The Best of Deep Magic- Anthology One

by Jeff Wheeler

  “Since when is a square-wheeled bicycle ‘genius wordsmithing’?” What Grandfather said about only being able to communicate with a conscious mind rang true. I was also pretty sure that only willing participants could neurolink. You could not force a connection if a person did not want it. At least I thought that was true.

  “Harumph.”

  “You said the word, ‘Harumph,’ Grandfather. You’re supposed to just make the sound.” My laugh still sounded like chittering in my mind.

  “Very well, Levi. We might as well continue through the protocols before I make any more mistakes.” Grandfather’s tone said he was not offended. “First, however, are you someplace safe and comfortable?”

  I had almost forgotten I was on alien terra, and surrounded by new wonders. The viscous atmosphere seemed to sway a little around me. I was glad my feet were anchored so I would not be swept away, but even more relieved when I tested and found I could move them. The landscape was lush with formations of purples, lavenders, reds and salmons. I could not tell if it was flora or some other form of biota. The thickness of the atmosphere limited visibility, but I felt as though I was in a beautiful cave, with no apparent threat of harm nearby. I chose a dense pinkish-red formation and sat, finding it squishy, but firm enough to support me. “I’m comfortable now, and see no sign of danger.”

  “That’s good. Research indicated you should not face hostiles, but research from this distance is not always as accurate as we would like.”

  “How long was my transport? My mind is very fuzzy about my travel.”

  “Ah, protocols, Levi. Let me go through the questions to assess your recovery. Then, we can cover your questions.”

  “How was the question game you played on me earlier part of the protocols?” I protested in jest, hoping my tone translated through the neurolink.

  “I will humor you by reviewing the first two protocols. One, establish connection with subject and confirm subject is aware of who he and his contact are. Two, using familiar words or phrases, bring up a memory that will comfort the subject. Really, Levi, I am very pleased with how quickly you are recovering.”

  “Well, I don’t want to be the gnat thinking he’s a mosquito.” Yet another of Grandfather’s phrases. I was not particularly troubled that I could not think of what that phrase actually meant. I suspected with my full faculties intact, I would still be at a loss for that one, but it seemed to be an appropriate thing to say to Grandfather.

  He chuckled. “I should think not. Progress, I tell you. You’ll be back to your old self in no time.”

  The light in the vicinity darkened slightly as the atmosphere thickened. I tried to locate the source of light to determine why it was growing darker by the minute, but failed. I was considering whether it was some sort of ambient light when a dull humming grew louder and changed into sounds that resembled language. “Hold on, Grandfather. Something is changing around me.”

  “Are you safe where you are? If not, move on.” Concern quavered his words.

  I yearned to hear the language, but it was like the muffled sounds of speaking under water. Then, movement caught my attention. At first, I caught only glimpses, like the shadow of a cloud, but then I saw an actual form. I felt the numb thrill of discovery tempered with the terror of facing an alien in its world alone. It was small, which was only a minor comfort. It was the size of a large rabbit, which also happened to be the size of a wolverine. Other than sharing the same size, this creature was in no other way similar to a furry mammal. A shiny, slick coating of silver and amber gleamed from an internal light within the thing. It had neither limbs nor head, but seemed to move with purpose by some unseen method of propulsion. The sound of language returned, but I could not tell if it originated in the creature or elsewhere. Direction of sound was difficult to distinguish. Of course, that might be because my brain was still spinning like a gyroscope.

  “Levi?!” Grandfather’s voice was frantic. “What is happening?”

  “I’m not alone, but I believe I am safe.” The lack of fangs and claws was definitely comforting.

  “Do not engage it. Get to a safe place so we can coordinate. You are not ready for contact yet.” Grandfather’s voice was a forced calm – the kind of tone a parent used when a young child strayed too near a river’s edge.

  I checked for my gear, to secure a weapon or other protective device, not knowing what I had. I discovered I had nothing. Aside from a hard suit, that somehow allowed movement, I possessed no gear. “Grandfather, can you tell me why I have no gear, or does that question have to wait until after your blasted protocols, too?”

  “Retreat to a safe place and we will get through your questions and the protocols. You have all the gear you need, even if it is not with you immediately. I will guide you to your base of operations very shortly. Please get to a safe place.”

  If it was not for Grandfather’s concern, I would have felt almost comfortable with this little alien. The small creature seemed to have a level of intelligence that was intriguing. If it was capable of communication, I needed to know and find some way to assure it that I was not a threat. The last thing I wanted was to provoke it into acting rashly, or gathering the other proverbial villagers with pitchforks to deal with me. I decided Grandfather was right about gaining my wits and regrouping before engaging. If I had a base of operations to find, that would be a far better place to gather my answers and acclimatize. I made the universal, well Earthly, sign of peaceful assurance by raising both hands and speaking calmly to the shiny, little thing, “I mean you no harm.”

  Honestly, I was a split second away from promising that I came in peace when the cliché choked in my throat. The words I spoke sounded garbled to my ears. I worried that my brain might have the effects of a stroke that would allow thoughts to flow more freely than my motor skills could handle. The fact that I actually spoke or attempted to speak Earth-based English and expected my words to be recognized caused me even more concern. Grandfather was definitely right about retreating.

