DISTANT STAR

The outside world was unknown to her, but she could see a glimpse of it through the window in his room. The hue of the orange sky mesmerized her as she stood, surveying the environment beyond.

Her sudden appearance was unlike anything he had ever seen. He had heard about similar happenings from a few others on the waves, but it sounded like some induced hallucination. Strange things can happen in isolation.

Moments before, the man had been alone. His thoughts, referencing rooms and windows came from years past, engrained into his memory banks. But that was then. Now he was in a different place and time. He had been doing R&D on sustainable habitats in some challenging, harsh conditions, developing cutting-edge tech, when his world came apart, quite suddenly.

This was not just any room. There was ample space for two in the life-support pod, ejected from the space station nineteen days ago. The window was actually a porthole; it was one of three, offering views of a ravaged landscape. The stranded, scarred, and tarnished ovaloid pod had its parachute still attached, which danced in the wind under a fiery sky.

The being who was now in his pod came out of the blue, metaphorically, as the sky was actually orange. But it was the way in which she appeared that entranced him, creating an aura of fascination.

At first he heard a high-pitched sound, its source close, amplifying incrementally. As he stared at the silvery, microscopic mote, which grew in size exponentially, spherically, he saw himself reflected in its mirror-like surface, and jumped back quickly.

The sphere, nearly reaching the low ceiling of the pod, no longer growing, was now silent. The man saw a distorted, reflection of his surroundings, and his stunned expression. He held his breath, pulse racing, reaching out slowly with curiosity and a trembling hand towards the surface of the sphere. Suddenly, another hand from within, penetrating the silver shell, reached out towards his. He froze, as his finger made contact with the other.

The sphere, dissolving into trillions of sparkling particles, vanished, revealing a figure. Before him stood a form, appearing female, clothed in a metallic-blue body suit, hair, if any, encased within its hood. The symbol on the figure’s uniform over the left breast, featured Intersecting outlines of a circle and inverted triangle which stood out, black in contrast on her suit.

She looked directly at him from behind a reflective visor, her eyes hidden from view. He felt a sudden growing presence, penetrating his entire being. The strange sensation was one he had never known. The undefinable, odd feeling alleviated his angst.

He heard her voice, not with his ears but telepathically in a smooth relaxing tone: “Breathe. . . you’re turning blue.” He gasped for air and decompressed.

She turned, looking out through the porthole into the unknown, across the burnt, cratered, and rubble-strewn surface of the moon. Emblazoned in a circle on her back, were the words: EARTH’S ANGELS, PALMDALE, CA.RE. (California, Republic). In the center, was a graphic image of Earth, at least what was left of it. The planet had gone through some extreme transitions, generations ago, leading to a nuclear winter. The year was now 2149.

“You’re lucky to be alive,” she communicated internally. “I know what you have been through, it’s rather miraculous that you survived. I was sent for you, Chandler,” she revealed.

The dumbfounded expression on the man’s face was almost comical. He felt so invaded, since he had never encountered a true telepath before. There was no way to conceal any of his thoughts. He was like an open book, uncomfortably naked in her presence.

She sensed it, able to hear his thoughts, probe his distant memories, and trace his genetic history. He heard her voice again, “Look,” turning to face him, she reached up, removing her visor, pulling back her hood.

Chandler Morse, the 46-year-old scientist, saw before him a beauty of unknown age; her air of wisdom and abilities obviously beyond his comprehension. Blondish hair, cut short, framed her flawless face. Her deep, probing cobalt eyes, flecked with gold in limpid pools, looked him over. The next word she uttered came from her lips. His eyes ravished her every feature. She was the first human being he had encountered in nearly three weeks, ever since the meteor swarm destroyed the research station, orbiting over Titan, Saturn’s largest moon.

“Chandler, you may call me Avila. I will respect your privacy, conversing in your customary way. You may feel more relaxed with spoken words. Only when I sense some disturbance, will I alert you telepathically. The important data you compiled needs to be protected, and so do you. Others seeking it are close.”

