Sunrise Destiny

by Mark Terence Chapman

  I chuckled. “We make a fine pair, don’t we? So what happened to Scar and his goons?”

  For a moment, there was a puzzled silence. “What? You mean you really didn’t do it? I figured you must have sledgehammered them.”

  I shook my head. “The sledgehammer doesn’t work against nontelepaths, remember?”

  “But then, what happened?”

  “My question exactly.”

  I decided to see if Karsh knew. After all, we were all part of the gestalt when Shari and I passed out.

  “Of course I know what happened,” he replied after I asked the question. “Do you not remember? It was your doing, using the gestalt.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t remember anything.”

  “You said that alone you lacked the strength to sledgehammer your attackers. You asked to use the power of the gestalt to help you. We agreed and you were successful.”

  “Wow. I don’t remember that at all.”

  “Then you do not remember what else you did?”

  “There’s more?”

  “Correct. I was not pleased with your choice. However, I chose not to resist your use of the gestalt for that purpose. When there is time, I must meditate on my failings. You, however, seemed most pleased with the results.”

  Now I was completely mystified. I looked to Shari, who shrugged. “I’m afraid you’ll have to explain, Karsh,” I said.

  “There is no need for me to explain. All you have to do is look deep inside the mind of the one you call Scarpacci, much as you did with Shari when we first arrived on Lasharr.”

  I had no idea what Karsh was getting at, but I agreed to try. It proved surprisingly easy to locate Scar’s mind. I guess it was because I had already been in touch with it when I did to him whatever it was that I had done earlier.

  I found Scarpacci in a catatonic state. As I peeled back the layers of his consciousness, I surprisingly sensed fear and pain. Digging deeper, I heard crying and screaming. What the hell had I done to him?

  Finally, I reached the innermost layer, where a man’s fears played out in his nightmares. I watched a scene of brutality. Scar was bent over a bunk in a prison cell, being gang-raped repeatedly by men bigger and stronger than himself. A guard stood by, laughing and egging the prisoners on. I quickly checked Weasel and the other goon and found their conditions to be nearly identical to Scar’s. Apparently I’d created these ‘fantasy’ images to torment them. Judging by the difficulty I’d had in drawing Shari out of her catatonic state back on Lasharr, it didn’t seem likely that Scar and the others would come out of this induced state on their own, or that anyone else could “cure” them.

  I thought back to the murder of my wife, Cammie, and my daughter, Jeannie, when I was still on the force. I remembered the pain Scar’s goons had caused me in the warehouse after I’d returned Sara to Scar, and how they’d tried to drown me. Only the threl and the timely intervention of Shari and her friends had saved me. Then my thoughts returned to the scene of rape and torture of both Shari and me. We would have died then, too, had Karsh and his associates not flown all the way from Lasharr to save us, and now these bastards had had another opportunity to torture and murder us. And that didn’t count all the other evils this Mob boss and his underlings had perpetrated on the public for years and gotten away with.

  In my mind, four strikes were far more than this filth deserved. I considered the punishment I had meted out to them, punishment that would likely last for years—if not for the rest of their lives, unless I relented.

  I thought about their punishment—and smiled.

  Epilogue

  “I know we talked about naming her after your mother, Don, but I have another thought. I’d like to name her Kara, to honor both Karsh and Allara. Do you think your mother would mind?”

  I smiled at her, lying on the bed in the delivery room and positively radiating health and motherhood. It wouldn’t be long.

  “Sweetheart, I’m sure Mom is looking down on us right now, thankful that we’re alive, and safe, and about to have a beautiful baby girl. I think she’d be honored that we thought of naming the baby for her. But naming our baby to honor Karsh and Allara is a wonderful thing to do, too. I can’t see how Mom could object.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that. What about a middle name?”

  “Keldor is out. I’m not having a daughter of mine named Keldor.”

  Shari laughed. “Of course not, silly. Keldor is a boy’s name. We can save that one for next time. How about Kara Donielle, after you?”

