Preview: New Chapter 3

                Altair Grus was just finishing his first day on the job at with the Mendel’s space agency. His job description was pretty simple—all he had to do was stand guard outside the elevator on Mendel’s floor, four thousand feet below the Earth’s surface, and don’t let anyone but Mendel and his technicians through the door. Occasionally, there would be visiting dignitaries or other authorized officials, but Grus just could not see the point of securing an elevator lobby inside a secured facility, especially since there were already three levels of security to get to the elevator lobby on the ground floor level. It was going to be a boring job full of long days of, well, nothing.

                The secured facility was inside a fenced compound situated about thirty miles from the nearest town. Grus had been interviewed at a coffee shop in that town, by a man who came heavily armed and driving an old and non-descript car. He wondered if this interview was even legitimate, and that fear was reinforced when he went to the address on the business card he got from the interviewer. He drove the thirty miles out into the desert, and when he got there, there was only a chain link fence. It was padlocked, and posted with several government-type signs giving various “enter at your own risk” statements, and other veiled warnings about staying off the premises. He waited for five or ten minutes. He wasn’t sure whether to just sit there, or turn around and go home. He checked his wristwatch, and when he looked up and looked back through the chain link fence, he saw what looked like a cloud of dust swiftly approaching him from somewhere behind the fence.

                When the dust settled, a round vehicle appeared before him. There were no wheels that he could see, and he couldn’t remember seeing any tracks of any kind.

“Is that a hovercraft?”

The driver or pilot or whatever he was called didn’t respond to the question. He walked calmly to the gate, removed the padlock, and spoke to Grus.

“Pull your car inside the fence and pull up next to the transport.”

“The transport? What is that thing?” Grus made another attempt at finding out what the vehicle was, but again, got no response.

“Move your vehicle now, please. We’re on a very tight schedule.”

“Okay, I’ll move it already.”

Grus moved his car next to the “transport” and got out. The man climbed into the transport from the top center through what looked like a manhole cover, and simply motioned to Grus with a hand out of the hole to climb in after him. He couldn’t see how to climb on top, and struggled to get on top. Finally, the man emerged half way from the transport and offered a hand to Grus, and pulled him up, and they were both inside. The top sealed behind them. Grus couldn’t believe what he saw. The top of the transport sealed by fading to black with a final burst of bright white light much like when you turned off a really old television set and the image recedes into darkness with a burst of residual radiation.

Preview: New Chapter 2

          It was noon the day after Mendel had stayed late at work with Charlie going over his team’s discovery. Mendel was about to reach for the lunch he’d hurriedly thrown together on his way out the door, but the morning’s events were racing through his mind. He couldn’t tell his wife what was bothering him; he came to the same conclusion he always came to. I’m going to call Vela. I have to tell someone about what’s going on, and my brother is the only one I can talk to that understands what I’m dealing with, AND has the security clearance to hear what I’ve got to say.
          Vela Omichron, Mendel’s brother had volunteered to be one of the first off-world colonists from Earth. The government offered to provide the colonists with everything they would ever need during their lifetime in exchange for their services as pioneers on other worlds, and preservers of the human race. While money would be of no value to early colonists, the money they earned as colonists accumulated throughout their lifetimes, and upon their deaths, the money was divided equally among designated beneficiaries who were also colonists. This “salary” of sorts would continue through the third generation until the colonies had become cities with economies of scale and trade with other worlds begun.

Preview: New Chapter One

          It was around six o’clock in the evening when Mendel found himself looking out the window of his office, watching the sun go down from behind his desk instead of from the living room in his home. His faint reflection glared back at him from the shiny surface, showing his medium length jet-black hair, prominent nose, and square cheek bones. His office was not lavish, but was well appointed with all of the things a very good physicist would need. So, all he really had in his office was a desk, his chair, sofa, and a cabinet about five feet wide and eight feet tall with a myriad of electronic gadgetry neatly organized inside. His gaze returned to his office walls which were, of course, covered in dry-erase board which themselves were covered with a lacework of equations, molecular diagrams, and multi-colored fingerprints and smudges where markings had been erased unsuccessfully. 

          Mendel turned his gaze back to marking on the wall he had been previously examining, and when he couldn’t regain concentration momentarily, he turned his neck to the right to look out his window again. He knew the sunset he was looking at was not real, but was a computer generated recreation of what was actually happening four thousand feet above his head on the surface. He hated the feeling of being locked deep underground in his own personal mausoleum that his agency called an office. He understood the need for security, as his interstellar travel research would be highly prized by any government or private organization looking to find a way to move between colonized planets faster than the three years that was the current norm between neighboring planets. He once again tried to turn his mind back to his work, this time by turning his head back towards the holo-display on the desk. After a few moments, when something didn’t seem to make sense, he noticed that there was a portion of the hologram missing. Mendel reached out in front of him and cleared the notepad from the corner of the projection area allowing the image to refresh and fully display. Ah. Now that’s better.

A New Approach

I decided I need a little motivation to keep moving things along. So, every week or two, I'm going to post the first one or two paragraphs from each chapter of The Mendel Chronicles.

