“Now, here’s the spooky part. When I focused on what the larger one was saying, it had my voice!” Stephen said.
“No!” I say, shocked.
“Oh yes! This creature went on and on about relativity, and laws, and nature, and matter, and I got more excited. Then my view shifted and I saw a big word written on the top of the wall: ‘Physics’. That’s also right around the time I heard the smaller ones refer to the bigger one as ‘professor’.”
“What? Like a teacher?” I ask.
“Yes, I think so. A teacher…only a little smarter, I would say.” Stephen says.
I have an idea. “Wait, wait a minute. I have a crazy question for you. You keep saying creatures. The first guy I spoke with before he hopped in the tunnel and dissolved tried to explain what these creatures looked like. By any chance, have you asked the people in headquarters about what they are?”
Stephen beams with excitement. “I have! Excellent question! Two days ago, I got curious and asked that very question to the same lady you spoke to a minute ago.”
“Ouch. I’m sorry.” I say, because I can almost picture her reaction to being bothered yet again.
“Nah, don’t be. I’m over it now.” He says. “She replied back, after putting me on hold for what seemed like an eternity. She said that those were other vessels just like ours. I didn’t know what that meant so I asked her if those other vessels were citizens just like us. She said ‘not quite.’ By this point she got really annoyed with me. Then she said that ‘if I had paid any attention to the video that was shown to us on orientation day, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.’”
“What video?” I ask.
“I know! That’s what I said! I told her that I had no idea what video she was talking about, and that all we saw was a slide show with the captain. She yelled something at someone on her end of the speaker, but it was muffled. I couldn’t understand what she said. Then her voice cleared up and she said to me ‘Sir if you must know, you are part of a vessel called a human being.’”
“A human being?” I ask.
“Yep. All of those other ones I saw in my vision were human beings as well. That’s what we become. Can you imagine it? Just outside these walls, there’s a whole other world out there. Compared to humans, we may be itty bitty in size! Wait. What if there were tiny little things that are itty bitty to us? What if those much smaller things are inside of us?”
My head hurts. Stephen continues on, “There’s so much more I want to know! Thank you for talking to me, Aiden. You’ve spurred my curiosity again! You’ve given me hope and somehow broken that gloomy feeling I had. Now, I’m looking forward to getting out of here.”
Wow! That’s pretty cool. “I’m glad I could help, Stephen.” About that time, our conversation was cut short by the crackling sound of the speaker, as the ever-so-pleasant lady begins to speak. “Thank you for holding. Please state the nature of your request.”
Crap. I lost my train of thought. I stare at the buttons in front of me hoping to remember what I was going to ask her. I look at Stephen, and I’m glad I did. I see him pointing to the tunnel while looking at me with wide eyes. Ah, now I remember.
Before I start, the lady comes back on and says. “Look. If you freaky little GOC punks want to keep wasting my time like this, I’ll have the captain issue a code blue and have the whole lot of you disposed of. Do I make myself clear?”
We both answer, “Yes ma’am.” Then I say to her, “I remember what I wanted to ask.
“Yeah?” comes the reply.
“I keep hearing about the day of launch through the great tunnel. Well, I looked in there a little while ago and it seems to be a bit, uh, less than great. Why is that?” I hope this question doesn’t upset her.
“It’s to keep the vessel on course, sir.” She says plainly.
“On course? What does that mean?” That doesn’t make sense.
She huffs into the speaker and says, “If we were to keep the tunnel in launch position, we would have a hard time keeping the vessel under control.”
I still don’t understand. “I’m not sure I follow you fully.”
“How new are you citizen?”
“Today is my first day.” I’m regretting making this call now.
“Look. From what I was told this vessel has two methods of controlling its course, but only enough generative power for one to function at a time. In other words, if we allow the great tunnel to stay in launch position at all times, we practically lose control up here. We risk crashing into a lot of things. We would suffer lots of embarrassment. Worst of all, since launch becomes a top priority, we would seek out any available port and risk infecting the whole vessel. So, it is best that we maintain positive control of the tunnel down there until it is absolutely necessary.”
That sounds dangerous. I mean, if it were up to me, I wouldn’t want that to happen. Sounds like the tunnel could get ripped off or something like that. I speak up and say, “Thank you, ma’am. I believe you’ve answered my question fully, and then some. We both thank you.” I say as I look at Stephen.
She replies, “Thank you sir for calling your vessel’s headquarters. Have a nice day.” Click. She turns off the speaker.
I’m trying to picture all of this in my head. It still doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. Stephen looks at me and says, “See what I mean? She’s feisty. I usually give her a day or so before I ask her another question. I wouldn’t want her to follow through on that code blue threat.”
I just shake my head. “Yeah that wouldn’t be great at all.” Come to think of it, I would have crashed this vessel long ago if I had to handle all of the incoming questions all day long. Thankfully I’m just a GOC, and I only have one mission: figure out a way to get out of here. Of course, once I figure that out then the real mission is to find some treasure thing. Whatever.
Wait a minute. What does she mean by ‘port’?