  “Thanks for the thought, but I don’t think I’d want to saddle her with that moniker. What do you think of Kara Sharon?”

  Shari laughed. “I think we need to keep thinking….”

  I returned the laughter and we hugged. I couldn’t wait to hold that little bundle of life in my arms and know that Shari and I had created it. The gestalt brought with it great power. But no power on or off Earth equaled the power to create life.

  * * * *

  “Okay, Sharinda, now when I tell you, push with everything you’ve got. This is the last one. Are you ready?”

  Shari nodded at the doctor, sweaty and clearly exhausted. “I think I have enough for one more push. If I can help topple a government and fly across the stars, I think I can manage this.”

  I squeezed her hand and grinned like a five-year-old who’d just gotten for his birthday the cherry-red bike he’d coveted all year.

  “This is it, Sharinda. Push!” The middle-aged woman reached forward and pulled.

  Even before I saw Kara, I’d already met her. During the final pushes she awoke and announced her presence. Not with her voice, but with her mind. Before we knew what was happening, she joined us in a gestalt of three. Nothing in my life had ever thrilled or surprised me as much as that feather-light mental touch, hesitant and unformed. Kara clearly didn’t know what she was doing, but she instinctively knew the touch of her mother’s mind, just as she would soon instinctively reach for her mother’s breast. She latched onto our two minds and held the three of us together, like a child skipping along the shore while gripping both parents’ hands. There was awesome power in that tiny brain.

  Because Shari was part of the gestalt, I knew she felt it, too. Her face lit up with the realization that our not-quite-yet-born daughter was telepathic. But how could that be? Neither of us was born that way. Our DNA clearly contained the proper combinations of genes to enable our latent talent. But it had required the proper stressors and tutoring to blossom. How could Kara be born telepathic?

  At the time, it didn’t really matter to me. All that mattered was that she was alive and healthy, and all ours. Perhaps Shari’s use of telepathy and accessing the gestalt during pregnancy was all it took for the developing brain of a fetus to ‘flip the switch’ on the telepathy genes. Or perhaps it took the added stress of the beating Shari endured at the hands of Scar’s goons. I don’t know. But the fact that it happened gave me hope for the future of humanity.

  If our daughter could be born telepathic, then perhaps her children would be as well, and then others, and then still others. Soon the Sunrise lineage would be full of telepaths—with the ability to create a human gestalt, like the one the Azarti had. Perhaps one day the human gestalt would join with the Azarti gestalt and form an ubergestalt, a consciousness that spanned the universe, merging with other gestalts as they arose.

  If that was our destiny, I welcomed it with open arms.

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  Thanks for reading!

  MTC


  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Mark Terence Chapman is the author of five published novels so far: The Mars Imperative (4.3 stars on Amazon); The Tesserene Imperative (4.6 stars); the award-nominated Sunrise Destiny; the former #1 bestselling Military Sci-Fi novel on Amazon, My Other Car is a Spaceship—also available as an audiobook); and the latest, Aliens Versus Zombies; as well as a self-help book for writers, Frequently Misused / Misspelled Words and Phrases (and How to Use Them Correctly).

  His publishing credits (as Mark T. Chapman) also include a nonfiction book about the OS/2 operating system (OS/2 Power User’s Reference; 1995), a coauthored book about IBM servers (Exploring IBM Server & Storage Technology, 6th Edition, 2005), a coauthored IBM manual (IBM eServer x440 Technical Information Guide; 2001), articles about writing and investing in nanotechnology for The Motley Fool investing website (www.fool.com), plus various white papers on the subjects of Microsoft Windows, Linux, and server technology.

