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Vision

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From OldEarth Georgios Encounter

Coming 2018…

Isle of Patmos Circa 100 AD

Georgios stood by Lysander, staring glassy-eyed and mute at the grizzly scene. How could this have happened?

Bleeding and exhausted, Rueben lay on the hard ground and peered at the man lying prostrate beside him, a man he knew he should hate. “You had a son, Armond, but death is not the end.”

Armand’s eyes fluttered as the blazing sun beat on him. “Fathers don’t kill their sons…there is no name for me.” He glanced around wildly, blindly. “Georgios…I would’ve made you mine.” Armand’s head slumped to the side, his eyes unseeing.

Georgios fell to his knees and clutched Rueben’s arm.

Rueben shuddered each labored breath, his gaze flowed over Georgios like an evening tide over the shore.

His vision blurring, Georgio pressed a ragged cloth against Rueben’s seeping wound. “No, Rueben, you shall not die! Armand deserves death but you must live. That God you believe in—He’ll help us or He’s worth nothing at all!”

Rueben sucked air into his lungs and forced his eyes open. “I’m not dead yet…but I won’t live much longer. Our days are not like pieces of gold, Georgios. We can’t horde them.”

Tears trickled down Georgios’ face. “You’re supposed to help me. I need you.”

Rueben choked on an abrupt laugh. “There is not a man on earth that I wouldn’t help…if I could.” His gaze wandered to the lifeless body. “May he rest in peace.”

Lysander stepped to Georgios’ side and peered at Rueben. He snorted. “Rest in peace? He killed that woman over there, he tried to kill you, and he tried to kill me! Who knows how many others he murdered or would have murdered if given the chance? He even killed his own son! You cannot pray for him. May his soul burn in Hades!”

Rueben’s gaze lifted to the bright sky. “But he did not make me hate him.”

Georgios turned, his eyes searched the immediate vicinity. “There’s a house around here somewhere. We’ll get help and save you, Rueben.”

“I’ll go.” Lysander turned and sprinted away.

Georgios clutched Rueben in his arms, pressing a cloth against the open wound. He closed his mind to the bodies off to the side. Like a mother rocking her child, Georgios hummed a tune his mother used to sing at bedtime.

Rueben closed his eyes.

A lump swelled in Georgios’ throat and choked off all sound, but a thought rose clear and strong.  I’ll never leave you again.

~~~

Song grieved. Her inner being shuddered at the sight before her, yet she dared to exhale the consummate loss and inhale a prayer of hope. If a young human could peer into the mystery of Providence, could not she, a being of vastly greater years and experience, trust in that which is unseen?

In her form as a native spider, she crawled around a boulder and made her way down the winding path. In a sheltered spot, she shape-shifted into a peasant girl. Plucking a wayside flower, she strolled down the hillside to the shore and waited. Her ship would not arrive until darkness enveloped the land.

Rueben’s words, “He did not make me hate him.” rang in her ears. Her entire planet had suffered from the loss of a sister planet, and now she and most of her people were exiled to the outer universe, searching for new hope among ancient worlds. Was she defeated?

Rocking on her haunches, Song twirled the fading flower in her fingers.

~~~

The eastern hemisphere lay in blackness as thick clouds covered the sliver of a moon. Before Song’s eyes, the sea bubbled and foamed in sudden action as a rounded, black form emerged from the surface just offshore. Her ship lifted dripping and glimmering in her sight. She smiled and rose.

A long mechanical arm arched from the ship and lay flat before her feet like a slave, offering obeisance before its mistress.

Song stepped forward, her bare feet tingling at the sensation of warm water and cold metal. When the door opened, a shaft of light nearly blinded her, but she continued her ascent into the interior of the ship.

Within seconds, the door closed, the arm folded, and the ship sank into the depths of the sea, only to emerge leagues away in the center of an ocean no human had yet explored.

Song slipped onto a lounge chair and folded her legs under her. A tall elven-looking male with green eyes and black, curly hair sauntered forward with a crystal glass in his hand. With a stiff bow, he passed it to Song, his grim gaze appearing to penetrate her human form.

“Everything went well?”

After sipping the honey-colored liquid, Song motioned to the seat before her. “Please, no formalities, Romtov. I’m too exhausted to play Queen today.”

Perching on the edge of a lush divan, Romtov clasped his hands in his lap. “I’d help you…if I could.”

Swinging her legs over the edge of the chair, Song righted herself and hunched forward. She laid the glass aside. “I no longer despair.”

Romtov peered intently into her eyes and waited.

She rose and stepped over to the oblong observation window. Earth’s western hemisphere glowed in the light of the sun’s rays. “There is beauty in simplicity, yet it has taken the complexity of space travel, invasion, and encountering new worlds to remind me that hope lies—not in the conquering of evil—but in the admittance of grace.”

“You’ve had a vision. I see it in your eyes.”

Song turned and a smile warmed her face. “Yes, but it will be a long time to fruition.” She tapped the window. “One day, this planet will become home to our people…home to many peoples. Humanity has no idea that we exist, but like a couple that knew nothing of each other while in the cradle but yet grew to intertwine so close as to become one—so the human race will embrace the larger universe. We shall become one. Beyond hate and despair lies hope for us all.”