Cautiously, Chandler spoke. “It seems you know more than anyone else privy to my work; the others have only fragments, as you may realize. Yet these keys are crucial elements to the whole, but useless without the entire set.”

Avila smiled, “History has repeated itself throughout the ages, ad infinitum, with similar goals. Only the players have changed, yet the quest has not.”

Chandler nodded in agreement. “You must know why this concerns me. It appears there are no hidden secrets between us and you seem to know me better than anyone else. Only, I don’t really understand why you’re here, or who sent you, and from where?”

Avila began, encapsulating: “You were intrigued when you read the words on the back of my suit and deserve to know the truth. I have been part of the Earth for People, Not-For-Profit movement ever since its founding, decades before Palmdale was a coastal city. L.A. then became an underwater mecca for divers and aquanauts in 2072. Nine years later, Yellowstone’s caldera blew, sending the planet into nuclear-winter, just as things were getting hot. Militias roamed the ravaged land, while oil barons and salvage pirates prospered, unbound by rules under sulfurous, cloud-filled skies.

Chandler gulped, “You were around then? Let’s see, that was a hundred-and-seventy-seven years ago!” Would you mind explaining that?” She nodded and let him carry on, “Oh wait, you said decades before the big slide, how many? Just how old are you?” She looked around 39.

“A woman never likes to reveal her years, you know that. Let’s just say I’ve aged well for my species.”

“Uh, you mean you’re not human?” Chandler wavered.

Avila remarked, “My species has lived on Earth longer than modern humans, so tell me then, don’t you think I qualify as human?”

“Oh, please, do continue. . .” Chandler replied, curious to hear more.

“Take a deep breath, and keep breathing, you don’t want to start turning blue again, lovely color though, just leave it for the flowers,” Avila mused.

“You were going to tell me who sent you, and where you came from, I mean your species?”

Avila continued with a more serious expression. “I am Telephian, my home world is in an inviting little solar system of seven planets, orbiting an ancient star, located in Andromeda. I was sent by the Elders, a species whose actual name is difficult for humans to pronounce.”

Chandler looked at her quizzically. “Avila, such a pretty name. So, you just dropped-in from Andromeda, really? Andromeda is two-and-a-half-million light years away.

My field is astrophysics, what you infer seems unlikely. And how have you come to know so much about me?”

“We travel using quantum transference, enabling our species and objects to move from one place to another in space-time through shifting polarity in the quantum field’s mobius-vortex-cycles,” Avila said seriously.

“Oh, of course, now why didn’t I think of that? It seems so simple,” Chandler said sarcastically.

“Primitive beings view science as magic. There are only three things in the universe,” Avila casually remarked.

“And I thought there were more than a dozen.” Chandler continued his sarcasm, wondering what she was going to say. “Only three, really?”

“Yes! Particles, waves, and empty space. Atomic particles and their movements through space account for it all. But, of course, a myriad of things evolve from those known elements and their motions. But the source of it all can be broken down to particles and their behavior,” Avila smiled.

“I believe you are familiar with Einstein’s theories and his discoveries. One he spoke about specifically, was spooky action at a distance.” She continued, adding: “Essentially, under specific conditions, an occurrence in one place can effect matter in another, regardless of the distance. All the matter in the universe has a morphic resonance, enabling this phenomenon. Think of instinct in animal species. They are born with ingrained senses guiding them from their beginnings into a new world. It comes from ever present and evolving patterns, cycling through the cosmos.”

“So Avila, can you morph me up a grilled salmon steak with aioli on a toasted bun? The rations in this place really don’t do much for me,” Chandler said, half-seriously.

“It appears they have kept you alive and well. I detected no ailment or malady in your body, but your stress levels should be reduced. Want to get out of here? I know a nice little cafe on Telephia, where they make some delicious crusevian. I think you’ll like it,” Avila said with all sincerity.