Writing is...

...so much harder than I had imagined. OK. Not the act of actually putting pen to paper (I mean finger to keyboard) so much as finding the time to actually perform the act itself.

I have a new found appreciation for those of my acquaintances and friends who write, edit, revise, and publish their works either by themselves or in conjunction with a publisher.

That being said, I haven't forgotten the project; rather, I've had much going on lately, and not so much time to dedicate to my story line.

There will be an end. Somewhere. I just don't know where right now.

Lessons Learned

I think I might have finally learned the lesson that my college Computer Science professor was trying to teach. His mantra was

"Design, Design, Design!"

He proposed to us that an elegant design leads to an elegant solution, and a much easier time of implementing the solution. After "hacking out a solution" to the problem of what to write, I realized that I was trying to maintain story elements that had no bearing on the core plot. I also realized that the core plot didn't need to reveal all the details in the first few chapters, but cohesiveness could be gained throughout the book, by spreading details through the entirety of the text.

To make a long story short (not the book--just this post), I wrote an outline, and I've begun re-writing the book. I backtracked to what happened before the present text begins, and I'll integrate the existing text as necessary to complete my book.

I feel like this is going to be a much longer journey than I expected when I started.

Strike that... Reverse it!

I came to a realization a few days ago, partially as a result of the feedback I've received to date--precious little I might add-- and my own approach to the edge of the proverbial cliff of Writer's Block.

In no way do I feel like the story line is complete. I know I have more to write; however, I've been trying to maintain a few "precious" ideas as core to the story, when they clearly interrupt the reader's attention with the question of how they might possibly have any bearing on the outcome of the plot.

That being said,  I've stopped writing the actual text, and have taken to compiling an outline. I'm also going to let go of a few of "my precioussssssss" and focus on three core ideas or concepts that will be integrated to make Mendel's journey interesting.

1. Near-instantaneous Interstellar Travel: I plan to rework this to eliminate much of the technical details and expand on the broader concepts to better integrate with Mendel's individual character traits and adventures.
   
2. Genetic Longevity: I plan to expand on this idea, again eliminating much of the technical jargon in favor of integrating it into the character traits of both Cassie and Vela to make it important to their traits and adventures to the extent it integrates with Mendel's adventures.
   
3. Medical Technologies: A key component of many science fiction endeavors, advanced medical care lends a sense of "fiction" to the story that takes the reader on the adventure, and causes them to invoke their imaginations to visualize what the author is speaking of. I'm going to keep Mendel's suit as part of his person.

I also would like to briefly incorporate a few smaller, non-invasive concepts on an ad hoc basis to enhance Mendel's search for answers. One such idea is indexing.Here's something you might interesting: Handbook of Indexing Techniques: A Guide for Beginning Indexers. Strictly speaking, indexing that I am referencing is the process of extracting vital statistics from old records that have not been digitized in a format that is searchable by computers.

Grandpa Thompson has been indexing records in this manner for many years, and my wife and I recently got involved when our Stake Indexing Coordinator taught a class on it for the third hour of church. Indexing can be done by members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints or those who are not members. Anyone can do it! Just go to Family Search Indexing and follow the simple instructions to sign up, learn the basic steps to indexing, and get started.

My wife and I have been indexing for seven days now, and between the two of us, we've indexed nearly 2,000 records from several dozen batches of old images, including WWII (here is an EXCELLENT book) draft records, and 1930 Federal Census records. Indexing these records provides key information to computer search engines to use when a user of sites like Family Search and Ancestry searches for information about their ancestors. Put in a name like John Doe, and now, these sites can display the draft records or Federal census sheets where John was recorded. BINGO!

By the way, THIS is a flipping awesome show!! Check it out!

Anyway, tah, for now! I'll be back soon with an updated manuscript as I rework The Mendel Chronicles in a way that I think will be sure to please readers.

I'd like your feedback on whether or not you're interested in actually reading the text or not.

Drop me a line, and let me know what you think. I'd appreciate it.

Chapter 6: Reunion

           Vela opened the door to his sparsely furnished apartment on the third floor of the security building. He took a step inside, paused for a moment to wave a hand over the activation panel to turn on the lights and air system, and continued on a few steps. When he didn't hear Mendel's steps behind him he turned around and looked over his shoulder to look at Mendel.

           “You coming in?” Vela asked.

           “Uh...yeah. It just feels weird to be walking back into your life like this. I don't even know what 'this' is,” Mendel said, as he let out a long thin breath between his teeth.

           “Weird for both of us, I'm sure. Come on in and sit down. No matter what other concerns we might have about each other, we're still brothers. I'm hurt that you left like you did without any explanation of where you were going and why.” Vela paused for a moment to think about something, and looked over his brother, observing his skin again. “You know, that skin condition of yours... they found a cure for it just fifteen years after your disappearance. I don't think anyone's ever lived past, oh, I don't know, twelve hundred without having that skin condition cured. How'd you survive it?”