8
Embarrassment
Everything is on fire. How did this happen? No matter which way I look, all I can see for miles are flames, smoke, and ruined buildings. People are running through the streets. Across the street, a mother clutches her infant child to her chest and darts off to the east. I follow her trail assuming two things: that she knows where she’s going and that it may lead to safety. My short stubby legs are no match for the length in her stride. She’s definitely going to out run me. I reach out my hand and open my mouth in an attempt to yell.
A loud explosion blasts from the building the lady just left, rendering any chance of my yelling useless. I drop my hand and I keep running. The lady gets to the end of the street, looks both ways, turns to her right and disappears out of my sight. I run for another ten feet before I need to slow down to catch my breath. I turn back and look at the building that went boom, and the flames are only on the third floor. That floor will soon give way and collapse to the second. Smoke is billowing out of the second story windows already. I have to keep moving. If there’s anything explosive on the first floor, that means I’m still in the blast radius and need to move quickly.
I start walking at a fast pace. That should at least give me some momentum. Sirens are going off all over the city. I can only imagine how stressed all of the emergency responders are right now. I know for one that I could never be one of those guys. I don’t like ladders. I don’t like confrontation. So, I could never put out fires, or wrestle someone to the ground only to put them in handcuffs. No thank you.
A black figure rushes past me.
I turn to see where it came from. Another black figure sticks its head out of the doorway from that lady’s building and rushes in my direction to follow its comrade. I stand frozen in fear because I don’t know who or what these things are. The second one rushes past me as well. Are they robbers? Do they go around with simply death, destruction, and mayhem on their minds? They could also be some kind of ninja that I used to see in those old timey Kung Fu movies. But, why would ninjas be in my city? That doesn’t make
any sense. Out of that same door I see four more of those same black figures come running out and rush right past me. I turn to see where they’re running, and they’re all going in the same direction as that woman with the baby. I wish I wasn’t so fat. I could have been there by now to do…something.
A loud crack from the building behind me gets my attention. Surely the building is about to come down, and I need to get out of here now. As I look, I realize it’s a different cracking sound. A very large black figure presses his way through the threshold of the doorway. His head lifts up the top of the doorframe, and the frame gives way with ease. The shoulders create craters in the corners as the figure passes through. All I can do is stand there in awe. I had no idea that ninjas were so big! The figure looks right at me and begins to come in my direction. I try to run, but my feet feel like they are nailed to the floor. Why can’t I move? A chuckle over my shoulder might be a reason and indicates a possibility for immobility. A quick glance out of my peripherals acknowledges that I am right. Two of the smaller ones remained behind, and are now behind me. The ninja giant approaches closer in a marching fashion. Let’s just call it a death march because there is no way that I am getting out of this one alive.
The figure stands before me breathing heavily. With him being so close, I am able to focus in on what he looks like amidst all the chaos. A flicker of flame from across the street illuminates my intimidator. He is solid black from head to foot. Up and down his arms are spikes that protrude from beneath the skin. His physique looks like he may have been carved out of granite, because I see no body fat whatsoever. My eyes go wide as I see his face. He has a snout like a dog, with fangs that drop below his lower jaw from his upper jaw; three on each side. There are no ears, and the eyes are very thin slits in his head with no eyelids or lashes to speak of. The same spikes appear in random order from the top of his head. Without a doubt, ugly does not do this thing justice. Hideous may be a runner up for a consolation prize.
This thing slows his breathing down and slowly opens his jaw. Black coated saliva dangles and drips from half of his fangs. He cranes his head back, takes in a deep breath, and thrusts his face forward at me and roars at me as loud as he can. The sound is deafening! I cover my ears, but that doesn’t seem to help at all because I can hear him just as clearly in my head as I can in my ears. I am panicking! What do I do? I have to get out of here! “Help!! S-s-somebody! Anyb-b-body! P-please!”
I crank my neck back, scream at the top of my lungs and I try and grab the first thing I can get my hands on. I’ve had enough of this nonsense! I reach behind my back, grab my pillow and throw it at my wall.
Wait. I stop. I’m breathing heavy. My room is dark, and I’m at home. I pause and listen…no sirens. I flop out of my bed and head over to my window. No flames. No smoke. No panicking people running for their lives. No mother running with a confused and clutched infant. And the building across the street is well intact.
It was just a nightmare. Maybe it was something I ate. I don’t know; maybe. I head back to bed, grabbing my rosary on the way, and pray several Hail Mary’s followed by five Our Father’s. What seemed like only seconds after my head hit the place where my missing pillow should have been, the alarm begins to scream at me with the most impolite of manners reminding me that I have to get ready for today’s mass.
Sigh.
I slide the one leg down that had beaten the rest of my body back to bed. With a heavy breath, I groan as the rest of my body makes its way out of bed and trudge my way over to the closet. It’s time to dress for work, and sadly the priestly garments do not include sweat pants. Oh, how I wish they did. Instead, I’m stuck with attire that makes me look fatter than I already am. If I were in charge, I would make it mandatory that all priests wear sweats. Just wake up, conduct personal hygiene for the morning, and then don their sweats. Presto! They’ve suddenly become ready for mass in a third of the time.