Chandler just put his hands over his face, shaking his head thinking, “I’m really loosing it, I’m beginning to hallucinate; I’ve been in isolation far too long. None of this makes any sense.” He peeked out through his fingers, she was still there. He bit his tongue and felt it, looked up, and said, “Are you fucking serious?”

Avila nodded slowly and walked over to the porthole. She looked out and spoke: “You’re not really going to miss this place. The toxic atmosphere would be quite hazardous to your health. You could use some fresh air and exercise.”

Chandler had been sitting on a sleeping platform and got up. “So, do we need reservations? I’ll pack my gear.” Avila came over to him, putting her hands on his shoulders as he felt a strange sensation coursing through his veins. Her eyes probed his and a tranquil wave came over him.

Yet, another strange thing happened, on this day when he thought he had seen it all. Avila held out her hand and in her palm, a triangular form began coalescing out of thin air, appearing to be a crystal glowing in translucent green.

Avila held the object until it fully resolved, then let her hand drop to her side. The crystal remained still, as it floated in the air. It projected a holographic image above, appearing to be a planet. Chandler guessed it must be her home world. He saw many similarities to Earth’s features, landmasses, seas, and polar caps. The beautiful, precious bejeweled orb, captivated him and he wanted to touch it, just as Avila spoke. “This is Telephia, Chandler, it is my true home, and we will be there soon.”

Chandler’s doubts began to melt away. The unknown lay ahead. “There’s not much here for me to pack. Fortunately, the project data, my part of it anyway, is in a safe place. I wonder what happened to the others, and if they even survived the meteor swarm.”

If I had not been conducting a routine scan of the enviro-systems in this pod during the barrage, I probably would not be here now. I think only one or possibly two others may have escaped.”

“You are correct, and you should realize that the meteor swarm was not a random accident. Although it was made to look that way,” she said. “That is why we are leaving, now!”

Chandler noticed the same high-pitched sound he had heard before, when the sphere first appeared with Avila. Now, he felt a strange sensation arising from his solar plexus, expanding out from it. This time the orb was engulfing him, like a gossamer iridescent bubble. It was transparent from within, and he saw another sphere enveloping Avila, reflecting the orb he was in.

In the next instant, his sphere fragmented into countless particles and vanished. Next to him, a fraction of a second later, Avila’s orb disintegrated in the same way. They were standing close to each other. “We are safe now, for the time being,” said Avila assuredly.

They were looking through an enormous curved window. The view was breathtaking, revealing Titan. Beyond, in the starry blackness was Saturn, adorned by its jeweled rings. The magnificent sight was truly unforgettable.

Chandler stood enraptured. “Would you please tell me what just happened, Avila? That sound–the music of the spheres–was so strange and weird. It felt like I was giving birth.” “You rezzed, it’s how we move from place to place and easier to say than quantum dissolution, transference, and resolution, which is actually what just happened.”

“I thought we were going to lunch on your home world?” asked Chandler, slightly disappointed.

“Look!” exclaimed Avila as she pointed towards the moon they had been on moments ago.

Chandler could clearly see the surface of Titan, where his pod had landed. Somehow, the window magnified the view and he saw the red parachute, still dancing in the orange-hued haze. Then suddenly, the site erupted into clouds of dust and flying debris from the impact of at least a dozen meteorites. “Oh, my God! How did you know we had to get out of there?” Chandler was trembling.

“I have a sense for that kind of thing, Chandler. We’re OK. You realize this was not another accident. I’m not reading your mind, it’s written all over your face.”

Chandler was in a state of shock and Avila again put her hands on his shoulders. Serenity swept over him, releasing his fear.

“Some bad elements are out there, intent on making you and your data disappear. They are using old-tech like it was on steroids. You know what a rail gun is, I believe,” Avila said.

“Yes,” he replied, it’s a weapon that fires steel projectiles magnetically, with a much higher velocity than can be achieved using conventional explosives. But, why are you mentioning this? Oh, you mean they are using nickel-iron meteors as projectiles, with mega-sized rail-cannons?”