           “A cure? I've been suffering all these years and there was a cure? I didn't know. I should have...”

           “Should have come home? Should have communicated with your wife? Should have stayed with your daughter? I've thought about how this conversation was going to go so many times I'd almost scripted it out in my mind. I didn't think that you'd ever become so worried about yourself that you wouldn't even ask about Cassie and Ara! Are you really even my brother? Because you sure aren't the person who I called my brother when we were both only a couple hundred years old.”

           “I'm sorry Vela. I can see that I've worn out my welcome. I'll see myself out.”

Mendel had not yet taken a seat, and had only partially made his way through the door, and he turned around and slowly walked through the door. As he walked, he could hear Vela's voice calling after him.

           “Don't walk out on us again, Mendel. They won't be able to take it again. Cassie won't be able to take it.

           “Us? What do you mean 'us'. Cassie's... alive? And Ara? Where are they, Vela?” Mendel had turned around and walked all the way into the living room where Vela sat in his armchair.

           “I didn't mean to tell you like that... I somehow envisioned a much different reunion than this.”

           “Where are they, Vela? I want to see them.”

           “Don't get all worked up Mendel. They've gone out to complete their food transport for the Gathering. They should be back by morning. This close to the Gathering, we take rotating shifts around the clock to make sure that all the ceffyls have enough food and water.”

           “How are they? I'd given up hope that I'd ever see them again. I figured that the way my skin has been virtually tearing away, that there was no way that I would ever see them again, especially not Ara! You know what the survival rates were for children of our generation just as well as I do.”

           “Yeah, but like I already told you, they found a cure for it after you left. Don't get all worked up over this Mendel. And if you want this little reunion to go smoothly, you'll need to calm down, and get some rest. You have to get some sleep so that your skin doesn't frighten them too badly when they see you again. We don't have time to get to the medical center to transfuse my blood to yours. That's the only way we have to spread the cure now that Earth is destroyed.”

           “Vela, you're coming with me. We'll be back before morning, and I'll be cured. Menkalinan! Bring us both back now!”

           “Menka... what? Who are you...” Vela's question was cut off as he and Mendel lost sight of Vela's living room and reappeared in the observation room of Mendel's star ship.

           “Menkalinan. Menkab for short. He's my partner in crime, if you will. He's been my only company for the last, well, you know how long it's been. Come. I'll introduce you to him.”

Mendel led Vela out of the observation room and down the hall to the medical labs. Once they had both entered the room, Mendel sealed the door, and took a seat in front of a blank table, and motioned to Vela to take a seat next to him at the table.

           “Alright, Menkab. Show yourself to Vela.”

           “Certainly, Sir. I'm proud to meet your brother. You've told me so much about him, and I've always wanted to meet him.”

           Slowly, Menkab's avatar appeared holographically on the table in front of them. He turned towards Vela and spoke directly to him.

           “It's a pleasure to meet you, sir,” Menkab said. Vela turned to Mendel and said “He sounds just like... Dad.”

           “You can talk to him, Vela. He's nearly sentient. I've spent millenia working on his heuristic algorithms.”

           “Yes, Vela, you may speak and interact directly with me as you would anyone. Are you ready to begin the procedure?”

           “Wait! What procedure? What are you guys talking about?”

           “Calm down. I just need you to place a finger on the terminal in front of you. Menkab has highlighted the sampling location with bright green. He just needs a small sample of your blood.”

           “Blood? What the heck are you talking about?”

           “Vela, sir? If you'll place your finger on the terminal, I'll extract a small sample of your blood. I'll be able to sequence your DNA, and since it's so similar to Mendel's, I can isolate the cure for Mendel's skin disease in approximately forty-three minutes. It will take me a further twelve minutes to synthesize a gene splice that can be given to Mendel. Using the technology we've developed together, we can accelerate the process of the splicing, and he should be virtually a new man in six hours and thirty-three minutes.”

           “Mendel, what's all that garbage this talking space junker just blurted out?”

           “Please, just put your finger on the green light. You won't feel a thing, and it will be over and we'll be home in time to see Cassie and Ara when they return. You don't have anything to worry about. Just relax!”

           Vela reluctantly moved his finger toward the green light, which suddenly moved directly under the pad of his index finger. The light momentarily brightened, and Vela felt a small pinch and it was over.

           “See, now that wasn't so bad!” Mendel was speaking with more energy and vitality than he had in years. He knew it would soon be alright. He would have Cassie back, and his beloved Ara, the pride and joy of his existence.

           Grus sat back in his chair, riveted by the scene that had just played out in front of him on his security monitor. Vela Omicron was Mendel's brother! How could he have missed that! It should have been one of the first things he discovered. Perhaps he had overlooked it because Vela was chief of Grus' staff, and had been loyal to him. It couldn't possibly be true that the most wanted man in the Galaxies was the brother of one of his men.

           This moment filled him with such satisfaction that he had not experienced but one other time in his career. That was the day twenty-five years ago when he'd accepted the assignment to his current post; the result of the assassination of his predecessor and subsequent framing of an innocent man with the murder.

