My last post is a philosophical examination of combat related PTSD.

Blood on my hands. I look and see the unseeable. I feel and rest on the spear tip of misery.

Cause I shot the rifle.

My bullet fragmented between us and splintered life into death.

The breath of me breathing what you cannot. The eyes of mine seeing what you cannot. The fingers of mine slippery with warm liquid. I tried to regain, repair, restore. Life rendered into stillness.

Sound stopped. Motion stopped. Time shuddered. Blood on my hands dripping into a dwindling puddle between us.

The pieces of a moment before. The pieces of me, and of you like ashes of burnt paper fluttering on an unwanted breeze. Me grabbing them needing to reassemble life from a grief like a bottomless hole in me.

The memories vivid and jolting. The thoughts bundled around a single second’s decision drain me, drained you.

Will finally end me, ended you. And time stopped at that single moment. Never resuming. Dark and unforgiving. As it should be.

The shovel I owned showed it’s age. The tool was a two generation hand-me-down. The handle was like an upper case tee, the old gray wood worn in the center. The metal that held it atop the long shaft part was roughly rusted. The shaft of wood from handle to the digging blade also grey had a slight split along the wood grain in front. The edge of the metal digging end was worn almost enough to flatten it where it grudgingly penetrated the earth.

It was a short shovel but I’d used it several times before including once when I was about eight years old. Then it belonged to my grandmother and I recall it seemed less worn, less aged.

I carried the shovel over my shoulder and with my left hand carried a small wooden box I built to hold my cat’s remains and the last napkin ball she played with. She’d lived to become an ancient twenty, struggling with arthritic hips, a total loss of hearing. Add to that a cat’s disposition of its ‘my way or no way’ well I felt some relief when she passed.

She didn’t weigh nearly what she’d weighed a few years ago, but weight loss was yet another scourge of aging. Oh, I missed her within hours of her dying, but life sucks that way. I mean death being inevitable as if all of one’s life good, bad and everything else becomes condensed into a last gasping breath that trickles into the memories of the living. And there those memories slowly dissolve while life replaces them with new ones. That sucked too.

Rain had softened the earth. The row of assorted rose bushes I’d planted over the last few years looked, smelled beautiful, and inviting. I knew digging a hole wouldn’t cause much trouble and since I lived in the house where I was raised, inherited from the same grandmother who owned the shovel. Yup it came with the house. I walked to a small pet cemetery where we’d left our dearly departed pets in the past.

I selected the spot where if Miss Lizzy were alive she might sit and watch the birds nesting in spring. I painted a stone marker after a few days passed and place in the line of the others.

Setting the metal lined pinewood box down, I began digging. The dirt was easy to cut into but heavier than normal since it was rain wet.

At about a meter deep, I heard and felt the shovel hit something. The contact vibrated up the shaft while the bent over edge of the blade caused a line of pain across the bottom of my foot.

After dropping the shovel, I knelt and reached into the hole. My fingers brushed a dirt encrusted flat surface clearly not a tree root. I’d not worn work gloves so as I dug around it’s edges, dirt wedged beneath my fingernails. 

Finally after several minutes of work, I pulled hard when I had my hand beneath it and lifted out a blue plastic rectangular box not much longer than the length of my extended hand thumb nail to pinkie nail. There was a tightly sealed lid that had some type of metallic looking tape wrapping and covering the joint.

I sat, placed the box down and finished my original task. Once Miss Lizzy was at the bottom of the hole, I whispered my goodbye and a prayer I created while still a young boy. Filling the hole required a couple minutes. Then I took the mystery container, the shovel, and returned to my home.

Washing it was done at an outdoor faucet. Cleaned the box looked both new and very old. Hard to explain why, but it did. I went in and sat at the kitchen table studying the box, the tape enclosure and finally used my pocketknife to cut away the tape.

More to come

Perhaps the sentiments contained in the following pages, are not yet sufficiently fashionable to procure them general favor; a long habit of not thinking a thing wrong, gives it a superficial appearance of being right, and raises at first a formidable outcry in defense of custom. But the tumult soon subsides. Time makes more converts than reason.

Thomas Paine

None shall know

of the zephyr’s passage

or the secret story

its passing foretells,

it drifts through ancient rafters

rustling webs among the eaves

awakening a lazy brown spider

at the center of her tattered web,

legs flexing

fluid spinning

she dances in preparation

for the coming generation.

This homespun globe spirals

into the sun

with a lamb upon a spit

once tender flesh crackles

above glowing embers,

while the hungry sit and watch

their tired tongues flickering

in the desert sun

their stretched bodies slither and writhe

sliding over crystalline sand

as they flee the unforgiving.

Yet that glowing global ember

grows even larger

until it slowly settles in the sea

orange light spilling

drifting through the rafters

through cracks in the walls,

and the brown spider

hunger now abated

curling her legs beneath her

patiently awaits the next zephyr.

Snow blown ice particles stung my skin and forced my eyes closed.