  To learn more about the author and his books, visit:

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  FREE CHAPTER FROM THE MARS IMPERATIVE

  If you enjoyed Sunrise Destiny, you might also like my 4.3-star rated (on Amazon) hard sci-fi thriller. Here is a sample chapter to give you a taste:

  CHAPTER 3

  Engineering Marvels: Orbital Docking Facility (ODF)—Earth’s first surface-to-orbit space elevator, ODF Nautilus—named for Jules Verne’s most famous invention—was built between 2068 and 2071. Nautilus provided the first practical method of getting cargo up to and down from the space station at a cost of mere dollars per kilo. It is tethered three hundred and forty kilometers east of French Guiana in the Atlantic Ocean, to serve the Americas.

  A total of two dozen ribbon cables were assembled over the next thirty years, as the quantity of passengers and cargo passing through the ODF multiplied. With six separate elevator cars per cable, Nautilus has 72 cars ascending and 72 cars descending during each forty-eight hour time period.

  GRAVITIC FIELD GENERATORS (GFGs) provide localized Earth-normal gravity (1.00G) on the elevator cars. Without a GFG, once a car reached geostationary orbit (approximately 35,786 km altitude), the passengers would be weightless. Beyond that altitude, centrifugal force would force the passengers outward, to the ceiling of the car. The GFG allows passengers to maintain the same orientation all the way from Earth to the ODF. Similarly, the ODFs use GFGs to control the degree and orientation of gravity as needed.

  — Excerpt from Encyclopedia Solaris, 2176

  * * * *

  James was determined not to give Murtagh any more reasons to think him a screw-up, so he arrived at Hangar Fourteen early, dressed in a jumpsuit. He’d had the forethought to ask Ms. Josephson for advice on the subject on his way out of Murtagh’s office the day before. She informed him that jumpsuits were traditional shipboard dress. That was good enough for James.

  Although he was fifteen minutes early, James wasn’t the first trainee there by far. More than a dozen men and women had beaten him to the hangar and were milling around the empty cavernous chamber. James casually eyed his fellows as several more new hires wandered in. He was surprised to find one that he recognized.

  “Daniel! What are you doing here? Didn’t you go through all this last year?”

  Daniel shook his head with a rueful smile. “I wish. Remember, I was only an intern then. They didn’t let us do anything dangerous, so there was no need for any of this. As far as they’re concerned, I’m just as much a rookie as you are. By the way, did anyone tell you that the informal name for orientation is Boot Camp?”

  Boot Camp? James didn’t like the sound of that, but he wasn’t sure he trusted this bit of data not to be one of Daniel’s pranks.

  “All right, ladies and gentlemen,” Murtagh called out, cutting short any further opportunity for discussion. He’d slipped in while James was distracted by Daniel. “Y’all form four rows of six on the marks in the middle there.” He pointed to the Xs taped to the deck in front of him. Murtagh stood facing the first row with his back to the bulkhead and his hands clasped behind him.

  As the new hires milled about, deciding where to stand, Murtagh counted. “Twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three… Okay, it’s after 0800 hours. Who’s missing?”

  “Me, sir!” A red-faced young man rushed through the door. “Sorry sir! I got lost.”

  “Cut the ‘sir’ crap, Andropov, and get in line.” He shook his head with a look of exasperation. As Andropov stood on the final X, Murtagh continued. “Physical fitness is important on an orbital docking facility or spaceship, even when equipped with Gravitic Field Generators. So we’ll begin every session with thirty minutes of calisthenics to make sure no one gets flabby.” He appeared to suppress a smile as several rookies groaned.

  “We’ll get to the more cerebral stuff later. But first,” he opened a cabinet recessed into the bulkhead and grabbed an armful of exercise slippers, “everyone put these on.”

  He waited a minute while the trainees complied. Suddenly there was steel in his voice. “Now drop and give me twenty!”

  Despite some grumbling, the new recruits did as ordered. Most had no trouble, but a couple struggled. “That’s just plain pitiful, Cosby. You too, Cappelletti. Just because you’re a woman, don’t expect me to cut you any slack.”