Novels by A. K. Frailey

Science Fiction

Last of Her Kind  http://amzn.to/2y1HJvg

Newearth: Justine Awakens http://amzn.to/2pq0vWN

Historical Fiction

Melchior—Vengeance Is Mine http://amzn.to/2taeW2r

Coming in 2018…

OldEarth ARAM Encounter (In production)

OldEarth Ishtar Encounter (In production)

OldEarth Neb Encounter (In production)

OldEarth Georgios Encounter (In production)

Children’s Book

The Adventures of Tally-Ho http://amzn.to/2sLfcI5

Inspirational Non-Fiction

The Road Goes Ever On—A Christian Journey Through The Lord of the Rings http://amzn.to/2lWBd00

Beyond Primitive Need

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Excerpt from OldEarth Georgios Encounter

Coming in 2018…

100 AD

As they traveled the coast toward Olympia and across the sea to Syracuse, Georgios adapted to the sweep of the ship’s movement, lifting and carrying cumbersome boxes and coiling up thick, snake-like ropes that would trip his feet if he was not careful, rolling heavy tarp—things he would never have done back home. He smiled at the thought of his grandparents seeing him now. He could fold a heavy canvas better than he could have managed a blanket back home or toss a knife, hitting a post at a distance that would have amazed his own father.

A frown etched across his forehead. Perhaps his father would return unexpectedly, and they would spend the rest of their lives looking for each other. With a sigh, he surveyed his new world again, and his anxiety vanished like a mist. Surely, if his father did arrive early, he would wait at Patmos. Then, when Georgios returned, they would be reunited, and he would be a free man once again.

Seanan assured him that summer was nearly over, and they would have to hurry if they wanted to be on their way past Rome before winter. “We’ll get in and out as fast as possible.”

At this announcement, Georgios’s shoulders slumped, his gaze scraping the planks of the ship.

Seanan read faces like some read the stars. “What ails you, boy? We need everyone alert and able to make the ship’s repairs and exchange supplies in quick time. If we don’t keep our wits about us, we’ll lose more than we gain. We must keep the Roman authorities from asking too many questions or prying into our private affairs.”

Georgios glanced up. “Why would the Romans investigate us? What do we have that they’d want?”

“Don’t be a fool. If we’re not broken into during the black hours of the night, we’ll be waylaid by Roman justice and watch our things carried off by some rich merchant or a powerful senator who thinks that what is in a Roman harbor naturally belongs to them. And they have a tendency to claim much!”

Georgios shook his head. “But Roman laws apply to everyone! The Senators are supposed to defend the rights of the people.”

“Are we Roman citizens, then? Do the laws apply to us? And even if they did, could we argue the law in front of those who wrote it?” Seanan shook his head, his lips pursed. “Don’t lie to yourself. Even being the son of a Roman soldier wouldn’t protect you from the villains who gladly take advantage of those who know neither written law nor the ways of courts.”

Georgios peered across the sea as a wave lifted them high. “It looks beautiful though, doesn’t it? I’ve never seen such green hills—so many magnificent buildings. What amazing things men create when they have a mind to.”