Well doesn’t that feel great, I thought bitterly, removed my wool-lined leather gloves, wiped my eyes, and examined the red door they had slammed in my face. The polished brass numbers seemed as cold as the ice. My attempt to reconnect with old friends ended abruptly.

I walked off the three-step porch, and stared up at the front of the gaily-decorated house. Holiday lights neatly outlined the structure sparkling under a thin coating of snow. I read again the large red and green lettering that stated Merry Christmas as if the day, Christmas Day held a special significance for the occupants.

Clearly not,I decided, at least not beyond spiked eggnog and Christmas morning pleasures.

I wasn’t so old I could not recall the feeling, nor was I so young that I still believed that Christmas Day was all about me and me alone.

We often went to church the night before, Christmas Eve midnight service. I enjoyed the singing, the dark mystery of the manger scene assembled off to one side of the nave. Our minister wore a thick black and silver beard, smiled more than most, had a rich sonorous voice that filled the rafters with his words, although, the rafters hung low in the small ancient building.

No longer did I recall the sound of his voice, but I could still picture his face, his wide grin, which occasionally made me believe that he knew something vitally important and that the knowing filled him with a particular joy he alone experienced.

Recalling the church interior was easier. It was old dark reddish brown wood with a low ceiling, exposed hand-hewn rafters, and lighting that resembled rows of flickering candles hung overhead in small wrought iron candelabras.

Well they didn’t really flicker, but childhood imagination made it so on that special night.

The altar was simple, nothing ornate about it, as was the crucifix above. The simplicity made the sacrificed Jesus easier to examine, easier to accept as once having been a flesh and blood man with the courage many since envied but never achieved.

What I enjoyed most was the white altar linens with their rich resonant colors chasing the borders. Every season, each church holiday, new linens would appear. For me the purple of Easter was best.

At the midnight service, few of the normal Sunday congregation attended, but we did not care. Somehow that made it feel more intimate, as if the building embraced us, welcomed us for braving the cold star-encrusted night, the new snowfall and occasional ice to huddle within its ancient walls. From the basement, the sound of the furnace rumbled lightly underfoot as its uneven appreciated heat wavered between rows of pews.

I would sit in a pew alongside my mother, kneeling when directed by a phrase, the minister’s hand movement, while I touched the curved top of the scarred and varnished seatback, wondering how many people had felt that surface before I had. A deep scratch perhaps dug accidentally from someone’s ring as she turned to leave, seemed like a clue as to who was there in earlier times.

Once, I spied tiny initials grooved into the wood just beneath the seatback top, where it curled back, the initials were A.P.C. I tried to fill in the names, and finally gave up and made the three letters into a word, which I recited to myself for days whenever I recalled the moment of discovery.

The old faded red hymnals and songbooks felt rough, heavy with worn smooth edges. Some had small tears in pages at the top or bottom where the page met the spine. More than one person dog-eared corners at favorite songs, I guessed, and several book had names written on the inside front cover, or the rear cover along with “donated by.”

One name that stayed with me was James Matthew Tyler. I had learned in school that President Tyler had cousins who lived in the neighboring town back when he was alive. The family lived there long after.

Is this one of them? I’d thought, but never learned the answer.

After church, we returned home, made hot chocolate, finished decorating the tree with long strands of tinsel, flattening each one before hanging it so it individually moved in the air currents to reflect glittering light from the colored bulbs nearby.

Our tree was scrawny in places, which we turned to face the wall. When completed, all of the room lights went off. The tree’s lights sparkled with renewed promise bouncing off hundreds of tinsel icicles, filling the room with their hope, glowing with promise beneath the angel sitting at the very top. There was magic there and then. I knew it and believed it would last forever.

Backing down the sidewalk, I examined the windows, but did not see as much as a curtain shiver. No one inside cared who might be outside, or if they did, must’ve decided those who braved the elements on Christmas Eve were either insane, criminals or beggars.

God forbid beggars should ring a doorbell on Christmas Eve,I thought disgustedly, and turned to walk to the street.

God may not be dead, I added grimly, but Christmas, well that might be another story.

Wind continued to pick at my hair, flipping strands that hung loose from under my rolled navy blue woolen watch cap. I jammed my hands in my heavy coat’s pockets, and waded through ankle deep snow feeling icy moisture as it began to leak over the tops of my boots.

After my failure to gain entry, I realized I no longer had a goal. Strangers now filled the village that I once called my hometown.

They had taken the time to decorate for the holiday, but each house bore strings of white lights that resembled dangling icicles. White light silhouette Santa and reindeers stood like sentries on nearly every lawn. A few entry doors stood decorated, as large wrapped gifts with bows to obscure the peepholes these strangers felt were necessary.

I saw large balloon-like snowmen, kept erect by a pump that blew hot air into them, at the corner house where once my closest friend lived. The snow around it had melted like an ugly wound to expose the bleakness below.

I kept on walking hoping the wind might at least die down. My car sat parked down by the harbor, several long blocks away.

The best thing for me to do, I thought, is get away from this neighborhood.