“That’s exactly right. Your lab on Titan station was in their crosshairs, so not taking any chances, they obliterated the whole station. Thankfully they did not detect your pod escaping and took so long to realize it,” replied Avila.

“Who in the world, or universe, I should say, is behind all this? I’m not sure if I could even contact my partners. Where are we now Avila, on some other space station?”

“Our ship also serves as a space station, so yes,” she said.

“And what’s keeping those bad elements from destroying this ship and us along with it, by launching another swarm of meteors at us?” Chandler’s anxiety surfaced again.

“Breathe deeply. First of all, we’re cloaked, and our ship is well protected. But we’re leaving now, remember lunch?”

“Oh, yeah,” replied Chandler dizzily. Seconds later, the familiar music-of-the-spheres trilled, then everything around them began to crystalize, fading into a deep still, silent blackness. A trillion memories flashed through his mind in a span of time, unmeasurable.

A shimmering sound woke him from a dream. Chandler found himself in the same place, standing with Avila at his side. He blinked, rubbing his eyes. “I think I faded out for a moment,” he said to her. “Probably, because I haven’t had any nourishment for far too long.” He bent down, reaching for his pack still laying at his feet, as he glanced out the window and gasped. The view had changed. He saw again what he had seen before, projected from Avila’s crystal, back in the pod. Only this time it was really there in the distance. Telephia, radiant in its splendor of verdant greens and deep blues, floated in an expanse of stars.

“There is my home world Chandler. Before we go down to the surface, I’ll get us some refreshments.” Avila walked across the open space when a rectangle lit up on the wall, outlined in thin blue light, its corners rounded. The motion of her hand dissolved a translucent panel, revealing two tall glasses of a light brown, frothy mixture. She picked them up, handing one to Chandler.

“On Earth, some say cheers, here we say skai!” They clinked their glasses and sipped their beverages, as a blissful look spread over Chandler’s face. “We’ve been on our feet a while, so let’s sit, enjoy our drinks, and this heavenly view.” Chandler seemed puzzled as he surveyed the empty room, and quite surprised when Avila just waved her hand, and two streamlined recliners appeared, floating above the floor of hexagonally-patterned tiles.

“Avila, you sure do have some wild tricks up your sleeves in that fancy suit of yours! What happened to the Earth emblem on the back?” Chandler questioned, as he sat on one of the floating recliners, its movements controlled by motion sensors. He was thinking it must be some clever magnetic levitation system, as he spun around.

“I turned it off,” she replied. “It was for your benefit. Being so far from Earth, I didn’t want you to think I was an alien from outer space; first impressions matter.” She winked.

He just shook his head, enthralled with the stunning view of Telephia, and delighted with the true zero G comfort. “Avila, I am truly overwhelmed, on so many levels, it’s total sensory elation! Whatever is in my glass is so delicious! It tastes a bit like coffee blended with something I can’t identify. What do you call it?”

“Blissootha; you needed a protein boost, and to just relax a while. Traveling two-and-a-half million light years, can be rather stressful. So, I’ve added another ingredient and you should be feeling the effects of it momentarily.”

Chandler’s eyes widened as amazement spread across his face and throughout his brain, neurons flared. He felt his consciousness expanding.

“It appears blissootha is pleasing to you, but the addition of the torenaxus is also creating the desired effects you are experiencing. Torenaxus is a fungus that grows in our forests; its extract is in the mixture. “How do you feel?”

“It all seems so unreal, like I was sleeping, but now I’m awake in a deeper dream. I have an awareness of things once hidden.” Avila nodded, “Your brain is functioning at a higher level; you are more sensitive to the vibrational field around and within us. Yet most beings are not tuned into this, navigating life half-asleep.”

Chandler spoke assuredly, “I sense the presence of other beings close by. You are the only person I have seen in the past three weeks, and have not mentioned anything about who runs this station or ship, only that it functions as both.” He finished the tasty, mind expanding refreshment. “I think this just became my new favorite drink,” he noted, putting his empty glass in a holder on his chair.