Seanan tapped Georgios’ shoulder and pointed to the shoreline. “Don’t forget the brutes that nearly beat you to death. This is where cutthroats learn their trade!”

~~~

Planet Crestar

Crestas have long, soft bodies and tentacles, which they use to manipulate objects. Their eyes are large and watery, and they have a “brain sack” hidden behind a spiral shell. They wear a mechanical exoskeleton when out of their native element—water.

Ungle pulled himself from the murky pool and waddled over to the comfort room where an attendant waited with a warm robe. Slipping his long tentacles around the soft fabric, he clutched it to his middle and let the attendant pat his legs and feet dry.

A tinkle rang from a side room.

Ungle frowned and slapped his attendant away. “Who’s that?”

The attendant bowed his head; silence his only answer.

“No use asking a fool.” Ungle jerked himself free and lumbered into the next room. The chime rang faster, louder, and at a higher pitch. “Dark waters! I’ve got to get my ringtone adjusted—enough to set in coronary palpitations.” He sidled over to a holo-pad and tapped a wall console.

A Cresta female in a bright yellow exoskeleton and wearing heavy green eyeshadow appeared on the pad, her gaze searching. Once she sighted Ungle, she bowed in formal salute. “Superior Ungle, Mygen reporting from the Observatory Incision, orbiting planet Earth.”

One of Ungle’s tentacles swiped a dribble of water from his face. “You’re a day early—” He waved her anxious expression away. “But no matter. Better early than late.” Backing up to a soft, white chair, which looked very much like a sea sponge, he flopped down and grinned. “So tell me all the news.”

With two tentacles laced before her ample middle, Mygen stared ahead in studied concentration. “I’ve observed several sites and even come across a slave trader who seems to have adopted his most recent acquisition as natural offspring.” She frowned. “These beings have no scientific training whatsoever. They believe in everything—and nothing. They take each other apart with no hope of ever putting each other back together again.” Allowing her gaze to meet Ungle’s, her lips puckered in distaste. “Honestly, Superior, humanity is beneath our notice.”

Ungle struggled to his feet. “Ah, but that’s why you are an Inferior taking notes, while I am a Superior making the assessments. I was the very first Crestonian to visit Earth—and it was my testimony that persuaded our leaders to send out observatory crews. The Ingal Court reviews the facts every cycle, of course, but from the reports I receive, humanity has made significant scientific and cultural progress.”

He slapped the wall panel and tapped a series of codes. “Look here.” He pointed to a series of holograms: cave drawings, island dwellers, farms, a Greek ship at sea, Roman soldiers in battle formation, a senator giving a speech before a vast crowd, and Cesar Augustus upon his throne. “This depicts but a fraction of the cultures you will discover upon further study. But trust me, humanity is more intelligent than they appear.”

Mygen’s chin wiggled as she worked her jaws. “The slave I saw appeared intelligent, yet he allowed himself to be taken captive. He will surely die, like thousands of his kind, and humanity will never grow beyond their primitive need to exalt the individual.”

Ungle’s eyes twinkled as he faced the young Cresta. “How long have you been assigned to Earth?”

“The usual. Ten of their solar cycles. I have three other systems to visit before I return home.”

“Fine.” He waved a tentacle in her direction, spraying a few droplets in her direction. “Let us make a small wager. I believe that before you leave Earth, the slave you mentioned will become a free man.” Ungle chuckled. “But if you are correct and he dies, then you may return home as soon as you like.”

Mygen’s eyes narrowed. “And if he is set free?”

“Then you finish out your tour and return home to me.”

Mygen blinked. “To you? For what purpose?”

Ungle’s four tentacles flew upwards, like a child ready to catch a ball. “If I am as smart as you say, I’ll take you apart—and we’ll see if I can put you together again.”

 

Novels by A. K. Frailey

Science Fiction

Last of Her Kind  http://amzn.to/2y1HJvg

Newearth: Justine Awakens http://amzn.to/2pq0vWN

Historical Fiction

Melchior—Vengeance Is Mine http://amzn.to/2taeW2r

Coming in 2018…

OldEarth ARAM Encounter (In production)

OldEarth Ishtar Encounter (In production)

OldEarth Neb Encounter (In production)

OldEarth Georgios Encounter (In production)

Children’s Book

The Adventures of Tally-Ho http://amzn.to/2sLfcI5

Inspirational Non-Fiction

The Road Goes Ever On—A Christian Journey Through The Lord of the Rings http://amzn.to/2lWBd00

They Might Be Right

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Alessandro gulped as he watched an agonized man pass with a cross hefted on his shoulder. He tugged at his slave collar and waited patiently for the procession to pass. Golgotha was close enough that he could see the crosses already erected and two men hanging in desperate misery. Alessandro closed his eyes and prayed they would die quickly.

Someone jostled his arm, and he glanced up. A woman had run from the crowd and wiped the condemned man’s face with her veil. She sobbed as she worked. Alessandro gasped. He has seen this man, this condemned criminal, before.

Jesus.

The memory hit him like a boulder to the chest. He could smell the incense and hear the wailing of the poor widow as she took her son’s body to his burial place. Then this same man stepped forward. A few gentle words—and a miracle. The son was alive again. Grief was reborn into perfect joy. Alessandro had relived that moment every day since it had happened.

Now Alessandro watched, stunned, as the crowd followed the procession up the hill. He turned away—he had an errand to run for his master. As he stepped into the narrow, winding street, he looked back and choked. A slave from his youth, taken on a warm, spring day from his home and his family—this was his life.

When Jesus rose on the cross, he stared upon death, his eyes dry.

~~~

Months later, just when Alessandro finally thought he had put the haunting memory from his mind, he stepped into his master’s quarters and froze.

As a Roman citizen of high standing, Felix rarely lost his composure. Today, he stood hunched over his table sobbing like a child. After a moment, the elderly statesman dabbed at his eyes and glanced about.

Alessandro stood in the doorway in perfect obedience. To his confusion, his master smiled and waved him forward.

“Come—don’t be afraid.”

With firm steps, Alessandro crossed the room, his eyes fixed on his master’s face.

Felix sat on the edge of the table, his hands clasped before him. “It is not often that I lose control—but I just received a shock.”

Alessandro’s collar itched, but he dared not lift a finger.

Felix leaned in and peered into the youth’s eyes. “You see, I heard a man preaching in the street today—a Galilean named Peter. He told a marvelous tale—about a man named Jesus of Nazareth rising from the dead. Peter even healed a cripple in Jesus’ name.” His gaze wandered to the window. “Many have come to believe.”

Alessandro’s mouth had gone dry as sand.

“I saw Jesus of Nazareth once. Heard all about his miracles. I believed he was—from God.”

Alessandro’s eyes widened.

“But business pressed, and I did nothing about it. I put him out of my mind.” Felix crossed to the window and gazed over the distant hills. “I did not crucify him.” Tears started in the old Roman’s eyes. “I ignored him.” Clenching his hands together, Felix stepped over to Alessandro, pleading. “God’s son, they say—walked among us—and I—did nothing.”

Alessandro swallowed. “Even God would not condemn a man for attending to his own business.” His hands trembled at his side.

