Tears slid, slow at first.
I miss my home, my life.
Then they cycled into racking sobs.
Mac. Mac. I miss you, Mac.
After some time, hard to tell how long, some comfort began to accumulate inside. Or at least some of the misery leaked out with the tears. A corner of the top sheet came in handy for drying eyes and face.
A stray thought flitted through, “How were we making jumps with the wormhole pilot dead?” Despite all the weighty subjects, at some point, sleep must have happened.
Chapter 27
A bell woke up Alexa. Soon afterward, she realized that instead of a warning it was one of the usual ones communicating with the staff. When she tentatively opened the pod’s door, the air in the room smelled as usual. Voices from the cabin next door were detectable, also the high-pitched whine of a cart-bot as it whizzed down the corridor. The so-normal sound in the pipes of a flushed toilet rebounded through the room.
With that, nature began requiring her attention. She could not face using Donny’s bathroom. Warnings of more jumps or no, she would venture into the corridor to her own room to use her own facilities.
At the door a key laid on the floor, must have been slipped underneath. She picked it up and waited outside the door to allow passage for a yellow cart-bot wheeling by. Judging by the items on the cart, perhaps it was on a mission to dole out cleaning supplies to the butler bots in various cabins.
“Excuse me,” she asked, “are more jumps still possible?”
“No, Madam. The alert was lifted three-point-four-two hours ago.”
Alexa thanked the bot, asked for sheets to replace those on Donny’s bed and dashed in to allow the butler bot out of the bathroom. On the way to her room, she noticed the Do Not Disturb light glowed on Rachel’s door, as well as an indicator on the cubby beside the door requesting a food tray to be carried away.
Food would be nice.
When Alexa tried the key on her repaired door, it worked. Big relief, her space lacked one orange cart-bot. On the other hand, the room and bed were in a complete shambles, beyond the state when she’d left. Trying to make sense of it all, she noticed a folded note in the middle of the bed. It read, “Not certain what happened here. At least I could arrange to have your door repaired. Pearson”
No mention of the cart-bot. Who or what searched every square inch of my cabin?
As Alexa showered and dressed, she tried to figure out her attachment to Mac and how it could exist with the emotions inspired by Pearson. There was no denying a certain rush when she laid eyes on the note. Newcastle aside, she was also attracted to Pearson. Hard not to be, when a handsome man keeps coming to your rescue and takes care of you in such a conscientious manner.
How to blend the fact of Pearson-as-robot with the undeniable experience of him? His touch had been warm and pliant, not at all similar to when the cart-bot snatched her from the pod. But a robot is a machine, right? At home, would she ever feel this way about, say, her car, or a smart phone or a computer dressed up in a human suit? Then? Never. But now, evidently yes.
No real answer being available, she opted for what she could understand—straightening up the room. She moved this item here, that piece of clothing there, and shifted piles. Slowly, carefully she decreased the chaos around her. Interestingly, in the process of establishing order a feeling of watching herself began to grow, an awareness of each moment of each action.
Physical movements flowed, tiny sounds reverberated in her chest, sheets were acutely smooth, her hairbrush prickly, and the one remaining stuffed animal silken. This experience was not a totally new occurrence for her, considering it had almost been the norm in her early teens.
She’d asked about it then and Brahmaji explained the perception as a peep into expanded states of consciousness. Sometimes it may have been a continuation of the sweet silence of meditation. Other times it was a disconcerting expansion of emptiness. The second type seemed to dominate at the moment.
Half an hour later as she entered the dining room, she was almost bowled over by how packed it was, the boisterous noise from her fellow passengers.
The maître d’ robot found it a challenge to locate a place for her. At a table far off to the side one chair remained, since the others were crowded around nearby tables. As she settled she heard snippets about how each person experienced the scare. The word “pirate” came up, as well as remarks about the view of Sirius being as never seen before.
Something else not seen before, at least for her, the extent of how separate she felt from everything around her. Ordering food seemed to take place at a distance. Her eyes perused the menu, her finger pointed, and her voice thanked the servitor when the food arrived. Her mouth tasted the food and her nose smelled the aromas of everything around her. She was fully present and nowhere else, though also uninvolved.
As Alexa observed her mouth chomping on the latest bite, Mrs. Holmes-Fong entered the dining room. The woman, looking not much improved, eased herself into a seat at a table that must include acquaintances because they all greeted her.
Corky crept in. At first he seemed afraid someone would accost him. When it didn’t happen he relaxed and began searching for a place to sit. Their eyes didn’t exactly meet, though he certainly noticed her, then went immobile and pelted from the area.
Shortly, Pearson strolled in. He’d abandoned the bushy black hair and fake teeth, reverting to the Adalans space station look of a green jumpsuit and shoulder-length straight brown hair now pulled back into a single braid. No insignia indicated his status as a captain.
It wasn’t her intellect reacting to the sight of him, because she’d never seen her Mac look just so. More it was a gut reaction, a longing for Mac so intense that Alexa had to turn her mind away from it or begin to cry on the spot. Perhaps the draw to Pearson was due to the similarities.
