Dyson and the remaining g-men automatically pulled out their weapons.

  Monitoring the situation from above, Jessica saw that events were spiraling out of control. Quickly, she directed a waiting hover into position above the building. She then lowered an elevator to the surface and deployed a series of protective shields to screen their escape. The hoard of FBI outside uneasily watched the arrival of the spaceship, as magnetic engines raised a heavy wind.

  The prince appraised the situation. Coolly, he addressed Agent Huber, “Those two on the floor are not hurt and will be fine.”

  Dyson snarled. None of them anticipated Hadrian’s ability and speed - that a near boy could single handedly incapacitate this squadron of veteran agents who were known for their combat skills. “Steady, Ed,” Huber hissed.

  The older agent turned to the alien and presented the situation, “Hadrian Capet, the building is surrounded by a hundred men. Helicopters, the airport - none of that is available to you. Come with us and your companions will not be placed in a lengthy detention.” Huber didn’t understand that a Teramarian spaceship waited outside.

  Hadrian gave the older man a kind smile. “I am sorry, sir. After I’ve had a chance to rescue my friends here, I promise to make contact with your leaders. There is indeed a pressing issue to discuss but you have caught me off guard today. We’re going to leave now.”

  Speaking to Jessica, Hadrian said loudly so that everyone could hear, “Door open.”

  As if by magic, a heavy fire door swung on its hinges. Outside, an elegant, silvery lift waited for them calling like a siren. Hadrian tried to appear deliberate and reassuring to his friends. They were in shock. Shayne’s eyes raged as he whispered, “You want us to go on that thing?” He pointed toward the swirling debris outside.

  Hadrian saw anger now as well. He walked over and tried to put a hand on Shayne’s shoulder. The athlete made a quick basketball sidestep to avoid the touch. As the prince stumbled, Eddie Dyson and the other agent lunged at Hadrian. The prince was too fast. In a cunning change of stance, he tricked Eddie and casually impaled the heel of his foot upon Dyson’s groin. Eddie withered to the ground.

  “That’s right. Go easy,” Hadrian nodded to the other man.

  Shayne shook his head. “Look at you, Hadrian. It’s all so easy? Playing house with us. There’s nothing you can’t do, right?”

  Now was not the time to have this discussion. Hadrian suppressed near hysterical impatience. “Of course, I couldn’t tell you. You would have never, ever believed me. You would have thought I was certifiable. You know it’s the truth!”

  Tension pulled across the prince’s smooth face. Hadrian urged his friends, “Guys, we have to leave now. United States law enforcement will be swarming outside and I don’t want anyone to get seriously injured – them or us.”

  The prince knew if Shayne agreed to move, the other two would follow like lemmings. He pleaded putting everything into his voice, “Come on Shayne. After we’re safe, I’ll explain all of it without the circus.” He waved at the surroundings. “And I promise you won’t miss your next game with the team.” As the minutes loudly ticked, Shayne finally produced an inward smile that the prince took as a “yes.” The athlete’s only other option was to accompany Agent Huber.

  Dust barreled down the hallway. Dorothy coughed and shielded the priceless instrument. Angela also started to cough. “My asthma.” She fluttered her hands. Huber quickly realized he didn’t have the ability to detain the suspects. He had lost control of this arrest.

  The prince turned to his teacher, “Dorothy, the violin is not mine. Can you please return it to the owner? And take care of my Tourte. I’ll be back soon.”

  Appearing unmoved by these events, as if she suspected the truth all along, Dorothy Delay nodded and replied, “Please don’t worry about your bow, Hadrian. After you’ve settled your affairs - looking at Huber - call me when you return and we can get you back to your new life. You did a wonderful job today.”

  “Coming from you that means so much.” The prince felt a swell of affection for
the old lady who stood in stark contrast to his own mother’s miserly offerings. Gently, the young man squeezed Dorothy Delay’s arm and leaned forward with a dry kiss on the cheek. No one dared move.

  Huber interrupted the exchange. “Hadrian, may I please accompany you? For earth’s people that you have come to obviously love, we need to understand your full intentions.”

  Tired of this man, the prince replied, “Agent, rest assured, you will hear from me tomorrow morning. As I said, there are serious issues that I need to discuss with your leaders. I was planning on revealing myself after the competition, but you people obviously took the initiative here.” He ended the conversation with the curt nod of a prince. To his friends he urged, “Come now, we can’t hold off the U.S. government forever.”

  Shayne lurched “all right” and the other two nodded their heads like zombies. Slowly, they herded toward the open door. All of them could see the silver lift – calling them. The device ran on two tracks connecting fifty feet above the concert hall. A single security bar hemmed in all four sides.

  Outside, Shayne saw unconscious men lying about. “This was Hadrian’s work.” Although the oval spaceship made almost no noise, it still managed to blow an avalanche of debris. Wind howled through the alley like a giant’s yawn. Uncertainty followed the three earthlings. Hadrian shouted, “Don’t think. Follow me.”

  Up in the theatre’s security office, a young agent loudly interrupted the senior staff’s witness to the fictional arrest of Hadrian Capet and his friends. The officer’s sudden and dramatic appearance silenced the room. Ignoring sharp looks from his superiors, he shouted, “Excuse me, sirs and Madame Director. An alien spacecraft is hovering directly above the concert hall.” An equally young woman pushed behind him. Both were panting like retrievers.