  I stood and took several steps back, cautiously placing each foot to make sure I had the coordination and dexterity to move without falling. I was successful. The formations around me loomed taller and thicker the further I moved back. I felt like I was retreating to the depths of a cave. The shiny thing followed. I saw more movement behind it, and other, similar forms followed us in. At least they did not have pitchforks. The rumble of what I perceived as language grew louder. It did not sound threatening, but neither did a hunter’s soothing tone sound threatening right up to the instant he pulled the trigger.

  “Levi? What is happening?”

  “I’m pulling back and searching for a safe place to communicate. I don’t think these things mean to harm me, but I’m being careful.”

  “Let me know when you are secure.”

  That was when my back reached the wall of the cave, and I found myself between two large formations that felt firm to the touch. I gripped the sides, thinking I might try to climb up, or launch myself out if the aliens got too close. I thought I could jump over them, but I decided that would be a last resort. I had never been much of a jumper – realizing that felt good in the sense that I was remembering more, but bad in the sense that my limited physical skills left me with fewer options.

  The creatures came closer, moving at a slow, but steady pace. There were at least five of them, all bobbing along toward me, perhaps fifteen feet away. They were now close enough for me to see how they moved. The shiny surfaces were covered by hundreds or thousands of little hair-like appendages that moved each creature along like a millipede in the shape of a globby duffle bag.

  Subconsciously, I pushed my back against the wall. I expected it to feel hard as rock, but it was more the texture and firmness of cheese. It was not lost on me that much of this planet was reminding me of food. No doubt the long transport to this world was accomplished in a form of stasis that deprived my body of real food for a long time. I still had no memory of the trip, but if I was
in stasis, that would not be surprising. Cheese, I could work with. The wall was soft enough that I could push into it. I thrust my arm in, and was pleased that my hand reached through the thick resistance into an opening beyond.

  The creatures were almost upon me as I took a deep breath and pushed into the wall. As soon as I took it, I realized the deep breath was pointless as my suit had a breathing function built in that would allow me to survive on the new terra until a safe atmosphere could be established in the base. Although my conscious mind did not recall the mechanics of my suit, my logical brain knew it had to be true. I pressed into the wall. At once, I was enveloped in darkness with a tinge of maroon. Perhaps it was the pressure of the walls threatening to burst the vessels in my eyes that made me see maroon, because a moment later, I was through the solid barrier and found myself on a far brighter landscape.

  I looked down, and located what I hoped was the ground many hundreds of feet below. I clung to branches of strange plants secured to a vertical wall that was otherwise smooth. I longed to find memory of climbing skills in my brain, but suspected I would find little there. Fortunately, the trees seemed to offer an easy route down, as long as my arms or grip did not give out before I reached the bottom. The air was thinner and brighter in this area. Better yet, the strange creatures seemed to be stopped in the cave. I kept an eye on the wall next to me and saw that it had sealed back upon itself – nothing else came through.

  As I began a cautious descent, I reached out via neurolink. “Grandfather?”

  “Levi!” His voice dripped with genuine concern. “Are you safe?”

  “Yes. I am now. For a moment there, I was feeling about as safe as a termite in a pocket watch.” Another Grandfather phrase, but one that sparked a real memory. I knew that pocket watches were all antiques, but recalled Grandfather talking about having one as a child. I struggled to remember how old he was, but could not place it.

  “Well, I’m glad you are past that now. Have you hunkered down somewhere?”

  “Not yet, but I have good visibility and no threats are nearby. Grandfather, can I ask you an odd question?”

  “I suspect you will whether I allow it or not. How about we make a deal – you get your odd question and then we continue with the protocols?”

  “Agreed.” My foot nearly slipped as I lost focus on my climb. I had already realized the branches were wet in some places, which led me to wonder about rain or other climate issues I might encounter. “How old are you, Grandfather?”

  “Older than a Neanderthal’s uncle.” The old man chuckled.

  I groaned at his less than funny deflection.

  “I suppose if I want real answers from you, I should give you the truth, rather than wit.” I opted not to correct his mischaracterization, which I am sure he paused to allow. Grandfather continued, “224 years. Next year, I will be nine quarters of a century old.”

  I chuckled at that. “Well, when you say it that way…” Yet, realizing his age helped put more of my mind puzzle together. I knew people had not lived that long since the fabled ages in the Old Testament. At least, they had not lived that long until genetic science uncovered the key to slow the aging elements of the human genetic code.

  “Alright, wise anus, we had a deal. Back to the protocols. What is your last memory prior to awakening?”

  I realized I did not have a clear recollection of events in transport, or even immediately prior to leaving Earth. More troubling than that was the cloudiness of the memories I had of preparing for this mission. It was like pulling out of a deep sleep and immediately trying to recall which memories were dream and which were real. Only, I had been awake long enough that I should be able to tell the difference. “I’m struggling with that one.”

  “Don’t fret, Levi. Let me help you. Do you recall anything about your ship?”

  “No.”