With a nod, I turned onto a dark side street. Well, it wasn’t dark but compared to where I had just been the difference was significant.

Only two or three houses wore Christmas decorations. None looked like their neighbor. One had strings of large colored bulbs draped around windows, a fence, and one evergreen tree to the right of its narrow white front door, which had two small windows set in the top. Behind the windows, yellow-white light flickered invitingly.

The second house had smaller colored bulbs, but twice as many as his neighbor as if he wanted to make up with volume what each bulb lost in glow. He had decorated two skeletal maple trees on the front lawn. One sat on either side of the sidewalk, which approached the entryway.

The third house had a candle in each window. I stopped to count and reached twenty-four before seeing the huge lit tree inside the house. It sat behind a high bay window, round and fat in the middle, tapered to the top where an angel treetop sent rays of light outside as if somehow the golden light it created was meant for any person fortunate enough to pass by during the night.

I didn’t know how long I stood watching, nor did I hear the side door open, footsteps crunching along a snow, covered walkway.

“You’re early,” I heard a deep sonorous voice proclaim.

“Early?” I asked without looking at the man who spoke.

“Yes you are,” he said, and I heard something in his voice that quivered emotion deep in my chest.

“Midnight service doesn’t begin for another twenty minutes,” he added kindly.

I spun around, shocked and delighted, stared at eyes that still twinkled but did so now above a silver and white beard. His face seemed the same but age had remolded him with the skill of time and his experiences.

I felt speechless, and my plight must’ve been obvious to him.

“Come, you can help me light the candles. And we’ll need to turn up the heat. There should be some warm cocoa ready too.” He reached out and placed his hand on my shoulder, moved it just enough to cause me to react by turning to follow him, which was when I saw that the side road I turned onto led directly to the old church I once attended as a small boy.

As I walked into the building behind him, the odors and sights sprang back from the distant past, and became the present.

He flipped on the lights, which dimly illuminated the entire building, and as we walked along the aisle, I quickly glanced under the edge of one pew back and smiled when I saw the initials A.P.C.

“Merry Christmas,” I whispered to my past, my present, and laughed lightly when I straightened and struck a match to light the first candle.

Copyright December 20, 2009

Green Cabin rewrite.

I’m not fond of calling an in-work manuscript a draft. Just me, I suppose. 

Rewriting Green Cabin will be about converting a lot of narrative to dialog. This helps with the show me don’t tell me thing.

There are any places throughout the story that need details to fill in and make it easier for a reader to get a sense of place. Also developing minor characters to make them seem more real is needed. And the same holds true for action scenes.

For me the first writing is about setting a goal of reaching the end of the story. And too for everything to weave together well enough that I believe I’ve created a foundation of believability.

The characters I create or use to get me there must be plausible, as must everything else about the storyline.

I don’t like to or think I need to keep reminding readers about how emotions drive characters ad nauseam. If I write it well the reader understands from a single telling how Stanton Wilson feels about the death of his fiancée. To remind the reader of his emotional state when he saw her die, is more about adding words and pages than moving the plot of character development.

Now I put the manuscript aside for a few weeks and work on other projects. This will allow me to return to Green Cabin without the clutter of creation in my head.

See you soon.

“It will be there in five Solars.”

Stanton knew she meant earth time rather than attempting to calculate and live by a calendar set up to matched the ring world.

“What if they have additional ships on the way now?”

“It seems unlikely since the two in orbit now are large enough to hold twice as many people as are here.”

Stanton frowned and rubbed an itch under his left eye. “Okay. That sounds logical, but I’d like to be prepared in case we’re wrong about that.”

“We have nothing we can use to destroy them.” Attrea squatted and looked Minerva in the eye. “What do you think?”

Minerva had obviously been listening. She nodded and pointed at the sky. “They plan to invade and conquer the territory around them as far as possible. They will slaughter males including boys and infants. They must be stopped completely.”

Attrea nodded and put her hands on Minerva’s shoulders. “I am glad you are with us. I only wish I might’ve known you mother Margaret.”

“The healers claim I am like her but how would they know without truly knowing her?”

“The healers have the gift of mind read. They only use it with creatures that are struggling to live. So it is possible they knew Margaret through what they call a mind mesh.”

Minerva smiled weakly. “Can they share with me what they learned?”

“I am not sure. I will ask for you.” Attrea stood and took Minerva’s hand. “For now we should eat and rest. I believe Taisie will join us come sunrise.”

With the sunrise Stanton viewed through the satellite link the smoke on the ring where the invaders lived had grown substantially. To him it looked like a large segment of the ring world became in inferno.

How can they plan to live there? How can they even breathe? He scratched his head as if his hair itched. Damn! They went back to the colony ships. That’s how. We will need stealth gear and full body armor to invade their ships and survive. Weapons too.

In the distance he heard to gristmill begin operating. The sounds were unique. The steady splashing of water dropping from the wheel cups. The grind of gears. The odd noise the huge belts made and they glided over pulleys and guides. The grinding stones made a noise that hurt his teeth.