Felix’s wan smile chased his grief away. He patted Athe youth on the arm. “You were a worthy investment—I knew that when I first saw you as a boy.” Felix returned to the window. “No, I do not feel condemned. I feel—lost.”

Shaking his head and squaring his shoulders, Felix returned to business. “I have a message you must take.” He pinched a small parchment off his table and handed it to his slave.

After bowing, Allesandro turned to leave.

Felix called out. “One more question—I know you can’t answer—but I feel it must be asked.”

Alessandro paused, suddenly afraid.

“Will God—ever come again?”

Walking along the narrow street, Alessandro knew—that question would ring in his ears to the end of his days.

~~~

A sunbeam slanted across a quiet hillside where a gentle slope led to a grassy expanse, a world of Hyssop, Daffodils, Lupine, Iris and buzzing insects.

In a blink of light, two figures appeared. One grandfather figure with grey hair and a slight stoop nodded, beaming at a young man with golden brown hair, brilliant blue eyes, and the physique of a young Adonis. They were both dressed in the simple garments of common shepherds.

“Very good, Cerulean! You maintained your shape perfectly! It’s not every Luxonian who can travel as an alien species and keep their proper form. You look every inch the human boy—a little too perfect maybe—but we can adjust that. Remember, humans become either enamored or jealous at the sight of physical perfection.”

The youth nodded even while his gaze traveled the parameter of their setting. “We’re safe here?”

“Of course. I’ve had eons of experience at this sort of thing. Nothing to be afraid of.”

Cerulean clasped his hands together and waited.

A few scattered sheep crested one of the far hills. Cerulean’s eyes widened.

The old man hefted a shepherd’s staff and nudged the boy along. “Now remember, just act natural—like you have your own business to attend to and no one will bother you.”

A shepherd appeared at the top of a distant hill. He peered at them and waved.

Cerulean glanced at his father. “Teal? I believe that man is trying to get our attention.”

“Just keep walking—he’ll ignore us if we go away.”

Cerulean padded across the grassy pastureland, his gaze wandering back to the man on the hill.

Teal prodded the boy in the shoulders. “Don’t look. Never engage in eye contact unless you want to meet someone—which you never will. You’re just here to observe, take careful note of everything significant, and inform the Supreme Council of your findings when you return to Lux.”

Cerulean snuck another glance, but, as his father had predicted, the man had returned to the care of his sheep. He sighed. “We could have gone anywhere on the planet; why—?”

Teal yelped and gripped his son’s shoulder. “Stop a moment. I’ve got something caught between my toes. Panting, he cleared his foot of a trailing weed and then pointed to the blue sky. “Do you remember the story I told you and your mother about the miracle healer, heralded by the magnificent star at his birth? It was noted by every intelligent species this side of the Divide.”

Rubbing his forehead, Cerulean frowned. “As I remember, the man was murdered—by his own people.”

“True, but that wasn’t the end of the story. The people in these lands believed that he rose again and lived on in a new form.” Teal’s gaze scanned the cloudless sky. “I’ve been waiting for him to return.”

“You think he will?”

Teal sighed. “Three generations have passed. I have little hope left. But they say that he lives in the hearts of believers. I have even heard that he comes as food for—”

“Food?” Cerulean’s eyebrows rose.

“Not in human form—but as bread.” Teal shrugged. “It’s hard to explain.”

“Despite your official reports, humans sound rather barbaric.”

Teal chuckled. “Beware, humans grow on you. They’re surprising—they have unexpected strength, and they believe in miracles.”

Cerulean glanced at the crest of the hill where the shepherd reappeared with a young boy at his side. “I wonder what they believe.”

“You will be a guardian soon enough, and experience is the greatest teacher. Just remember—” He nudged his son forward.

Cerulean plodded along, his gaze focused on the crest of another hill. “What?”

“They might be right.”

 

Novels by A. K. Frailey

Science Fiction

Last of Her Kind  http://amzn.to/2y1HJvg

Newearth: Justine Awakens http://amzn.to/2pq0vWN

Historical Fiction

Melchior—Vengeance Is Mine http://amzn.to/2taeW2r

Coming in 2018…

OldEarth ARAM Encounter (In production)

OldEarth Ishtar Encounter (In production)

OldEarth Neb Encounter (In production)

OldEarth Georgios Encounter (In production)

Children’s Book

The Adventures of Tally-Ho http://amzn.to/2sLfcI5

Inspirational Non-Fiction

The Road Goes Ever On—A Christian Journey Through The Lord of the Rings http://amzn.to/2lWBd00

Live

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Planet Earth

Daud leaned upon his shepherd’s staff and tipped back his head. A brilliant star lit the night sky in a thousand points of light. Heart pounding exuberance flushed his face as he stared at this new, unfathomable mystery. His brother, Hikmat, teased him unmercifully whenever he stuttered his thoughts aloud. So, he rarely spoke at all. Fortunately, his young son admired the night sky as much as he did, and they could sit in companionable silence for hours, watching the stars come out one by one, listening to the soft tinkles of bells and the bleating of sheep grazing upon the hillside.

When his brother and son trudged up the hill, his smile died and reformed into a frown. Their expressions and rapid footsteps bespoke the need for haste and—

Daud jogged forward and intercepted them. “What’s wrong?”

His son flew into his arms and hugged him around the waist, squeezing him in a fit of joy—or terror—Daud could not say. He grasped the child’s arm and stared through the star-filled light into his son’s eyes. “What’s happened?”

“Oh, Father, the most wonderful thing—angles appeared—from the sky. They gave us news.” His son swung an outstretched hand from the star to a cave in a distant hillside and began to tug his father’s arm. “Come—see!”

“See?” Daud glanced up at Hikmat who had stopped before him, staring at the same cave. “See what?”

With slow reluctance, Hikmat pulled his gaze away and appeared to see his brother for the first time. “Daud, you won’t believe me—but the sky was filled with beings, singing and joyous. They announced—the Savior—the Christ is born.”

Daud jerked back, his skin prickling. This was not his brother—there was no hint of Hikmat’s teasing tone or his haughty expression.

“Come, Father. Let us see the babe!” The child ran ahead like a colt that can’t be tethered.

Daud started after him and then glanced back; his voice rose high and strained. “Babe? What babe?”

In the bright night, the undulating movements of many forms froze his voice. A strangled gasp issued from a deep well of terror. Shepherds and folk from leagues around followed the nimble trails leading to that same simple cave, moving as one—at the command of a force Daud could not name.

Like a man rousing from a trance, Hikmat started trotting forward and waved his brother along with a shout. “Come—see!”