“There are many beings aboard this ship, but it is not the same one you were on orbiting Titan, although it is a similar type of vessel. This area we are in, is a portal. I know you have not had a decent meal in quite some time, so it’s your choice. We can go to the surface now, or have a little on-board tour.”

“The blissootha took the edge off my appetite, so I am quite curious to have a look around. It’s a lot to process, but I’m clearer now, so let’s go.”

Avila stood, walking towards the wall when a door-sized rectangle of thin blue light appeared. What was previously solid, dissolved within the frame, then returned to its former state behind them. They entered into a vast circular space, bustling with activity on three expansive levels with views of the stars through its oculus. Large planters were placed along the edges of the twenty-foot-wide, curved walkway covered with more hexagonal tiles.

Beings dressed in colorful attire, either tight or flowing, passed by in both directions. Many nodded to Avila. Chandler wondered if they were communicating with her telepathically as Avila chose one of the many strategically placed benches for the inspiring view, abundant greenery in the planter behind them created privacy.

They sat at the edge of the second of three levels. The third, a hundred-feet overhead. The underside of it was embedded with thousands of pinpoint lights aligned with their stars, depicting unfamiliar constellations. On the walls, there was an abundance of fern-like plants, swaying gently in the fresh, clean moving air.

It triggered memories from the Titan station, where he would have paid a lot for an hour’s worth of fresh air. Recycled oxygen gets old and sours after a while.

He looked out through a curved window, six-hundred feet high, and at least a mile in circumference. Across the expanse he saw the other side of the ship, awed by the sheer size of the saucer-like vessel. At arms-length you could hold the ship with thumb and forefinger, three- inches apart, which represented about a thousand-feet.

The vast space, open to the stars, also offered a stunning view of Telephia. He saw people moving out there, looking like birds! They were gliding around in their sporty, radiant plumage, holding onto wing-like forms of various designs and graphics, probably made of carbon fiber, he thought. Fins of a sort, were attached around the ankles. The sport was more akin to swimming through the air in zero G. Chandler assumed correctly, a force-field shielded the open space, hopefully, from erratic meteors too. The bird-like activity looked like a lot of fun, and he wanted to try it.

“Oh my God! Not in my wildest dreams have I encountered anything like this, or ever thought that such a place could even exist! It must have a very interesting origin story and I am most curious in hearing it.” Chandler beamed.

“Avila, I’m wondering. What is the reason you were chosen by the Elders to protect me? Do they want to see me? After all, you brought me on the longest trip I never could have imagined. I don’t know if I’ll ever return.

I feel both a sense of concern and total acceptance.” He leaned against the railing, watching the activity of beings below. They looked like ants a long way down. Realizing the gravity of his position, he returned to the bench.

Avila was observing him, as others passed by, noticing he was a new visitor. “So Chandler, what do you think of our little ship so far?”

“Little?” Chandler questioned. “You mean to say there are others, larger than this?” “Some are twenty times the size in the same design,” she replied, adding, “This is like the ancient ship we were aboard in your solar system.”

“You have a long rich, ancestral history dating back for centuries. Your genetic lineage has been traced by the Elders. It was essential that you should be kept safe, pursuing scientific work for a healthier, sustainable environment. You will continue your research, making significant contributions to the human condition on your home world. You’ll see.”

“So, these time-travelers have seen into my future? That’s a little weird, to say the least.” Chandler said skeptically. “Then, you know I’m a descendent of Samuel Morse, the father of the telegraph, inventor of the Morse Code.”

“Yes!” she replied, continuing: “Did you know you are also a descendent of the first code writer in recorded history?” “And who was that?” “Hammurabi,” she said. Chandler’s eyes widened, “I never imagined I was related to him! He lived in ancient Sumer, or Mesopotamia, I’m not sure.” “Yes, to be more accurate, he was born in Uruk in the fourth millennium BC,” Avila said. “Your bloodline has even more distant origins, buried in the layers of time.”