Shaking his head to dismiss the feeling of annoyance he felt, he turned to the sound of someone approaching. A tree disk had settled about a hundred feet behind him. Attrea, Minerva, Taisie, and two Healers stepped off.

He smiled warmly when his eyes met Taisie’s. “You appear well. How do you feel?”

“I am ready to return for a bit of retribution. This time I will not attempt communications.” She stopped in front of him as if reluctant to touch him. Then she shrugged and stepped closer, put her arms around his shoulders and hugged him hard. “Thank you again. I live due to your generosity.”

Gently, he kissed her cheek. “You live cause you’re too stubborn to do otherwise.”

She laughed lightly. “That may be so, but it is your blood that mingles with mine now. And that gave me new life.” She let him go and stepped back. “But I must tell you it feels a little itchy.” She grinned.

Stanton did not know how to reply so laughed with her. “Just be sure you don’t lose any of it.”

Together they turned to face Attrea. Stanton pointed up. “There is more smoke now than yesterday. I think the fire got away from them. And I think they returned to their ships.”

“You don’t think they plan on moving elsewhere do you?” Attrea sounded concerned.

“Maybe. Can we program a drone to explode and send it to the engine room?”

“We can arm and program it to do that but we do not know where the engine room might be.”

Stanton sighed, shook his head, and thought that invaders had the advantage.

“Why don’t we send a larger drone equipped to do a 3D scan of the ship. Surely the engine room is in the lower rear section.” Taisie said.

Attrea smiled. “That we can do. We can also determine where the invaders are staying.” She turned and walked away, tapping a message into her wrist pad.

When she returned she smiled weakly. “Everything is set. Our first team is assembling the final components. Second team arranges the portal and connects it to the satellite. The trick is timing the arrive to the moment the satellite opens to accept the drone. But you shouldn’t concern yourself too much. Both teams are experienced. It is they how build and connect portals to one another. They’ve worked together for several decades since we discovered this world.” She opened her hands and spread her arms to encompass the ring world.

“Is there a note time frame for completion?”

“Twenty-four solar hours.”

“Then I say we get something to eat. Taisie and I need to be fitted with armor and stealth gear. I want us in and out quickly and successfully.”

“As do we all,” Attrea said. “Once we have the data from the satellite’s scanning probe I will show you where you two can enter the ship without immediate confrontation. We will create a temporary portal there. That way you can get in, do the work that’s needed and get out. Hopefully before any of the invaders discover your activities.”

Minerva nodded vigorously. “I am hungry too.” She grinned when the adults looked at her slightly astonished.

Then they all laughed, which sounded as much like relief and humor. Eating the foods prepared by the Healers, which Stanton thought was more vegan mush that anything protein rich, settled them into a warm family-like routine.

Attrea’s wrist link beeped twice. She stood, walked away and raised it so she could read it. Stanton watched her nodding. Then she returned and tapped the tiny keypad. That created a holograph of the colony ship’s rear lower hull.

She tapped more directions into the unit. Now the hull slowly became transparent. The engine room was huge. The twin turbines, with FTL drive ability glowed yellow orange as if they were but idling.

“They look ready to use.” Stanton stood and pointed to the light red/yellow glow. “And there are several people working around them.”

He turned and looked at Attrea. “How soon can we get the gear we need and then transfer over?”

“Everything already exists. We may need to make some minor adjustments so the armor fits properly. Otherwise you and Taisie can leave before sunset.

“You should also know that the portal from here will pass through the satellite. There is slight risk that you may be affected negatively. But it hasn’t happened before so I feel you’ll be safe. We will hold the portal open for eight hours. If you do not return by then, it will automatically shut down. After that the portal will reopen every three hours and remain open for two hours.”

Stanton opened his mouth to reply, then drew a deep breath, held it and slowly released it. “Let’s get started.”

Forty-five minutes later Stanton and Taisie stood side by side. Both wore the newest armor design. It covered from the tops of their heads to the soles of their shoes. Stealth gear was built in and controlled by a trigger device in the right hip pocket of the armor. They had impregnable facemasks invisible to the viewer. Both carried the most powerful laser stun hand weapon available. The weapon was attached to the armor suit’s belt so if it was dropped it would not be lost. They also had mini-nucs that would emit a powerful burst of energy to destroy the targets. But would not emit more than a trace of nuclear energy. It had a null half-life so the ship would not be contaminated.

They reviewed the detailed scan of the colony ship and chose a target area where the portal would open.

“We’re ready,” Taisie said calmly.

Attrea scrutinized each of the carefully. She walked around them and finally nodded her satisfaction.

Without speaking, she turned and used her wristband to open the portal. It started as a pinpoint of purple light and grew into a hole big enough for a person to pass through. The edges shimmered and then slowly stabilized.

Attrea glanced over her shoulder. Stanton could see she struggled to hide the emotions she felt.

“We will return,” He said and stepped into the portal. Taisie followed the recommended thirty seconds between travelers.