That line of logic was interrupted by a raucous yell from the other side of the room. A man at the head of a large table including a family and children stood up and began waving both arms. It was Pearson’s attention the man wanted to attract. He insisted Pearson come over to their table.
Just about everyone there stood up to shake hands or kiss Pearson on the cheek. A little girl about three years old reached out to be held by him. When he took her, the girl cupped his face in her small hands and gave him a big smack of a kiss on the nose. He laughed out loud and jostled her up and down. She seemed to love it. Her mother reached for her and the little girl allowed herself to be transferred to her home arms. Space was made for a chair for Pearson at the head of the table beside the man. Someone gave him a plate piled high and he took a mouthful before nodding his head in agreement to a comment from someone sitting down the table. He eats?
Alexa looked down at her own plate and realized it was bare. Amazing how separate she felt from all the people around her. She left the dining room unseen and unremarked. With nothing else requiring her attention she opted to tour the View Gallery, to find out what everyone was excited about regarding the star Sirius.
One side of the gallery divulged a panorama of the solar system, including light brighter than the noonday sun, with a bluish tinge. Sirius, twice as massive as Sol and more than twenty times brighter, beamed off to the right. Far to the left, its companion star, a white dwarf, was barely identifiable.
Alexa slowed her steps at the middle of the gallery where benches offered a seat with a view. Inside herself, the hush expanded to a roar.
Donny said the star’s name was connected to Shiva. From a college course on world cultures, she remembered Shiva to be one of the Hindu gods, termed by the professor as an “expression of nature.” Shiva was all about silence. That seemed to fit her current situation. More than silence, the professor said Shiva was also the one that destroyed or transformed.
With the last thought, all pretense of reality inside her fell away.
Emptiness bloomed in her consciousness, as the bud of a black rose. Infinity, terrible and cold, spread
through her being. The awareness seemed to connect to the blue light all around. It was within her and of her. The hall remained for its human inhabitants warm and hospitable, a contrast making the emptiness inside her that much more devastating.
In years past Alexa had heard of this, considered a blast of pure, primordial consciousness. She’d wondered then if the witnessing after meditation when she was younger was the same. However, the vast abyss currently comprising her Self utterly eclipsed the earlier intimate comfort.
Alexa sat, immersed in this new depth of stillness. Inner perceptions teeter-tottered from starkness to intense bliss. People came and went. Sirius remained constant, to the right of center in the picture window.
A thought arose in her head about once in ten minutes, a comment on some new aspect as it waxed and waned. One of the mental bubbles was about noticing how the crystal next to her heart became almost hot. It had never changed temperature before. Because it was a source of warmth in the midst of the coldness of her awareness, she welcomed it.
After awhile Rachel and Donny entered the gallery and stood at the window, gazing at the star. They perched at the edge closest to the entrance, Rachel right up to the railing and Donny standing behind her with his arms wrapped around. As Alexa watched, Rachel leaned her head onto Donny’s chest and he bent to kiss her cheek.
Rachel turned in his arms and brought out from a pocket her funny pen. She took his hand and wrote on the back of it. This was not uncommon, Rachel writing on her beloved’s hand, her name complete with flourishes and hearts. She handed the pen to Donny who dutifully also branded her as his. This change between her two friends felt right. And it had absolutely nothing to do with her.
She felt irretrievable. Would she ever again be part of the world? It did not matter. I Am, stable and solid, as ancient vacuum.
Some time passed as Alexa watched inside herself. She had no idea of how she appeared to others. A clue presented itself, when a man walked into her line of vision and smiled at her, gently inquiring with his facial features if she was all right.
Sheik Farooqui had been at the conference on Adalans. Hard to judge age these days. If he’d been in her own time, with his white hair and beard, she’d think him in his mid-80s. Still standing straight, he probably moved slower than as a younger man. Those brown eyes continued to take in everything around him, both actual and implied.
Alexa returned his smile and said, “We met on Adalans, didn’t we?” When he gestured toward an empty bench nearby, she agreed. After he settled, she asked, “I trust the recent drama treated you kindly?”
He nodded slowly. “Yes, we were well protected. And you are well? You are almost shining, yet you appeared sad when I first saw you.”
Alexa smiled her embarrassment. “I didn’t realize my face is a billboard.” He seemed confused. She clarified, “I exhibit my emotions so publicly.”
He chuckled quietly. “No need to be concerned. I am certain that to others you simply appear peaceful.”
“You headed up the Sufi contingent on Adalans, correct?”
“Yes. My group will return home. I have a further meeting on Earth and I was able to obtain passage on this luxurious cruiser.” His eyes were smiling.
Alexa’s late aunt always said a person whose eyes smile along with the rest of his face is a candidate for trust.
He spoke. “Do I remember that you were asking about the feasibility of traveling in time? A fascinating concept to be thinking about in a practical manner. Did your search locate a viable method?”
“Perhaps so.” She was unwilling even with this good man to divulge much information. “We are on a quest to verify.”
Sharing silence, the two gazed at Sirius for a bit.
Alexa began talking without realizing she intended to. “I wonder if your faith has an insight into an internal perception, something in consciousness? I have heard of Sufi mysticism, though I admit to not much knowledge.”