  “That’s fine. Do you recall anything about your squadron or commanding officer?”

  I searched for memories and panicked when I could find none. Again, a foot slipped, and my body dangled in the air for a moment before I found another foothold. I was surprised my arms were not yet weary, and my grip felt strong. “No, I recall none of them.”

  “Very well. Let me move on to the fourth protocol and we can come back to this later. What do you recall about the reasons for interplanetary exploration?”

  This question created a tickle in my mind that was frustratingly out of reach. Some of the blurriness was dense, while other parts were tantalizingly out of reach. “I feel like this is a question about which I should be able to write volumes.”

  Grandfather chuckled again. “A thumbnail sketch of history may clear this up for you. More than a century and a half ago after the threat of nuclear war was neutralized, the civilized nations and educated people of the world feared two things: global warming and depletion of resources. Near that time, American scientists cracked the genetic code more fully than had been done before, laying bare the flaws of humanity: disease, illness, deformity, and aging. Brilliant minds from around the world found solutions to these problems, and people began living longer and healthier. My father lived to be 152, and my generation has the hope of living far longer than that. Yours may live without limits of time.”

  Every word rang true. Memories came together like the pieces of an exploded building in a movie when the video was played in reverse. The holes of my memory began filling and I was thrilled to remember more. Realization struck me that I was 162 years old myself, though my aging had effectively stopped when I was in my twenties.

  Grandfather continued. “Well, the governments of the world realized the Earth is far more resilient than expected. The planet regulated itself to the point where global warming was no longer a primary concern. That left the issues of resource depletion and overpopulation as the last global crises. More and more people occupied the planet because of longevity and optimized health. Even with renewable energy, maximized crop production, and animal cloning, there was simply not enough space to house and feed 94 billion people.”

  Light filled other dark corridors of my brain. I recalled studying complex systems as it related to the Earth and how the planet made adjustments in flora, weather patterns, and tectonic shifts to accommodate the issue of global warming. In effect, through millions of biological, geological and geographical adjustments, the Earth healed itself. I remembered reading dozens of studies in this field when I was in college at the American Science Institute. But I remembered more than just reading them. “Grandfather, I wrote a doctoral thesis on complex biological systems as it related to changes in the Earth in the mid twenty-first century, didn’t I?”

  “Trust the protocols, Levi. Yes, you did. Not only a thesis, but a collection of articles and studies that were peer reviewed, published and canonized. Is everything coming back to you, then?” Grandfather’s tone was hopeful.

  “I feel like a leaf on a branch being asked if the tree is done growing yet. I don’t know if I’m a sapling or a mature oak, yet, Grandfather. But, at least I know I’m a leaf… or a scientist.” That realization left me with a greater concern. “What went wrong in our transport or landing that one of the scientists in the exploration party was separated from the rest of the squadron? You mentioned something about helping me find my base and the equipment I would need.”

  Hope diminished in his voice. “That is a serious concern. I also mentioned that I don’t have as much information about your landing as I would like. My team is searching for the answers you seek, and I will help you.”

  “You don’t know what happened to the rest of the party, do you?” My stomach knotted and my mind began to race. “These protocols you’re following are the ones designed to keep me calm and occupy my mind while you and your team try to figure out what to do, aren’t they?” I felt sick at accusing my own grandfather of deceiving me, but I also realized my mind was not yet able to function properly and the danger I faced was likely dire.

  “Slow down, Levi. I can feel
your mind begin to panic through the neurolink. I am confident that you will be okay, and that together we will get you to your team. I can also assure you that the protocols were designed to help you put your head back together after the long period of stasis you experienced. Keeping calm is part of the process, but only because it will help you regain yourself.”

  “What if the damage to my brain is irreversible?” My doubts calmed but a little.

  “One more promise, then I would like to continue the protocols. I can assure you that the technology that put you where you are was designed by the brightest people who have ever lived. There is empirical data to prove that. When you undertook this adventure, you were thinking clearly and trusted the science behind your mission.”

  My breathing steadied. Logic was the tether to safety, and I felt more anchored. “Alright, let’s continue.” As soon as the thought was out, the footing on the branches beneath me gave way. I slipped and found myself falling. I reached. I flailed. My body dropped, and picked up speed as it bounced off several other branches. I expected to be scraped, or break a limb, but the suit protected me. My mind latched onto the reality that the drop was going to end soon, and with a very quick stop. I grasped and felt branches go by. I focused on a larger tree below that seemed sturdy enough to catch me. I had to move myself to my right. I timed a kick and pushed hard against a branch on my left and made enough contact to change the course of my fall. I expected the branches to snap, or at least knock the wind out of me. My vision darkened as the branches held, and my deceleration halted quickly, but the branches also had enough give to sway down and flex before swinging back up to their original position. My lack of death was a welcome surprise.

  “Dear Lord! What happened? Are you alright?” Grandfather asked.

  Panting more from anxiety than anything else, I caught my breath before responding and then remembered what an idiot I was. Neurolink communication did not require breath. “I just took a shortcut to the bottom of the cliff. But, I think I am whole. I cannot believe I didn’t break a bone.”