The portal sprang into a long twisting tubular shape. It’s end was not visible.

Attrea turned to the Healer and Minerva. “We should get some food and rest. They will need several hours to complete their assigned tasks.”

She led them back to a travel disk, which took them high in the tree.

Stanton stepped out of the portal and found he stood behind one of the massive FTL drive turbines aboard the colony ship. The space around him was the same yellow orange they’d seen before.

A brief tap on his right shoulder told him Taisie was with him. He tapped the side of the facemask to activate their comm system. When he turned to look at her, Taisie was nearly invisible. He knew she’d not fully turned on her stealth gear.

“Let’s find the power source for these engines. Then we can plant the explosives where they won’t be seen.”

She nodded and went around the engine. “I’ve got on here,” she said softly. “Explosive planted and activated. We have three hours to finish.”

Stanton found the second power source and planted and turned on his explosive device. “Ready?” he asked her.

“Yes.”

Taisie came around the engine and stood directly next to him so their shoulders touched.

Stanton activated the portal using the wristband Attrea gave each of them. The portal opened instantly and second later they were in the other colony ship. Where hell’s fury awaited.

Laser fire criss-crossed the air surrounding them. The red beams didn’t damage the FTL turbines, but did etch lines in the outer metal casings.

Stanton dove for cover when the laser beams started sizzling the air around him. His stealth shield held. He looked for Taisie and found her standing her ground. She fought with vengeance in mind and bodies began filling the access points to the engine room.

In less than five minutes, she stopped the invaders’ attack.

Stanton felt a bit foolish, got to his feet and stood shoulder to shoulder with Taisie. He added his firepower as a second wave of invaders began crawling, climbing over the bodies of their dead comrades.

When they finally stopped, Stanton attempted to count the dead and injured. He could not. Both he and Taisie bore the scars of hundreds of laser hits. And he saw they both had trickles of blood dripping down their bodies, legs, and arms.

“Don’t know what type lasers they used, but they are more powerful than ours.”

“We should collect a few and return with them. Then we can reverse engineer and create our own.”

Let’s get the explosives set first.” Stanton pulled his from his carry pack. He examined it and saw that somehow a single laser strike had penetrated the trigger mechanism. “Shit,” he said. “This one is already counting down.”

“How long?” Taisie asked.

“Five minutes.” Stanton located the spot where it needed to be fixed and did so.

Taisie had to climb over stacks of bodies to reach the far turbine. By the time she finished, the damaged trigger was counting down from two minutes.

“Open a portal from there and get out now.” Stanton called. He listened and heard the sound of her portal open.

“See you when we get back.” She called and then he heard her enter the portal.

At that moment the first colony ship exploded.

Stanton was tossed around and slammed his head on a metal beam. He struggled to keep from passing out fingers fumbling with his portal controls. He heard a rumble and knew he was out of time.

Then his portal opened and he staggered into it. Behind him cascades of fire and debris followed. Something slammed into the back of his head. I’m not going to survive this, he thought and passed out.

Taisie fell through the portal opening and landed at Attrea’s feet. She could only crawl. “One of the triggering devices was damaged. Hundreds of the invaders awaited us on the second ship.” She turned and sat. Blood began pooling around her.

Attrea tapped into her wristband. “We need multiple Healers at once.”

That was when Stanton literally blew through his portal and rolled to a stop when he collided with a boulder. He did not show signs of life.

It was five days before Stanton opened his eyes. His head felt like someone was drumming inside it. The sunlight burned his eyes. He attempted to sit, but failed.

He groaned loudly. Instantly, he was surrounded by Healers. The sight of them gave him a moment’s fright. “My god where am I?”

Then Taisie appeared. She took his right hand and held it with both of hers. She opened her mouth to speak and found she could not.

Stanton squinted and focused on her face. His lips moved to smile, but failed. “I hope I didn’t take back my blood from you.”

Tears ran down Taisie’s cheek. She shook her head. “You are seriously concussed. The Healers have treated you for days. They didn’t believe you would even regain consciousness. I am deeply thankful they were incorrect.”

“Me too,” he mumbled and drifted into sleep.

Another five days passed before he recovered enough to attempt to stand. He managed to sit and then saw Minerva and Attrea watching.

“I think I’ll live,” he said glad his voice sounded normal.

Minerva ran over and climbed onto his lap. “Good,” she said. “I was pretty worried. But Attrea told me you have a very hard head.”

“I did not,” Attrea said fighting a smile. “I said, well okay I did.” She sat next to him and rested her head on his shoulder.

“The colony ships burned. I’m afraid most if not all the invaders may’ve died.” She turned and gently kissed his cheek. “Their earth-made lasers are quite powerful. We have a tech team working on them.”

“I hope we never need to use them,” Stanton said. “I am sorry we killed so many invaders. I did believe we would destroy the engines only.”