~~~

Planet Ingilium

Bergen stepped away from a compact space shuttle, blinked in the bright glare of the Ingoti sun, and winced at the geometrically perfect city. He rubbed his exposed neck, leaving an irritated red mark. Even when his girlfriend, Yangon, embraced him, his expression refused to soften.

Yangon wrapped her flexible, armored arm around his and tugged him along the broad city walkway. “Long trip?”

Bergen nodded as he tromped along at her side.

Waving to a tall Ingoti beauty crossing the intersection congested with pedestrians, air scooters, and low-level fliers, Yangon sneered and hugged Bergen’s arm tighter. “Lee’s been asking about you—bragging wretch. Just because she’s traveled to distant galaxies. Like that’s so special.” Yangon glanced at Bergen.

Bergen’s fixed gaze had not wavered a millimeter, though he tugged at his chest armor as if a new appliance irritated him.

“You must be worn down. I’ve got a nutritious meal planned and then—” Rubbing her hand on his arm, she purred. “Well, trust me, the second course will be even better than the first.”

~~~

A stack of metal plates, cups, and cutlery rotated through a wash cycle, as Yangon pulled Bergen to a wide, luxurious couch.

He flopped down with a groan.

She pounced. First, she climbed onto his lap and nibbled his exposed neck. Then she reached—

Bergen stood up and dropped her unceremoniously to the ground. A perplexed frown etched across his forehead. “You ever wonder why we bother? We don’t need to eat meals like that. And as for—” He rubbed his neck where she had kissed him and shrugged. “We don’t need that either.”

Yangon’s flushed face tightened. “You never complained about my cooking before—or my—”

“I’m not complaining—just wondering. Why are we—trapped?” He clawed at his chest armor.

Yangon stifled a gasp and stumbled to the kitchenette, leaning heavily against the counter. “You’ve found someone else.” With a shudder, she dropped her gaze.

“What? No! I mean, not exactly.”

Yangon’s head jerked up. She glared at Bergen. “Not exactly? Who—?”

Pulling off his mechanical gloves and unplugging the wrist connectors, Bergen retreated to the couch and perched on the edge. He tapped his emaciated, pale fingers together and peered at the Ingot before him.

Disgust played on Yangon’s lips as she stared at his raw hands.

“May I tell you a story?”

Yangon grimaced and slid onto a stool, flexing her mechanical hands over the smooth metal surface. “Whatever.”

Bergen stood and paced the white-walled, rectangular room. “Humans are very primitive. I went there to take notes and write an assessment—the usual.”

Yangon tapped the datapad embedded in her right arm, scowling.

“But something happened.” Halting in mid-step, Bergen’s gaze retreated into a memory. “I saw a baby born.”

Yangon’s lip curled as she rubbed a spot off her breastplate. “Disgusting creatures—giving birth to live young. It’s one reason we’re so much—”

Bergen blinked. “The baby spoke to me—somehow. His nakedness—his frailty—his sheer honesty—” He staggered.

Her eyes grew into rounded, horrified orbs. “You exposed yourself?”

With a wave, Bergen thrust the accusation away. “No. I stayed on the ship. I sent a bot and hid it on one of the animals. But I saw everything. The mother, the father, the birth. The baby’s eyes opened, and—for an instant—he looked at me.” Bergen swallowed. “He spoke.”

“By the Divide, what could an alien infant possibly say?”

“Live.” Bergen flopped down on the couch. “I want to live—feel hunger, thirst—desire—love.” He leaned back and clasped his hand over his eyes.

Yangon rose and glared at the Ingot in front of her. “You’ve caught some off-world disease, and now you’re out of sync.” Her lips pursed in disdain. “You’d better see a specialist.” Sudden alarm spread over her face. She ran to an alcove and slapped a wall panel. “You better not have given me anything—” She rubbed herself all over as an intense light radiated across her body and a disinfectant spray enveloped her.

Bergen shook his head as he climbed to his feet. “I’m not sick. Or out of sync. I’ve just realized—I’m hardly alive.” He started for the door.

Keeping her distance, Yangon stared after him. “Where’re you going?”

Passing the window, he pointed to the black, star-filled sky. “I’m going back.”

Yangon snorted. “You can’t live like a primitive, Ingot. Technology is wired into your very being.”

Bergen shrugged. “The Crestas are experimenting on our nursery rejects—maybe they can help me.”

Yangon’s lip rose in a snarl. “They’ll more likely kill you.”

“Long as I care—I’ll live.”

 

Novels by A. K. Frailey

Science Fiction

Last of Her Kind  http://amzn.to/2y1HJvg

Newearth: Justine Awakens http://amzn.to/2pq0vWN

Historical Fiction

Melchior—Vengeance Is Mine http://amzn.to/2taeW2r

Coming in 2018…

OldEarth ARAM Encounter (In production)

OldEarth Ishtar Encounter (In production)

OldEarth Neb Encounter (In production)

OldEarth Georgios Encounter (In production)

Children’s Book

The Adventures of Tally-Ho http://amzn.to/2sLfcI5

Inspirational Non-Fiction