           Grus pressed the power button on his holographic terminal and turned it off. He took a deep breath, smiling wryly, and put his feet up on the terminal. He rested his elbows on the arm rests of his chair and pressed the ends of each of his fingers against their matching opposites, and closed his eyes. Everything was too good to be true. He was well on the way to strong-arming the Monarchs to give him everything he had ever dreamed of; an entire world of his own, free from the watchful eyes and governance of the Monarchy. He could almost taste it.

           Mendel couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so good as he did right now. There were still twenty minutes or so until the gene splice would be ready, but he was already feeding off the shear anticipation of being whole after so many years, let alone the prospect of being with his wife and daughter again. He had dreamt of it so many times he didn't even bother to count them. The dreams all ended the same way... with him waking up in a hot sweat and a complete and total disorientation. It seemed to take hours sometimes to get himself righted again, fully grounded in the reality of his loneliness and solitude wherever he was in space at the time.

           Vela was enjoying some sort of food in the galley, which, oddly enough, was still equipped with a standard Earth-based kitchen, that included the customary oven, range, and other kitchen implements along side the food replicator. The dish he was eating was also of Earth, and presented him with a balance of proteins and carbohydrates and other important nutrients.

           “Man, Mendel, this stuff is really great for coming from the dust in the air or wherever it comes from. I could eat like ten bowls of this!” Vela was quite excited, having gotten over the anxiety of returning to the planet's surface to be home before Cassie and Ara returned from their work.

           “I'm glad you like it. Menkab is quite the chef,” said Mendel. Menkab piped in his automatic gratitude response.

           “My pleasure, sir. Would you like something to eat as well?”

           “No, I'm way too excited right now to eat anything. Shoot, I can't even sit still any more.”

           With that, Mendel leapt to his feet and began pacing up and down the hallway between the galley and the bridge, deliberately counting the steps between the rooms. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, pause, turn left, and go back again. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve... dang, I lost count. No, I just took bigger steps. I've got to do it again. Mendel repeated the ritual for the next three or four minutes until he realized that all this seeming energy was really just an adrenaline rush that was quickly beginning to wear off. His knees were beginning to shake and almost buckled a couple of times on his last turn down the hall. He returned to the galley, and announced to nobody in particular that he was going to go and lie down until the splice was ready, and he could begin healing himself.

           He entered his room, left the door open so as not to alienate Vela from him after their renewing their relationship, and half-sat, half-collapsed at the end of his bed as his knees finally did buckle. Mendel rolled onto his back and slipped into a shallow dream state. Ancient visions of his wife and young child flitted through his mind while his eyes rolled around inside their lids, and the lids themselves flapped halfway open and closed rapidly. His breathing was also shallow and rapid. He woke after about fifteen minutes at the gentle grasp of Vela's warm hand on his cold shoulder.

“Menkab says the sequencing didn't take as long as anticipated, even though he'd adjusted for our being brothers. He said our DNA was almost ninety-eight percent identical. How did we not ever find that out, when we were originally spliced? Anyways, we should get you down to the sick bay or medical room or whatever you call it up here and get this show on the road. From what your computer says, this might be much more painful than it was for our first time through. Back on Earth, we were sedated for the procedure, so I don't recall any pain, but we'll have to see how it goes. Can I help you up?”

           Mendel did not respond vocally, but found enough strength with Vela's help to sit up, rise to his feet, and make his way down to the on-board medical labs. Once there, Vela again helped Mendel to move his body onto one of the examination tables and gently lay his head down. He remained nonvocal and began to return to semi-consciousness. Menkab's muffled voice was ringing in Mendel's ears as he finally passed into total unconsciousness.

           “Vela, it appears that Mendel is incapable of treating himself with the splice. Will you help me do it? I'll give you instructions as we go, but we must begin soon. It appears that all the excitement he's had in the last twenty-four hours have served to weaken his heart. My simulations indicate that if we can begin the splice, his heart will be repaired as his DNA is re-written. You were right also, Vela. This is going to be extremely painful. Please turn to the computer panel behind you, and press on the section marked “IV” Inside you'll find an intravenous injection kit, which I'm sure you'll know it by the old Welsh word “cit mewnwythiennol.”

           Vela reluctantly turned around and gently pressed a finger on the letters “IV” and waited. After a second or two, a small beep from somewhere overhead was heard, and the panel gently protruded from the wall. It didn't do anything else, so he reached up and pried it open. Inside, he found the “cit” and he pulled it out of the cabinet. He set to work, all the time listening carefully to Menkab's instructions, asking detailed questions as he went.

Chapter 5: Commencement

           Just past eight in the morning, Mendel woke from another dream that he couldn't care less to remember. He sucked in a deep breath, filling his lungs slowly, held it for a few seconds, and then very slowly released the air between his teeth. He immediately felt refreshed, and resumed breathing normally. He lay there for a few minutes longer until he felt like he had the strength to get out of bed and set his plan into motion. Mendel swung his legs over the right side of the bed and gingerly placed his feet on the floor, and then sat upright. The dark marks on his skin had lightened significantly overnight just as they always did with adequate sleep and proper medication.