Avila spoke seriously. “You realize how close you were to being erased, and those assigned to take you out are still looking. One of your inventions poses a serious threat to the petroleum industries’ bottom line. That’s why the oil barons are intent on acquiring your ingenious designs and formulas, for converting seawater into hydrogen fuel. Just imagine!”

“I know, bad error.” Chandler realized he should not have mentioned details about his work in any science journals. Both the designs and formulas, each in three parts, were hopefully still safe.

“The Elders are not beings like me,” Avila said. “They exist in the spirit realm, intertwined with the Akashic records. There are temples on each of our ships, where one may sit in their presence. At some point they will summon you to their sacred space; I will also hear the call and go as your appointed guardian.”

“My guardian! Avila, what took you so long?” “The time was right and necessary.” She got up, “let’s go,” she said, walking towards the portal. “It’s time for lunch!”

Chandler glanced back at this wondrous creation among the stars one more time, then entered the portal. They stood still, as a familiar trilling sound increased, spheres grew, surrounding them, then disappeared.

They materialized in a lush, green, park-like setting. The air was scented with fragrances, floral and savory. Above, was blue sky with cottony clouds, where an airship drifted by. This did not seem like an alien world, but quite Earth-like in many ways. There were, however, some very strange looking flowers in well-attended beds surrounding the circular stone terrace they’d landed on. There were people going about their ways unhurriedly, amidst the serenity. Children played with balls and discs, as curious pets watched their games.

For the first time, Avila took Chandler’s hand. She lead him across the mossy terrain, passing by clusters of carefully placed standing stones amongst various types of ferns. She spoke softly to him, “Welcome to Telephia, Chandler. You seem rather pleased so far. I hope you choose to stay a while. Look, up there,” pointing to a circular structure under a shallow, dome-like canopy. “Our table’s waiting.” He saw a stand of evergreens of an unfamiliar species, surrounding their destination.

They walked up a few large, natural stone steps onto an expansive circular terrace. There were people sitting at round tables, dining in the open air, conversing in some unfamiliar language. Mouthwatering aromas drifted by, enticing tastebuds. Waiters moved about gracefully, attentive to their guests, while serving artful fare. A man walked up to Avila, speaking English: “It’s so nice to see you again, Avila.” He seemed so human, as did other patrons. If it wasn’t for the unusual flora, one would think they were somewhere on Earth at a charming cafe.

They followed the waiter to their private table, which was set in a quiet section on the terrace, where a semi-circular planter veiled them. On the table were two crystal goblets filled with sparkling liquid. Sitting on velvety chairs, they were presented with round menus, written in flowing script resembling a melding of Arabic and Chinese. Avila offered Chandler translations, but he declined saying, “Please, order what you think reflects this region’s cuisine, I trust your choices.”

“Avila, I’ve been thinking; I would like to stay here longer and really get to know you and your world. I have no one waiting for me back on Earth or in our solar system, except those that want me dead. I feel safe and welcome here on Telephia.

Avila beamed. “We have all the time in the world, take as long as you wish. You’re welcome to stay with me. My little cottage is not far from here.”

Chandler breathed a sigh of relief, thanking her with joyful acceptance of her generous offer, as well as grateful appreciation for saving his life. If she hadn’t come, well. . .

“Avila, I’ve been noticing circular elements everywhere I look; they’re in the architecture, landscape, featured most prominently on the ship, and even present on this menu, echoing a sacred geometry, which stirs within. “Hopefully, I will soon learn to speak and write your language.”

“Circles are an integral part of our universe and central to our existence. Now, I have circled back to you. This is a new beginning, where we will discover and create many wonderful things together. Telephia is a peaceful world; there are no wars or conflicts, pollution, or poverty. People thrive in ways close to nature, the true source of all life.”

Chandler welcomed this new world full of hope, protected by guardians of the future. Soft, melodic music rose, as a waiter served aromatic fare accompanied by two yellow flowers nestled in a silver vase. Avila glowed, raising her goblet. Chandler joined her, their crystal glasses ringing in a resonant chime as their voices toasted,“Skai!”

The End, A New Beginning