The Road Goes Ever On—A Christian Journey Through The Lord of the Rings http://amzn.to/2lWBd00

Good Fortune

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Amazon Link: Newearth Justine Awakens

Chapter Four

Clare sailed across the street, scrolling through her datapad.

Her smile faded. Mrs. Lane Hoggsworth had been found dead in her home late last night, Day 73, Year 53 Newearth reckoning. Clare’s brows furrowed in irritation. If the woman had been more important, Human Services would have pulled in a high-profile investigator, but as it stood, she was only important to her family, and they didn’t have much money or influence. After all, the deplorably dark saying, “It’s only a human,” held sway in a world where humans were the minority and considered, by some, to rate only slightly above their wildlife counterparts—like snakes and eagles.

She checked the time and her scowl deepened. If Bala showed up late for his first big assignment, there’d be trouble. She wasn’t going to blow this case, not for him and his sil- ly-fool addiction to hearth and home. Not that she minded his family-ties mindset. Everyone had a right to an obsession. She planned to build a safe house in the wilderness someday. She had even saved up for flying lessons. But with each new case, she realized there was no escaping Newearth reality. Not even on an island.

Clare rounded the corner and ducked into The Breakfast Nook, nearly colliding with Bala’s skinny frame. “You’re late!”

“Am not!” Bala held up his datapad and smirked. “Thirty seconds to go.” He tapped his finger on his wrist screen, his copper-colored face breaking into a wide smile. “Good thing I have a timer, or I might’ve been. You should have seen Kendra jump when the alarm went off. I set it so loud the whole street could hear it.”

Clare shook her head and waved him through the door. “It amazes me that you manage to keep your head attached. Some folks don’t take kindly to loud noises. How about if—”

A seven-foot Ingot hostess with thick bio-armor and leathery skin ushered them to a booth in the back.

“—A Bhuac took offence? You know how irritable they get with high-pitched sounds. One could have slipped over and picked off half of your family.”

Bala grimaced. “You’re always exaggerating! It so happens that we do have a shape-shifter down the way, but we’ve been on very good terms ever since I saved one of their pod-thingys from submersion. How it got in the gutter—don’t even ask— but I was in the right place at the right time and, you know, as secretive as they can be, they really do have a deep capacity for gratitude.”

“Oh, please!” Clare looked up at the impatient hostess. “Coffee, strong as you can make it while still keeping it liquid, a honey-grain bar, large energizer salad, and fruit of the day.”

The hostess turned her full black-eyed glare upon Bala who was perusing the menu as if he hadn’t memorized it long ago. “Coffee, cream, toast and…some bacon and eggs.”

The hostess lunged. She gripped Bala’s heavy plaid shirt and hauled his whole body into the air, leaving Clare stunned into gasping silence.

With arms flailing helplessly, Bala had just enough air to beg. “Just a joke! Really. Kidding. I didn’t mean anything…seriously. Let me down. Please?”

The hostess dropped him and shook her datapad in his face. Her techno-organic armor glistened a reddish-purple as her breathing helm hissed. “You want to order, then order. No sick jokes. Eggs and bacon! What next? You think it’s funny to talk like that, but there are some who wouldn’t mind eating you!”

Bala rubbed his neck and sniffed in a long cleansing breath. “You’re right, it was stupid of me. Really…quite insensitive. I’d just been reading some Oldearth novels, you know. Fiction? Stories? Anyway, they made everything sound so delicious— Sorry! I didn’t mean that. I just—”

Clare’s glare could have melted a polar cap. “Would you order before you get us both killed?”

“Coffee, chocolate pudding, and a raisin-nut bar, extra-large.”

The hostess pounded away, huffing.

“You are such an idiot sometimes, you know that? What was I thinking when I hired you?”

Bala’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “Oh, you were thanking God above that I’m going to save you from the hideous fate of trying to solve all of humanity’s problems single-handedly. It is funny how we don’t recognize our good fortune when it’s staring right at us.” Bala’s grin practically engulfed his face.

Slapping her hand on the table, Clare leaned in and hissed, “Good fortune? It was pity, pure and simple. I couldn’t let that lovely wife of yours and your brood of—how many is it now—six? Six helpless humanoids suffer from the sad fate of having you as the head of provisions.”

Bala turned his less-than-symmetrical face aside to display his profile. “At least I’m as handsome as a Greek god, you’ve gotta give me that.”

The hostess returned and slammed down two mugs of steaming coffee, slopping a little on Bala’s hand.

Bala slipped his hand into his lap with a stifled “Ooo-ahh,” looking every which way but at the hostess.