           “Glad to see you're up and moving about, Mendel. Do you feel rested enough to begin your 'adventure' on the surface?”

           “Thanks, Menkab. Remind me when this is over to activate your overnight sleep subroutine. I know I set it up a long time ago, and didn't turn it on, but I think it would do me some good to think of you as sleeping at night. Even though I've been alone on this ship for what seems like forever, I'm starting to feel like I need some alone time. I feel so... watched these days.”

           “Sir, I've been monitoring all incoming and outbound communications, and have not detected anything out of the ordinary. Obviously you know that I only monitor your vitals once you enter your quarters until you rise for the day. Other than that there's nothing else that could be construed as being watched.”

           “That really doesn't comfort me, just the same. It somehow feels like more. Anyway... let's just get this show on the road. Is my wardrobe ready to go?”

           “Not quite. There are only three items left to produce, and they should be completed within the hour. Would you like me to prepare something for your breakfast? This may be your last good meal before...”

           “Before what? You old tin can. You don't have to remind me that this may end in my death.”

           “I'm sorry! I believe you misunderstood. Rasalans have a very different diet, and eat very frequently. The agriculture on the planet isn't as variegated as it has been on other planets you've visited. I merely meant to recommend a balance and large meal to help get you going for what will more than likely be a very long day. You should know, that even as we speak, Vela Omicron is approaching the community square of Pyxis. He's preparing food and water for the Great Ceffyl, and will be returning to work in approximately 1.5 hours. What would you like to eat?”

           Oh Sure, he thought. Try to get me to eat a nice meal after telling me something like that. I haven't seen Vela in centuries, and I'm supposed to approach this plan with a full stomach? I think I'm going to be sick...

           “Just surprise me with something. I'll eat in the observation room.”

           “Very well, Mendel,” Menkab said.

          Mendel watched his brother Vela Omicron from the holographic screen. Vela stopped unloading his rover loader in the main square of Pyxis for a moment, stretched out, and rubbed the back of his neck for a moment. Went it felt sufficiently loose, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes, relaxing his heavy eyelids. With his head still laid back, he rubbed his eyes and opened them. It was playing out just as he had dreamed. Deja Vu? No, that stuff isn't real... Vela saw Mendel's “comet” ship, and thought the light from it was beautiful. The ship reflected the blue light of the Rosalan sun and the yellowish light of its moon, giving it a soft green glow, something like the flesh of a kiwi fruit. Vela reminded himself to look for the comet again later, when his shift was over.

           The solstice was was progressing on schedule, and Vela kept one ear tuned to the noise of the forests, waiting and watching for the Great Ceffyl to appear. About ten minutes after the rover was unloaded, the Great Ceffyl galloped down from the hills; didn't walk or trot like the ceffyls were known to do. When it reached the square of Pyxis, it raised itself on its great hind quarters, and howled, no, screamed at the green comet in the sky. It was a blood curdling howl. No one had ever heard a ceffyl make a noise other than the clop of its two front hooves when walking over the paved roads in their cities. Vela was on hand to see the event, and Mendel saw and heard it on his ship. Both brothers froze in place, Mendel in his chair and Vela with his back to the Great Ceffyl. For several minutes they both just watched or listened to see if anything else would happen. Vela took the stunner from his belt, and kept it at the ready in case he had to defend himself from some unexpected motion of the Great Ceffyl.
          Vela slowly backed away from the Great Ceffyl so as not to startle it, or disturb it with sudden movements. He thought that he might gain some sort of insight from the positions of the other ceffyls in the woods around the the cities of Rasalas, or at least the nearest handful of cities.

Vela had almost reached the security office tower. There were just a few more blocks to go. He thought that it was odd that there were no other people out. Usually, there were at least a handful of people walking about the streets, stepping in and out of the small shops, or simply just meandering about to get out of the house for a few hours. Mendel had made his way down to the planet's surface, and was now following Vela towards the office. He was making a crunching or crackling noise behind Vela, more of a scuffling sound really. He was scuffing his way through the remnants of straw that had been lost from the loaders on the cobblestone streets on their way to the square for The Gathering. Vela stopped abruptly and cocked his head to one side, straining to hear the noise; Mendel froze in place in one of the dark shadows near the corner of a building. Vela turned to look in the direction he had heard the noise and saw nothing.

           Mendel resumed following Vela as he continued on his way, both of them being more cautious. Vela listening harder, and Mendel trying harder not to be heard. Vela slowed down as he was moving down the street this time, hoping that the Great Ceffyl might be there next time he turned around.

           Vela heard the sound again... the scuffling was closer. He stopped walking and this time the scuffling did not stop. He waited as long as he could wait, all the while holding still, and when he could stand it no more, he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand straight up. He quickly turned around, and dropped to one knee, drawing his side arm. It wasn't a lethal weapon, but the stun solution that was normally only ever used on a ceffyl would be more than adequate to stop any human assailant. Mendel could not believe this was all happening just like he had seen in his dream less than twenty-four hours earlier.