  He surveyed the group. “Y’all need to work on your conditioning. You’re mine for the next three weeks, and you will get in shape before you move on to your permanent positions. I promise you that! Now, turn over and give me fifty sit-ups!” The groans were more prevalent this time.

  Nobody said anything to me about calisthenics. Nonetheless, James was determined not to give Murtagh any reason to single him out for ridicule.

  Murtagh worked them through several more exercises, until all the recruits were dripping wet. “All right, children, last one. Twenty-five jumping jacks and then we’re done.” He paused for a moment as they got into position. “Ready? One!” Just as everyone leaped upward, Murtagh pressed a button on a handheld remote. A klaxon sounded, blaring BRAAAK! BRAAAK! BRAAAK! and startling the recruits. It echoed deafeningly in the enclosed space. That was the first surprise. The second was that instead of dropping back to the deck, the rookies continued soaring upward.

  What the hell? James wondered, disoriented, as his stomach lurched. His breakfast threatened to revisit.

  Why didn’t someone warn me we were going to be doing zero-gee exercises? I didn’t think I’d need a patch here in the ODF!

  James looked down at the deck receding beneath his feet. He craned his neck and saw the distant ceiling approaching rapidly. He began gyrating in midair trying to orient himself with feet facing the ceiling, to cushion the impending impact. All he succeeded in doing was to turn far enough to hit the ceiling flat on his back and knock the wind out of his lungs before rebounding and drifting slowly back toward the floor. As he drifted, he could see others in similar straits. Some appeared to be doing handstands on the ceiling. Only one was actually standing on the ceiling: Daniel Lim.

  Figures. I’ll bet he’s done this a hundred times before.

  “Pitiful, people. Just plain pitiful. If this had been an actual emergency, most of y’all would probably be dead. Lim’s the only one who might have had a chance to reach safety. Well done, Mr. Lim.” Murtagh pushed off from the floor where he had waited all this time. Shortly before reaching the ceiling, he executed a perfect flip and bent his knees to absorb the impact, landing on the ceiling as lightly as a feather. He walked over to where James was drifting and pulled him back to the ceiling, along with two others.

  “As those of y’all who landed on your feet have discovered, these slippers are slightly magnetic. Not enough to keep y’all from bouncing if you hit too hard, but sufficient to hold you in place if you land softly. Before you leave me, you will be able to do that successfully, and a lot more, or you’ll be packing to go home. These are essential survival skills, people. If
you can’t learn them you don’t belong in space. That’s all there is to it. Now, let’s see if y’all can execute a flip when you’re prepared for it. Push off!”

  James regained his feet and launched himself toward the floor high “above” him. His flip was not a thing of beauty. He landed too hard and bounced back slightly, floating a few centimeters off the floor; but at least he was upright this time. Some of the others didn’t do even that well. Several were scrabbling in midair, two were tumbling uncontrollably, and one woman, comically, was even cartwheeling across the hanger.

  “Cappelletti!” Murtagh hollered. “What in tarnation do you think you’re doing up there!”

  “I, uh—” Before she could cover her mouth, she vomited. Bile spewed outward in a crazy spiral as she continued to spin.

  At the sight, James’ stomach knotted again in sympathy.

  “Ah, Christ.” Murtagh looked skyward. “Heaven help me.” He shook his head as he launched himself in Kim Cappelletti’s direction. With amazing agility, he snagged her in mid-flight and twisted so they both were correctly oriented to land on the ceiling. Then he put an arm around her waist and leaped back toward the floor, twisting again and managing to land them both safely.

  Everyone else was within a meter of the floor when he dialed the gravity back up slowly. The rest of the rookies sank slowly to the floor and the trail of vomit splashed down nearby.

  “Now that you see the importance of zero-gee training, I trust y’all will pay close attention to your lessons.”

  He was greeted with enthusiastic nods, especially from Kim, who still looked a bit green. Murtagh tossed her a cloth that he’d pulled from somewhere. “Clean up your mess and join the rest of the group on your marks. Then we’ll continue.”