Admiral's Ghost

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Admiral's Ghost Page 5

by NB VanYoos


  * * * *

  Tyler hung motionless above the paramedics as they pulled a limp body from the ambulance. Like in a dream, the paramedics silently pushed the gurney through doors into the hospital emergency room. Tyler had never been to an emergency room, but it looked similar to those he’d seen on television.

  He stared curiously at the lifeless body on the gurney. Was that his body? He looked closely and saw his own face beneath the oxygen mask. It was a strange and disorienting feeling. He was a balloon attached to his body. He saw what was happening but was disconnected from all his other senses.

  Everything was silent as paramedics wheeled him into a room with blue-clad people scrambling wildly. From Tyler’s perspective, the uniformed people moved in random patterns, but apparently they had purpose. To save me, he thought.

  What an odd thought. His body was inert as they stripped him and prodded him while attaching equipment. They yelled to each other across his dying body, and he could see their mouths move, but everything remained silent.

  Like some twisted dream sequence in a movie, he watched the horrifying story of his survival unfold. It was disturbing yet compelling. He silently cheered the doctors, urging them to restore his life.

  Am I dying or already dead? The question drifted through his awareness as disconnected as he felt. He struggled to remember what had happened, but his thoughts were random fragments like someone else’s memories. He remembered a job, or transaction but couldn’t recall details.

  Perhaps that was it! The transaction had gone badly, and he’d been killed in a gunfight. Somehow that didn’t seem right, especially when you noted the lack of blood. Drugs! That was more likely. His lifestyle had finally destroyed him. Was it a heart attack, liver failure, or a stroke? They were all possibilities. He felt a pang of regret about not knowing what had killed him.

  A fresh flurry of activity drew his attention to the scene below. They worked feverishly on his body and finally brought out electric paddles used to resuscitate heart attack victims. This is it, he thought mildly, the end.

  He watched helpless as charges surged through his body, over and over again. But it wasn’t working. The Doctor rubbed the paddles one last time and stepped towards the body. He applied the shock, but this time, something happened.

  An arc of electricity shot from Tyler’s body, knocking the Doctor to the floor. A flurry of arcs flew through the room, shocking people and equipment. Tyler was fascinated as he watched his body arch and convulse in the electrifying fury surrounding him. Everyone froze in horror, gripped by fear until the arcing stopped. This was obviously something new.

  Tyler’s body writhed as it shifted and separated into myriad pieces before coalescing once again. It was a powerful sight, and everyone remained motionless. Again and again, his body disintegrated before pulling back together. Each time, the pieces moved further apart, failing to re-integrate as they moved further from the bed. Tyler couldn’t understand what he was seeing. Nothing like this had been on television.

  With a final burst of energy ripping across the room, the last remnants of Tyler’s body vanished into the air. At that same moment, he felt something pull his awareness. Fear seized him as he was yanked from the hospital. He watched in horror as the hospital, the city, and finally the planet dwindled to mere dots in his awareness.

  His speed accelerated as he shot through the darkness of space far from Earth and the life he’d known. Stars and planets rushed past at speeds he couldn’t imagine. The effect was surreal, like fields passing by a car window. The blurred passage was silent.

  Finally, the stars receded into a swirling clump. To Tyler, it looked like a picture of a galaxy he’d seen on the science channel. It turned slowly below him as he came to an abrupt stop.

  Suddenly, the silence was broken by a deep voice. Tyler caught only bits and pieces but didn’t recognize the words. Confusion and fear gripped him like a vice. He knew he was dead, but where were the pearly gates or pits of fire? This wasn’t what he imagined death would be, although he had to admit, he’d almost never thought about such things.

  And how had he died? Could a body simply disintegrate into nothingness? Surely that was not normal? What had happened? Where was he?

  The voice kept speaking, and Tyler tried to listen to what it said. If only it would stop fading in and out!

  Did he just hear “okem may juknn”? What does that mean? The voice grew louder and he desperately focused to understand anything.

  “More radnij QeQulum, awn solfra deidem manyfre...”

  He knew something was wrong, it wasn’t making sense. What was it saying? Panic threatened to overwhelm him as he struggled to understand his predicament. Was this hell? Maybe it was Satan talking?

  He’d never believed in religion, but now seriously considered it. He caught a word. Did he hear “you cannot…”? He tried to calm down and focus. Whatever it was, it repeated itself.

  “…solfra deidem forbidden worlds. You cannot vergi innuay or okem may any life whalk soo nieta. More will tymin juknn being that xid lodem et blasmous.”

  He listened patiently as it spoke over and over, and after each repetition, he could make out new words. Finally, everything fell into place, and he understood the booming voice.

  “I am QeQulum, and these are forbidden worlds. You may not enter them or interact with any life therein. I will remove any being that does not heed these warnings.”

  The voice continued its chant, but Tyler didn’t understand what it meant. The translation was more confusing than before he could understand it. At least he didn’t think it was Satan. If he understood it correctly, the speaker was QeQulum. Tyler had never heard that name, either for Satan or God.

  Maybe this was a god from a different religion few knew about. Maybe no one on Earth knew about it? Wouldn’t that would take the cake, he thought. He remembered television evangelists and wondered where their God was. Unfortunately, these thoughts didn’t bring comfort.

  He felt a growing sensation, like he was floating on water. It was like being an oil slick spread over great distances. He followed the feeling, and sensed individual pieces, drifting aimlessly yet a part of him. Mentally pulling on each piece, he tried to pull them together, but nothing happened.

  He focused harder, but still nothing. The distraction was welcomed despite its futility. He tried one last time. Did I feel movement? He wasn’t certain, but it was like something had moved.

  He pulled once more, and again felt movement. His spirits lifted with the newfound success. It became a quest—a quest to regain the pieces of his being. To regain what he thought of as Tyler.

  Finally, his efforts paid off as the pieces coalesced into a single entity. The sheer number of parts was daunting. He willed them to integrate into a whole, and they shifted and moved toward some center that he hoped was him. He coaxed them further, and as if released from some grip, they rushed together.

  Unfortunately, the successful movement was paired with a burning pain ripping through his awareness. The galaxy blurred into colorful lights as the pain was replaced with darkness.

 

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