           The stunner was in still in Vela's hand. He held still, and waited just a moment longer to see if he could finally pinpoint the source of the should. He dropped to one knee, raising the stunner to a firing position. There was nothing to be seen, but while he was on his knee with his stunner raised and aimed at nothing but air, he heard the scuffling again, but behind him in the direction he had been traveling. Now Vela was starting to get worried. First the unearthly scream he had heard from the Great Ceffyl back at the square, the fact that no one was out and about on his entire route back to work, and now, what seemed to be someone following him that seemingly had the power to be in more than one location at once, but no where at the same time. He was scared; he didn't know what to do now.

           “Who's there!?” Vela spoke timidly, at a volume just above that of a normal speaking voice.           

          “Is someone there?” With his left hand, he started to feel for his radio in his left pocket, and as he did so, he felt the hand of someone placed lightly on the nape of his neck. The hand was cold, and as it rested on his neck, he closed his eyes, and slowly lowered the stunner, and pulled his hand out of his left pocket, leaving the radio untouched.

           “I never thought this day would come. Not in a million years,” said Mendel. “You're looking well, Brother.”

           “M-, Mendel? It can't be you... They said you were dead, well missing, or disappeared, or something. We looked for you for a very long time! Where have you been for the last nine thousand years!?”

           Vela was now back on his feet, and turning to face the man who had placed his hand on the back of his neck. He was hardly prepared for what he saw. Mendel was now very thin, and his skin white, and had almost a paper-ish look too it; thin, and almost brittle. Vela could clearly see the largest veins and arteries in his brother's face, as well a mixed look of anger and extreme fatigue. Did he detect a twinge of sorrow in Mendel's eyes?

Author's Comments - Chapter 4

Hopefully by now, I've started to show some improvement. I feel like I'm revealing more of the plot, and developing my characters more fully. Let me know what you think of Chapter 4 as compared to the previous. Have I really shown any improvement in style?

Chapter 4: Preparations

          Menkab new very well that Mendel had not formulated any sort of a plan. It was easy enough for a computer to study the empirical evidence of that fact. The two of them had been wandering the galaxies for almost 10,000 years-- visiting this star system or that. Mendel never showed any real interest in any of these exotic destinations, no matter what the planet or its people might have had to offer him. He simply didn't care. He didn't care about anything, and he didn't care that there was no one to care that he didn't. As a matter of fact, everyone he knew was more than likely dead, and so who would be there to care about him? Vela hadn't tried to contact him for more than four centuries now, and for all Mendel knew, he was dead too, until he had arrived at Rasalas and directed Menkab to look for him on the planet's surface.

           Menkab had an easy enough time of it. After all, computers were good at collecting massive amounts of meaningless data and scouring it tirelessly, limited only by the capacity to think given it by its human creators, and eventually finding the important tidbits that some human wanted to monitor. Menkab had kept tabs on Vela since the day Mendel had taken the ship from Earth, keeping him the subject of a low-level subroutine that would be sure to evade Mendel's detection. Mendel wasn't aware that the computer had access to all the information systems in the Fifty Galaxies through a series of network-to-network interfaces. Unbeknownst to Mendel, one of the software and hardware installations that was completed early in the ship's construction schedule included an interstellar C&C Module, or Command and Control. This would give the the home star port a way to not only track the ship, but direct it to return home or self destruct in the event of some sort of hi-jacking maneuver.

           Fortunately for Mendel, he had known about the self-destruction device, and had jettisoned it out into deep space just minutes after his first tesserotation to another galaxy. It blew itself up at the end of a two-minute countdown set on the device that would be initiated should it detect any tampering or become detached from the body of the ship. It was a miracle Mendel had even found a way to dislodge the device and get it to the cargo hold fast enough to depressurize the hold letting the suction pull it into the vacuum of space. Later that afternoon, he had discovered that the ship was on an Earthbound course, and used his administrative login to stop the recall, and delete the program. It wouldn't have mattered anyway, considering that the device that executed the tesserotation was only added to the ship just hours before his departure.

           The one piece of the puzzle that Mendel had never found, never became aware of was the indestructible information link that was created between the ships computer and Earth. Menkab was given a security subroutine that Mendel had never been made aware of. It was a basic installation that went into all star ships, and therefore would be overlooked if someone was looking for a special program or background process in the system. There was no physical hardware that was specific to the program. The captain of the ship could “jam” communications, but could not terminate the homing link. It was undetectable to anyone that wasn't supposed to know about it.

           Altair Grus knew everything about every place Mendel had been to, everything he ate, and even the times of the day when he slept or woke. Grus was the chief of security for The Fornax, the Monarch's intergalactic brute task force. He'd been keeping tabs on Mendel since being promoted to his current position over twenty-five years earlier. He was shocked when he came into work this morning and found the urgent message waiting for him in his communicator.