“From what our aftermath scans displayed the invaders’ ships were laden with explosives. The damage done was due to that not what you and Taisie accomplished. Which, by the way was astonishing. She told us about the damaged timer.” Her voice broke. Her eyes watered. “If you had not reached your portal when you did, even if you’d been five seconds later, you would be dead now.”

He took her hand. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Speechless at last,” Taisie said as she joined them. She placed a hand on Attrea’s shoulder and said softly, “Did you tell him yet?”

Attrea reached and put her arm around him. “I want to carry your child, Stanton. With Minerva I want us to be a real family this time. Earth is beyond repair. We have fought for too long to prevent the self-destructiveness that seems part of humanity’s DNA.”

He nodded. Used his arm to pull her closer. As if that was possible. “It’s time I stop hunting and start living.”

But he was immortal.

Attrea stood and turned to him. “They are why I called you here. Well, I wanted you with me too, but they are from earth at a time when wars raged.”

“A time before my time. My world wasn’t destroyed by nuclear weapons. Therefore they are either lying or there is an explanation that doesn’t fit.”

“Which do you believe to be true?” Attrea asked.

“They are lying. You saw my time when you held the light on your hand, which allowed me to return to confront my once best friend. The pandemic destroyed civilization then.”

“Perhaps the pandemic from your time was a byproduct of radiation poisoning?”

Stanton frowned etching lines deep into his brow. “I never considered that possibility. It might explain why there was no true cure other than immunes like me. But since I’m an immortal actually born long before then, well that too offers an explanation as to why my antibodies cured so few.”

“You think they too were immortals?”

“Either that or they were ancestral cousins. I can’t think of another reason. But if that’s true think of the awfulness being a healthcare provider. They thought that they could stop the disease and even save the vast majority of humans, but they could do neither and never suspected that truth.” He stopped talking and rubbed his face and eyes with both hands. “It’s all too hard to truly comprehend.”

“So let’s assume the invaders are honest. Taisie left earth 2234. However she was born much much earlier as you were.”

“That does explain a lot.”

Attrea reached out and took his hand. “I think it best if we disable their ships.”

“Or destroy them?”

“If necessary. We can quarantine them to that section of the ring. There are no other humans within thousand of square miles. They can live out their lives and be as happy as possible. And they will then be no threat to the rest of us living here.”

“Can you create a portal to get several of us on one of the ships? If so I can get to the bridge and learn how to disable it permanently.”

“I will need to establish distances. They seem to be stationary, but missing by a foot might kill you one way or another.”

“How can I assist?” Stanton pulled her closer and put an arm around her shoulders.

She leaned into him and neither spoke for a few moments. Then she said, “For now be with Minerva. I can returned to the mountain and assemble a team. They will help me with calculations. We will build and send a small soundless drone. It will enter the satellite. From there it will be sent over and into one of their ships. If we succeed the drone will record everything in the ship. That will allow you a better chance at success.”

“Can’t say I want us to be separated again but I agree.” Stanton lowered his head and kissed her lightly.

Attrea grabbed him and held him wrapping her arms around his neck. ”We are safe again. You and I and Minerva can start a life together.”

He exhaled a short breath. Almost a laugh or a sigh. “Yes.”

Then she released him and walked to the edge of the disk. Seconds later a traveling disk appeared. She stepped onto it, glanced back and waved, and then she was gone.

Two hours passed before Attrea returned. During that time the Healers, using Minerva as an interrupter informed Stanton that Taisie would recover and be her normal self within several days.

“She requested that she speaks with you. If you agree you must do so now. She needs sedation and continued rest.”

“I will come now.” Stanton said.

A second Healer walked to Minerva. “I will stay with your child.”

No more conversation passed between Stanton and the Healer as they rode a tree disk to a lower level.

He saw Taisie resting comfortably he hoped. She was on a ground level bed with sheets, pillows, and blankets. When she heard him, he saw her turn her head. She appeared alert, but exhausted.

Stanton stopped alongside her. The Healer stood back to give them privacy.

Taisie reached for his hand. Weakly grasping him, she said, “Thank you for saving me.”

He nodded, feeling that what he did he did out of friendship and love so didn’t need thanking.

She cleared her throat and glanced at a hide water container. Stanton helped her drink. “Do not return without me. Those bitches didn’t give me a chance to explain why I was there.”

“You killed their leader.”

She nodded. “I’m afraid that she left out choice. But if you go alone they will at the least bring you to the edge of death.”

“I do not believe Attrea wants another confrontation. She indicated that we should disable or destroy their colony ships.”

“Then I want to accompany you when you do that.” She squeezed his hand weakly.

He nodded and said. “Okay. I think we will need several days to prepare. Attrea plans to create a portal that will open inside one ship. It will be operated from inside a satellite. Then I think we should send a drone to scout the interior locate the bridge and engine room.”

Taisie nodded. “Good. I will be ready in two or three days.” She winced as if in pain, raised her hand as he was about to speak. “Even an immortal can die. I always knew that to be true, but to be on the edge of such darkness is a lesson I will never forget.”