“It is possible. Can it be described?”
“You might think it sounds weird.”
“I have lived long. Not much would astonish me.” He did look wise.
“Well, I have a friend, who is finding an internal state to be,” Alexa searched for the best words, “a cross between bleak and blissful.” She watched him to see how he reacted.
“Oh. Yes. Such a divergence could be rather unsettling.”
“I, my friend, experiences deep silence inside. In fact beyond that, to possible vacuum. Even while eyes perceive and the mouth speaks.”
He sat for a moment, pondering. “Yes. Such states may be quite strange at first. But if from God, they may result in true knowledge.”
“Is there anything in Sufism, or Islam, relating to this? The closest I would know from Christianity is, ‘The Kingdom of Heaven is within.’”
“That, in itself, is a wonderful statement,” the man said. “How about this, from the Quran.
“My servant draws near to Me, until I Love him,
I Become the eye with which he sees,
the ear with which he hears,
the mouth with which he speaks,
the hands with which he feels,
the feet with which he walks.”
Alexa allowed a flowing sense of awe at how these simple words fit. Her smile spread as her eyes shut. They sat quietly together, soaking up the wisdom.
It was not long before a young man approached the sheik and explained, with great deference, that the imam was needed at a meeting.
“Excuse me, Miss.” The sheik was obviously searching his memory for her name.
“Alden. Alexa Jane Alden.”
“Miss Alden. This is my assistant and it is his responsibility to make sure I am where I should be. I do not want to complicate his mission.” His voice took on extra warmth. “I think your friend will do fine, because such incidents generally come to those who have been prepared for them.” He smiled as he rose.
“Thank you for your kindness, sir. I know my friend will deeply appreciate your insight.” She watched him walk away with his assistant. At least someone who should know verified I probably am not crazy.
Chapter 28
After some time the episode waned, as had happened before in her teens. The states of consciousness that continue through the thick and thin of daily life are stable and real. Until that time, they come and go. Even such a view of stark infinity as this.
What arose were sure-fire markers of her normal, day-to-day consciousness: total engagement in the task at hand, feeling the hardness of the bench under her behind, wandering mind. Bingo. A conversation between two men became fascinating.
Right after a robot wheeled through to announce that passengers would soon arrive to exercise their animals, the men passed by Alexa on their way to the window. The young one spoke to his older companion. “Every time I’ve come through here after the jumps since the attack, it’s been this view of Sirius.”
They were son and father, judging by their similarities. “I thought we were trying to transit to our next destination,” the father replied. “We shouldn’t be jumping many times around any star, no matter the pretty view.”
“Seems to me we’re kind of stuck, though no one is saying that.”
For Alexa, something Callaghan said about the crystals in Scotland long ago surfaced in her mind. “The wee one appeared insignificant, though it was a great honor to protect it. Because the Dog Ear would always take the holder to the auld Dog, the Crystal Ceres.”
“Ah,” she breathed. Could it be that her Dog Ear tracked to the nearest Ceres? And Ceres was somehow related to Sirius? The ramifications of the thought did a fine job of erasing all the expanded consciousness from earlier. If the crystal could track, could it take them back in time? Probably not, since that had not happened. She wondered where the big Ceres might be in the current century. Or if it still existed.
Since so few people used the door at the far side of the gallery, she noticed whenever it opened. This time when it squeal
ed, Edith stuck her head and torso into the gallery and well-nigh glared at Sirius. Why would she have such a strong opinion about this star?
Then Pearson appeared behind Edith, and also slightly entered the room to peek around her, studying the star. Pearson whispered and the older woman nodded. He backed out of the gallery, followed by Edith. Before the door closed, Alexa noticed that she turned to follow Pearson to the right. Toward the green door with a sign declaring it to be for Staff Only.
Alexa had to know: How and when did Pearson and Edith become this friendly? It took no time to reach the Staff Only door. Peering into the corridor she caught the last movement of the door at the end, the one to the Jump Room.
But hours ago she had almost landed in jail for breaking such security.
Alexa launched herself down the corridor. At the door she stood, a little girl admonished not to touch the candy jar. She strained to hear. A masculine laugh from within cinched it. She pushed on the door and peeped around, barely enough to see inside. There was Pearson standing behind a seated Edith, reaching his arms around her.
“Pearson, you are so fast,” said Edith.
Alexa’s intake of breath was more audible than she intended.
Edith noticed her first. “Alexa! How did you get in here?”
Alexa pushed into the room a bit further. “I, uh, was in the Gallery and, uh, saw the two of you.” She put one foot into the room, fumbling on. “I wondered what was going on.” Pearson glanced at Alexa during her humiliating response then faced to above his hands, which were right in front of Edith.
The woman said, not unkindly, “Dear, this is probably not the best place for you.” Pearson must have said something because she looked at him and whispered, “Do you think so?” He nodded and she relented. “Yes then, come in. Please lock the door behind you.” When Alexa reached the desk Edith asked, “Have you seen how fast Captain Pearson can type? It’s super human.”
Seeking Sirius Page 16