> URGENT MESSAGE: ALTAIR GRUS, SECURITY CHIEF [THE FORNAX]

> > > STAR SHIP, SERIAL # 44932A6019XDD # HAD BEEN DETECTED

> > > IN ORBIT AROUND THE PLANET RASALAS. PASSENGER LIST
> > > CONFIRMED: MENDEL OMICRON; [NO OTHERS PRESENT].
> > > AWAITING FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS RE THE FORNAX.

 

           Grus' heart began to beat fast. This was it. He'd been waiting for this for most of his adult life, ever since he'd first heard of the tesserotation theory. It was supposed to be just that, at the point in time when Mendel had walked out of the lab, and both he and the ship simply disappeared. Fast-forward ten thousand years, and the time had come. Grus had coveted Mendel; coveted his knowledge and the possession of the tesserotation device. Now, in his role as Security Chief, he had the opportunity of his lifetime. He would soon have that technology to himself. Leave the blasted Monarch's out of it. His loyalty to them was just a cover for his own selfish desires. He had used them and his position to obtain the resources he needed to track Mendel down.

           Grus logged in to his secure terminal at the desk in his scarcely furnished office. He navigated to his secure personal file area, entered the password “OMICRON,” and waited for the program to load. In minutes, he confirmed that Mendel and his ship were in range for him to gain not only information access, but he could now view the interior of the ship via the embedded tracking cameras that were the center of the computer's human occupant monitoring system. He deftly switched the view screen from one camera to the next, searching the ship for it's only passenger. After about five minutes of learning the layout of the ship, and searching from fore to aft, he finally located his target, Mendel Omicron.

           Suddenly, Grus felt his heart take another leap as Mendel turned to face the camera. He was speaking now, directly into the camera he had just accessed. Had Mendel seen him? No. That was not possible. It only felt like Mendel was looking at him. His gaze was deep and penetrating, yet empty at the same time. The appearance of his skin was not as Grus had expected—white, and see-through. The veins and arteries in his face and neck were clearly visible. If Mendel hadn't seen him, which was technically impossibly, who was he so intently conversing with at this very moment. He fumbled with the software settings to find the audio controls. He turned the volume up and picked up the conversation in the middle of a sentence.

           “... way to appear as a local while I'm down there. I need you to synthesize some clothing that matches the current styles of Pyxis. It shouldn't be hard considering that they all seem to wear nothing but gray.”

           “Mendel, they were only wearing gray clothing... uniforms actually... because the people were preparing for The Gathering,” Menkab replied. “The normal clothing of Pyxis is quite garish, and brightly colored.”

           “The Gathering.... it's real?” Mendel asked the question under his breath, but Menkab answered the question as if it had been asked of the computer.

           “Yes sir, The Gathering is real. The Gathering is an annual “festival,” if you will. It is a gathering of a breed of animal called ceffyls. They wander in out of the woods each summer solstice and “

           Mendel cut him off abruptly. “Don't bother telling me. I know what it is. I saw it in my dream last night. I just didn't think it was real.”

           “Your dreams, sir? I haven't detected you entering REM sleep cycles for the last sixty-five hours.”

           “I don't know how I dreamt it, or even if I did... All I know is that I did see it, and it was as if I was there. Vela was there too. I spoke to him. He was angry with me for everything that happened after I left.”

           “Very well. I will begin the synthesis process for your clothing in about twelve minutes. Rendering will be complete then, and it will take a further two hours and forty-nine minutes to generate a wardrobe sufficient to last through your visit to the plant. Would you like me to arrange for housing and furnishings while you wait, sir?”

           “Yeah... that would be good. I wish I still felt up to doing those things myself, but I'm just so...”

           “No need to finish the thought, sir, I'll continue to take care of you in any way that is needed and within my ability to provide. You should go and get some rest before the trip down to the surface. I'll have a supply of your maintenance medications ready for you prior to departure.”

           “Thank you, Menkab. I wish you had feelings so you could feel how much I truly have appreciated your companionship all these years. If everything goes according to plan, I may not have need of your services for too much longer.”

           “Your welcome sir.”

           Grus glowered with excitement. He was both excited by seeing Mendel Omicron, and disgusted at the frailty of the man who had eluded the all-searching eyes of the Monarchy. It disgusted him, his weak manner of speech, his touchy-feely language with the computer. How pathetic. What a waste of the stretched and pasty-white flesh pulled tightly over his face. As Mendel walked away from the camera trained on him and feeding the terminal on Grus' desk, he decided then and there it would be a much easier job of obtaining possession of the star ship and the tesserotation device than he had previously thought. He logged off the terminal and immediately began formulating his own plan, making a note to himself to search for newly occupied dwellings in Pyxis. He'd give Mendel a few days or weeks to settle in and get comfortable, sure in the knowledge that he'd avoided detection.

           Mendel slowly strode down the narrow hallway of the ship towards his cabin. What would matter if he slept another few hours before making his way down to the planet's surface anyway? No one was expecting him to show up, so the hours he was about to waste really wouldn't be a waste to anyone but himself.