Clare nodded her appreciation and waited till the hostess stomped off.

“As I was saying, we have a job to do. Mrs. Hoggsworth didn’t blow a hole through herself. Her husband is nearly suicidal and her son wants revenge. Neither of them has much money, but the son has connections to the Michigan territories. I’ve got my eye on a little spot over there. If we can work out a deal, I might be able to find a place for my island getaway, and you might get a little stretch in the woodlands on the northern coast. It’d be away from the usual madness, and you could raise your clan in relative safety.” Clare clapped her hand on her forehead. “So long as you don’t go around ordering bacon and eggs.”

Bala leaned in, returning her earlier hiss. “Listen, there are those of us who believe that meat and eggs are not off the menu. There’s nothing wrong with a bit of animal flesh, so long as it isn’t from one of the sentient beings.”

“Tell that to one of the Race Relation Councilors, and you’ll find yourself in treatment, boy-o.”

Novels by A. K. Frailey

Science Fiction

Last of Her Kind  http://amzn.to/2y1HJvg

Newearth: Justine Awakens  http://amzn.to/2pq0vWN

Historical Fiction

Melchior—Vengeance Is Mine http://amzn.to/2taeW2r

Coming in 2018…

OldEarth ARAM Encounter (In production)

OldEarth Ishtar Encounter (In production)

OldEarth Neb Encounter (In production)

OldEarth Georgios Encounter (In production)

Children’s Book

The Adventures of Tally-Ho http://amzn.to/2sLfcI5

Inspirational Non-Fiction

The Road Goes Ever On—A Christian Journey Through The Lord of the Rings

http://amzn.to/2lWBd00

For One Purpose

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Amazon Link Newearth Justine Awakens

CHAPTER TWO

Slowly, deliberately, a light scalpel moved over cold flesh. “Tell me, do you fear death?” Mitholie, a brilliant Cresta renowned throughout the interplanetary scientific community, fixed his companion with a hard gaze as they stood in the bright-lit Crestar laboratory.

Taug, an up-and-coming apprentice, let a tentacle drift through the warm salt water of his bio-suit. His large, golden, watery eyes gazed coolly at the specimen lying suspended in the examination tube. “No. Why should I fear a void?” His eyes slowly rose to meet the elder’s scrutiny.

“Well—” Sensitive tentacles curled about the delicate equipment as Mitholie’s green eyes returned to the subject of their examination. “—your sociological profile says you…dislike death.” The light scalpel cut deeper, revealing bone. Mitholie’s mouth orifice lit up with a pleased smile.

Taug moved his bio-suit slightly nearer, bending over the examination tube. His eyes, lit by the dim, icy-blue lighting, flickered over the specimen. “I don’t fear death. I see it as a waste.”

“A waste?”

“Yes. I calculate waste on how hard it is to retrieve lost data.” Taug sucked in water letting it drift slowly over his gills. “A brain sack once destroyed is gone, forever beyond our reach.”

Mitholie scanned each of the specimen’s organs carefully, individually. “But what if I no longer need that mind?”

“It’s hard to tell when and how something might be useful, or even worse, necessary.”

“You have an…intriguing mind.” Mitholie turned a lump of flesh in his tentacles.

Taug watched intently. “Beyond that, there is practical reality. I’m neither a trained soldier nor an assassin.” He gestured with waving tentacles, “Like you, science is my passion.”

“Your father’s pet project has been identified—alive.” Mitholie’s eyes remained fixed on his work, ignoring Taug.

Taug slowly exhaled water. “I would say that was impossible, but I know the High Tribunal must be certain or else you wouldn’t have told me.” His mouth orifice remained in a fixed smile. “Is this a favor? Am I being offered a chance to commit suicide before the messy business of torture, trial, and execution?”

Mitholie spasmed, his long body wiggling with glee, “No such dramatics, no.” His tentacles released the delicate equipment; he looked Taug in the eye. “The High Tribunal simply wishes you to…purge your father’s unfortunate experiment. That done, I’m sure this messy business can be consigned to the dark waters.”

Taug’s tentacles curled thoughtfully. “Forgotten?”

“And forgiven.”

“I’ll need its location.”

With a flick of a tentacle to his bio-suit, Mitholie effected a transaction. “I’m transferring the data now. By the way, hiring another Cresta to kill it is…unadvised. The High Tribunal wishes the waves of the ‘humons’ to be kept tranquil, at least for now. Besides, you have contacts? Yes?”

Taug’s eyes moved swiftly, scanning the long streams of data crossing before his eyes. “Yes….”

Mitholie laid down his knife and stepped back. “Very good. I’ll go with you to the harbor dock.”

Taug stepped aside. “Thank you.”

Together they moved down the sterile, rounded, white hallway, deep in secretive conversation. Plugging their bio-suits into the wall jacks, they shed them, and came out on the other side of the wall free, gliding through dark water.

The human specimen floated in the examination tube, alone.