I look at my outfit and begin to wonder. Could I get away with wearing my sweatpants underneath? That is a brilliant idea! I am going to try it. I set everything down on my bed in a nice neat order, and I pick up my Alb first. I drape it over, and synch the buttons closed. Thankfully there are only two of those located at my right shoulder. I fear that if they had been located anywhere else, I would have had quite the struggle. I try to refrain from buttoning anything around my belly. It’s highly embarrassing. I completely understand and sympathize with King Henry VIII. I remember watching a documentary on TV about him. Apparently, as the story goes, King Henry VIII was so large in his tummy area that he made it a legal decree that jackets should only be buttoned by the middle-most button, or at the very most the bottom two. The top button should never be buttoned, ever. Well, the top one could be buttoned, but only in exchange for the bottom being unbuttoned. The reason behind this is because he himself could not button his own jacket all the way, and to save face he issued the decree. Now, it’s simply tradition. With decrees like that, I think I would have made an excellent king.
I look down to see how far down the Alb reaches. Does it reach the floor? Who am I kidding? I can’t see down that far! Mirror, mirror in the corner, how far down does my Alb go? Well, the Alb doesn’t reach the floor; therefore, no sweats underneath. What a shame. You know something; Friar Tuck didn’t have this problem! Now that’s how you dress for church! Just give me drab brown monk garments, secured with a rope. Sign me up!
At least I have new pants! Thankfully, it is one of the new pair so I don’t have to suck it in as a slide them on and pull the zipper up. I take another look in the mirror. That is much better. I grab the stole off the bed, drape it over my shoulders, and cross it in front of my chest. This thing really is just a glorified scarf, but somebody somewhere in some stupid church council decided that it was necessary to wear it. So, to avoid confrontation, I just wear it.
Lastly is the chasuble. I understand the original priestly garments that were mentioned in the book of Leviticus, but this is just silly. Granted I have been dressing up every Sunday like this now for many years, but that still does not change the fact that it’s still silly. My chasuble looks like a classroom of school girls were given liberty to see who could put the most gold crucifixes on it. Trimmed in blue, gold, and scarlet, it drapes over top of everything else. Technically, prayers are supposed to be said with each garment I put on, but I stopped saying them years ago. I felt more like a robot, or an actor reciting something for a play, than I did an actual priest.
To be quite honest, I don’t know how much more of this charade I can put up with. My garments are supposed to represent Christ in some way, but I don’t remember reading that He dressed like this. I might try to put a bug in Jeffers’ ear to see if he would be open to changing things up just a wee bit. He’ll probably yell at me, but I really don’t care anymore. I glance at the clock and see that I still have plenty of time; a full hour to be exact. It only takes me 15 minutes to get to the church, so I have no need to panic. At the same time, I also like to leave my comfy abode around this time so that I can beat the crowd in getting there. That also gives me time to prep whatever last-minute things pop up.
I make my way down to my car, and I get inside. Thankfully it’s not raining today, so there is no need for my poncho. Molding myself into the driver’s seat, I look at my radio. Hello rival. Shall we do battle again today? Actually, come to think of it, I am going to save myself the frustration and not even fool with it. Yes. That sounds like a wonderful plan. I start the car, and I make my way out of the apartment complex and onto the street. Fortunately, the smell of food has dissipated from my car entirely. I am really thankful for that, because I do not need to either have my tummy start growling during mass, or worse go into a food fit of rage of some kind. That would not end well. Today I choose to remain calm, and peaceful as to set the right example of what a priest should look like and how a priest should act.
The drive to the church is exactly as it should be for a Sunday morning. No traffic. The lights are all gre
en. The sun is shining. It is a wonderful day. Might I add as well that riding in pure silence, is a very nice treat. The church is only a handful of blocks away from home. If the day provides me with clear weather, I can see the top of the steeple from my apartment window. It’s quite the beautiful sight to behold especially first thing in the morning. I like to wake up early just so I can catch a glimpse of it before I start my day. Though, that hasn’t happened for quite some time due to the weather or whatever. When I do see it, the sun comes up from behind the church and encases it in light. The building itself becomes a silhouette as the sun beams through the stain glass windows first, then the bell tower, and finally the triple cross that sits at the top. It is absolutely magnificent! However, on account of my nightmare I had last night, I missed the opportunity to see the sunrise this morning. Sunrises are my favorite!
I reach the traffic light at which I need to make my turn, put my turn signal on, and pull to a stop at the light that has just turned to red. I am not panicked and am not in a hurry. I am making excellent time. This light should not take too long, and I can see the church from here. All is well. The light changes to a green arrow that points to the left, and I make my turn. I bounce a little in my seat, smile a little, and start humming to myself because this is such a wonderful day! I tend to hum as I bounce. As I round the turn, the church comes into full view, and Jeffers is already there. That is wonderful! Now I have time to talk to him about the wardrobe concerns. I am in such a good mood that whatever he says to me will be fine.
Fate Of The Dragon Page 10