“We will be safe together.” Stanton heard movement behind him, glance back and saw the Healer approaching. “I will return in two days. For now please rest and recover.” He leaned and kissed her forehead, then turned and walked to the traveling disk. Minerva waited with a Healer. Together they descended to where Attrea would be when she returned.

Nothing unexpected happened during the following two days. By then Stanton was becoming anxious. He desired an end to the long travel time that began as he entered to portal on earth.

He and Minerva visited the gristmill twice. The first time it was not operating. The second time the big waterwheel turned steadily. The grinding stones pulverized grains filling sacks that would be distributed throughout the area.

They watched wagons burdened with fresh grain arrive and then after unloading depart with sacks of meal.

A flash of blue light caught Stanton’s attention. He turned and saw Attrea walking to him. She carried a small metallic box under her arm.

“You’re back,” he said redundantly and grinned feeling a bit foolish.

She smiled and once she stood directly in front of him handed him the box. “This a newly designed drone. The audio and video will sound and look as if we are there. The motor is silent so if there is anyone on the colony ship they will not hear it. Our tech team added stealth technology, which should make the drone invisible.”

Stanton opened the box and lifted out a tubular shaped object that, if it didn’t had a small propeller, would look useless. “This is very light.”

“Six ounces.” Attrea responded.

“Has it been tested?”

“Several times. It worked flawlessly.”

Stanton pointed up in the direction of the invaders base. “Through the satellites I’ve seen a lot of smoke. The fires must be massive.”

“This is why we must act quickly. Apparently they are clearing forest, using fire. As far as we can tell from satellites they are burning hundreds of acres.”

“Why would they? Are there more of them than what Taisie concluded?”

Attrea shook her head, wiped her hands across her face and pushed loose strands of black hair behind her ears. “We think that they decided to set up a perimeter wide enough that they cannot be invaded without the invaders being visible for miles.

“My research team also thinks they are planning to return to earth for more members of their society.”

“Then we must disable their ships soon.” He glanced up again. “When will the rain cycle saturate them?”’

“It will be there in five Solars.”

They entered the house through a normal looking door. Wood with four-pane window in the top half. There was no porch just three steps up a brick staircase.

Inside everything looked normal to his time except he saw no holo-displays. In fact he did not see anything that might have to do with entertainment.

Minerva walked to the kitchen where stainless steel and slate formed the cabinets and shelves. He smiled as he watched her tug in the refrigerator door failing to open it. He assisted. He gathered what was needed to construct a good meal as Attrea collected medical supplies for the coming morning.

After that they settled into a routine that made him feel at home. They talked and laughed. Then long after the sunset, got Minerva climbed into bed.

Attrea guided him into a second bedroom where they resumed what they’d begun in the green cabin.

An hour later, Stanton dropped into a deep sleep.

Attrea woke him. He rubbed his eyes and was about to ask the time. She was up and dressing.

Stanton joined her. Then he gathered the bag of medical supplies. As he moved to the door, Minerva stepped out of her room and walked to him. She was dressed.

Without a word, the three left the house and went directly to the portal. There were there less and five minutes. The blue light began like a distant throbbing ring, building and growing as it neared them. Seconds passed then Taisie appeared. There was blood running down the right side of her neck.

She dropped at his feet. She was semi-conscious. Stanton saw wounds everywhere. It looked like she’d been in a knife fight. Her right hand was locked around the hilt of her sword. It was covered in blood and slim pieces of flesh and muscle.

Stanton dropped to his knees. Carefully examining the worst of her wounds, the right jugular he pinched closed. It had been leaking blood steadily. Not ruptured so she’d immediately bleed out, but she’d lost enough blood to look pale and weak.

“The only way to kill an immortal is beheading. Whoever she fought knew this. Fortunately Taisie was quick enough to escape the worst of the blow.”

Attrea knelt alongside him. “We can save her.”

“There is nothing we can do here.” He announced. “We need to Healers.” He glanced over at Attrea.

Then he thought, I’ve lost Margaret I’ll not lose Taisie too.

She nodded, stood, and stepped away about fifty feet. She removed some small electronic device from a hip pocket. Blue-green light illuminated the air before it as she held it aloft.

Attrea moved it in a circle. The light blinked in what looked like a code. Then slowly, a gate appeared.

“You must carry her,” she told Stanton.

He nodded and struggling with her weight, lifted the warrior and staggered to the portal. Minerva joined him before he could tell her no. Together with Attrea they stepped through.

Stanton smelled the tree. The air around it. Smoke from a distant fire. Then he was kneeling on a round dirt platform. One attached to the tree. The sun was starting to rise setting shadows moving as if they were sent to greet them.

Carefully he lowered Taisie to the ground. He heard a familiar sound. He looked over the edge of the dirt disk and saw three healers rising on a small disk.

They reached his location in less than two minutes. Stanton still hand his fingers closing the arterial wound. The first healer trilled several tones. He looked at Attrea. She nodded, answered with trills. Then she said to Stanton, “They need you to keep the artery closed as you are until they can get Taisie to their infirmary.”