           After the door to his cabin slid shut, he stopped short of the foot of his bed, and pressed the spot on his collar to activate the release in his suit. After a moment, the materials slowly half-melted half-poured from its highest point on Mendel's body until it pooled on the floor. He stepped out of it, and over the next few minutes, the material formed itself into a small rectangular box, about the size of a deck of playing cards, with the dime-sized activator in the center on the upward facing side.

The skin on Mendel's body that was normally covered by the suit was even more damaged and wasted than was the skin of his face, which he treated with a special blend of chemicals. His back was covered in a lightning storm of blood-red cracks that spread from the nape of the neck down to his tailbone. Similar marks spread down each arm and leg, both front and back. He gingerly stepped over to his bed, and crept in between the sheets, laying on his back, looking up through the only real window in the ship. It revealed a vast expanse of space, and was capable of zooming in over two thousand times to expose details not visible to the naked eye.

           Mendel stared out the window for nearly two hours trying unsuccessfully to fall asleep. He found himself reflecting on his spirituality and the nature of his soul when he looked out into the expanse of creation. How could he possibly live this long? God had not intended for man to live this long, surely. Even Earth's ancient prophets had lived eight- maybe nine-hundred years or so. He had lived for over ten-thousand years. But that didn't make him a prophet, did it? No; he couldn't possibly place himself in the same category with so many highly revered and righteous men. He had left the family he loved, not to save his people, but to preserve himself. He stole, he lied, he cheated his way through situations over the dark years of his life to preserve his own life.

           Clearly, God had intended as part of his plan that it was appointed unto man that he should die, so why had He allowed Mendel to live this long? Perhaps man had tampered with one area of science that should never have been explored. Why had he chosen to undergo the gene therapy that had let him live so long when he should have died so long ago. Everyone who had ever meant anything to him had been destroyed in the Cleansing on Earth just fifteen years after he left. His wife, Cassie, and his daughter Ara were no more, and he had done absolutely nothing to save them. He had known before they themselves knew, and he did nothing to save them, only to preserve his life, and this forsaken ship he now lay in. He felt his time was come; time to finish his work and somehow find a way to return to his maker in whatever manner possible. But first, he had to exact his revenge for the Cleansing. His anger comforted him... it was his only true companion through the ten centuries he had roamed through the universe. It carried him off to sleep, much as it always had.

           Grus had been absolutely appalled at the site of Mendel Omicron's skin underneath the clothing. His stomach turned and he felt like retching, yet he did not have the power to turn his gaze from the horrendous creature. How could anyone live in such a condition as this? By all rights, he should have died, with gaping wounds such as those. There must be something about that suit that he didn't know about. What was that? As far as he knew, no such technology existed anywhere in any of the worlds people with humans. There was no such things as “aliens” as depicted by ancient earth people in films, books, and television shows. Humans had only ever discovered humans on other worlds. Where could he have possibly gotten the technology for that? It looked like some sort of animal hide, but there is no way that animal hide could pour off a body and form itself into a neat little package, ready for the wearer to transport or wear again.

           “Ahhh.... Omicron, you've been a very busy man, these many years! I'm guessing in all that time in isolation, you've had the opportunity of a lifetime to develop technologies with that ingenious mind of yours,” said Grus, aloud to himself in his office. It was entirely possible, seeing as he was the man in possession of the tesserotation device. “I suppose that's just another thing I'll be happy to pry from your cold dead fingers. You certainly won't be needing it that much longer.”

           Grus heard a rapping at his door, and quickly turned off the holographic display on his desk, and turned to answer. It was one of his direct reports, Heze Volans, waiting in the hallway to bring him news.

           “Chief Grus! This message was sent to you from the Monarchs. It's past my security clearance to even carry, but it was so urgent, they sent it through a third-world courier. We found him in the woods attempting to “harvest” the Great Ceffyl. Turns out it was a ruse to get our attention so he could safely deliver the message undetected.”

           “Is he still here?” Grus asked, as he quickly finished reading the brief message.

           “No, sir. We didn't have any reason to hold him after he revealed the reason for his activities. He checked out with Rasalan security credentials, so we had him transported back to the woods. “

           “You fool! He didn't give you the whole message. Without his key code, this part of the message is meaningless. Quickly! Get out there and find him again! GO NOW! Take all of the available men you can find, and round him up!”

           “But sir, he's long gone, the released him already and with the Gathering starting shortly, it's not safe for the ceffyls in the region we found him for us to be on the road. Maybe we should wait...”

           “No. Go now. Your life depends on it. You have to find him now, ceffyl's be hanged!”

           “Very well sir. We'll do our best.”

           “Your best isn't good enough... just bring him back here as fast as you can.”

           Grus was infuriated beyond anything that Heze had ever seen. He knew that this time was serious. He ran back down the hallway toward the security staff quarters and sounded the alarm.

           “Gentlemen! Let's move. We've got a man to catch!”

           The four or five men who had just walked in the door from releasing the messenger in the woods looked at Heze with fatigue. They had just spent hours hiking through the woods, and new a manhunt was not going to be over very soon. They roused the remaining three men from their bunks, and together they all left the security headquarters in search of the man who had brought the mysterious message to Grus.