I am offering a free review copy of Newearth—Justine Awakens to my faithful blog followers. If you are interested in a review copy, please email me at akfrailey@yahoo.com, and I’ll send one to your email address.

Novels by A. K. Frailey

Science Fiction

Last of Her Kind  http://amzn.to/2y1HJvg

Newearth: Justine Awakens http://amzn.to/2pq0vWN

Historical Fiction

OldEarth ARAM Encounter (In production)

OldEarth Ishtar Encounter (In production)

OldEarth Neb Encounter (In production)

OldEarth Georgios Encounter (In production)

Melchior—Vengeance Is Mine http://amzn.to/2taeW2r

Children’s Book

The Adventures of Tally-Ho http://amzn.to/2sLfcI5

Inspirational Non-Fiction

The Road Goes Ever On—A Christian Journey Through The Lord of the Rings http://amzn.to/2lWBd00

All My Sins Remembered

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I’m offering a free review copy of Newearth: Justine Awakens to my faithful blog followers. So if you’d like a free review copy, please email me at akfrailey@yahoo.com, and I’ll send one to your email address.

Blessings!

Ann

CHAPTER ONE

“We have definite…” The Luxonian Supreme Judge in a trim human form and dressed in a dark blue robe, stirred in her seat, “…proof that you assassinated well over a hundred and fifty beings on the troop transport called…” She glanced down at a datapad, “…the Generous Sharon.” She fixed her black-eyed gaze on the lone figure standing on the floating dock with narrowed eyes.

Well over fifty delegates had gathered at Bothmal Criminal Court and sat on comfortable chairs, each tailored for a particular species. Every sentient race on the Inter-Alien Alliance Committee, including Ingots, Uanyi, Crestas, Luxonians, Bhuacs, and humans had at least one representative in attendance. No race wanted to be absent from this trial. Hundreds more sat in the court’s upper wings, savoring the spectacle while millions watched the unfolding drama on holoscreens.

The figure standing silently at the center of this hurricane of watchful emotion was a biomechanical hybrid, an android built in female form, in this case, human. Long black hair fell like a cascading waterfall down her back; her blue eyes stared straight ahead, peering into shadows. Massive cuffs, secured with powerful magnets and chains, were locked tightly about her wrists and ankles.

The android moved slightly, shifting her weight from one leg to the other. An expectant hush settled over the assembly. The silvery rattle and clanking of chains broke the quiet.

“Well?” The Supreme Judge leaned forward in her chair, fixing the prisoner with narrowed eyes and lowered brows.

“Yes.” The word was a sigh, not of regret, but of weariness or boredom. “Yes, I killed them.” She glanced up at the massive holoscreen hovering over the assembly. On its curved surface, the security recordings from the Generous Sharon played on a constant loop. “My guilt is…pretty obvious. There’s no point denying it.” A small smile curved at the corners of her lips.

Cerulean shifted to the edge of his seat and coughed lightly into his hand. “If I may ask, why?”

Pondering a moment, the android straightened. “They were in my way.” Her musical, almost bell-like voice would have been lost in the echoing chamber if not for the amplifiers.

“Justine, correct?” Cerulean folded his hands into his long robes, leaning forward.

“That is my name.”

“It was necessary, you say. Did you feel no…revulsion? Pity? Empathy? How could it be necessary to end the lives of over a hundred beings?”

Justine placed her shackled hands on the dock’s rails. “You work in this hall. Did you ask the building permission to occupy it? What its feelings were?”

Two delegates, a Cresta and a human, spoke at once.
“So, you compare yourself to an inanimate object?”
“Are you suggesting that you, as an android, cannot be sentient?” The human representative’s fingers nervously played with a datapad.

Cerulean raised his hand. “Justine, I’ve read the reports, your psychological profile.” He cocked his head. “You’ve made jokes, noted ironies—shown a full range of emotions. Are you suggesting that, like an inanimate object, you can’t feel or rather, that you had no choice?”

Justine looked at the human, turning slightly. “The Inter-Alien Commission declared that it is impossible for a robot to be sentient. That is your belief. I say nothing about my own.” She fastened her cold, blue eyes on the Cresta. “I am the product of fetal tissue and a computer. How much choice do I have?” Her lips curved mockingly.

 

Novels by A. K. Frailey

Science Fiction

Last of Her Kind  http://amzn.to/2y1HJvg

Newearth Justine Awakens http://amzn.to/2pq0vWN

Historical Fiction

OldEarth ARAM Encounter (In production)

OldEarth Ishtar Encounter (In production)

OldEarth Neb Encounter (In production)

OldEarth Georgios Encounter (In production)

Melchior—Vengeance Is Mine http://amzn.to/2taeW2r

Children’s Book

The Adventures of Tally-Ho http://amzn.to/2sLfcI5

Inspirational Non-Fiction

The Road Goes Ever On—A Christian Journey Through The Lord of the Rings http://amzn.to/2lWBd00