Stanton nodded. “Okay. I found it quite difficult carry her as well. I’ll need help.”

Attrea conveyed the message. The third Healer approached him. It waved one arm in a circle. Taisie floated upward.

The second Healer touched Stanton’s shoulder. The contact filled him with an odd sensation that relaxed his worries. Once he seemed ready, they moved onto the Healer’s disk. Minerva jumped on. The Healers smiled kindly at her.

The disk sank steadily. The lower it went the darker the area around them got. The disk sank into the ground at the base of the tree. They continued down for several minutes. Then it stopped. Stanton saw they were in a room that looked like the inside of a modern hospital. Except this one had jars of herbs and liquids he could not describe.

They moved the warrior to a clean shiny table. Carefully, the first Healer placed a pillow under her head. Then he waved his hand. A small laser appeared. Using it he moved its green beam along the edge of Taisie’s neck where Stanton had his fingers.

Briefly, he smelled burning flesh. After several seconds, the Healer tapped his hand indicating he should let go.

Stanton did so with much reluctance. But then saw the wound had sealed completely. Raw emotion ran through him. He stepped back, bumped into a chair and dropped into it.

Attrea walked over and told him, “The Healers need to give her blood. They believe yours in compatible. You are B+ and so is she.”

Stanton stood wearily. Removed his shirt, which exposed his many scars. The Healers moved a second table alongside Taisie’s. Stanton climbed on and lay down.

A minute later he was connected to the warrior by a device that drew blood from him and slowly pumped it into her. Stanton closed his eyes, drifted off.

When Stanton awoke, he was told he had given her two pints. He felt weakened, but pleased he helped his friend. He turned onto his side to study her. The paleness from blood lose was replaced with normal color. Her chest rose and fell evenly not as ragged as when she stepped through the portal.

He reached a hand to touch her arm, but felt too weak to finish. Attrea came to him and assisted. Now Stanton felt Taisie’s pulse. It was steady not reedy as before.

Nodding, he rolled onto his back and looked up into the tree. To Attrea he said, “Do we know at all what or whom she confronted?”

Attrea stood next to him. “She recorded the encounter on a cube.”

A cube?He thought and then recalled the method.

“Do you have a display device with you?” He asked.

“I do.” Attrea said, “but will need a power source. The Healers and tree people use only sunlight for energy. That is what feeds the life force of the tree and therefore sustains them all.”

Stanton could only nod. He knew there was not much they might currently do to seek revenge. Or to attempt a peace agreement.

“Peace or war?” Attrea asked. “Is that your thoughts?”

“I’m afraid I am feeling less tolerant than I once did. The way Margaret was murdered and the fact I could do nothing to revenge such a senseless death disturbed me rather negatively. When we brought her to the Healers I hoped she might be healed and saved. As it turned out they struggled to keep Minerva alive.”

“And for that you are blessed I believe.”

“I agree. She is growing fast. I suppose the DNA mix from me and Margaret created something very special.”

Attrea didn’t reply. Instead she stood. “I will get you some food and drink. They told me you would need a day and night to recover. You must eat more than normal too.” She left him alone.

After the second meal brought to him by a Healer, Stanton began to feel stronger. Yet he waited until he’d slept through the night before daring to attempt natural activities.

He felt a bit off balance, but after a few seconds that passed. Next he decided to seek Attrea and learn if she’d spoken to Taisie assuming the warrior survived.

Attrea was sitting at the edge of the disk. She was in what he’d heard called the lotus position. Her hands rested on her knees. Thumbs and first fingers forming a circle. She was humming a single sound that he could not decipher.

Stanton sat ten feet away and waited. Attrea finished and stood fluidly, turned and smiled. “How do you feel?”

“Stronger and ready,” he replied. “Have you spoken to Taisie?”

“No. The last time I tried the Healer told me she would be in a coma for at least another day.”

“So we do not know what happened to her then?”

“She recorded everything with her implant. The Healer was able to transfer the data onto a sim card.”

“Have you reviewed it?”

Attrea shook her head. “No, I thought it best to wait until you were ready and then we’d see it together.”

“I’m ready if you are.”

She reached for his hand. He grasped hers and instantly felt an emotional jolt of joy.

They walked to the base of the tree trunk where the disk attached. There was a small door wide and tall enough for Attrea but Stanton needed to bend over and then twist his torso to get inside. There he saw a small room filled with electronics.

Attrea sat before a monitor and tapped a keyboard with pictographic images rather than letters and numbers. She didn’t seem to need to look where her fingers landed as she tapped a code. The monitor filled with a moving image showing Taisie traveling through the portal. It was a bit disorienting with rings of brilliant colors throbbing and moving her from entry to exit. The entire event took less than ten seconds but seemed dizzyingly longer to Stanton.

Then Taisie walked though into a dense forest. Distantly he heard the sounds of drums and female voices singing about travel and freedom. Taisie slowed and squatted looking at a scene before her Stanton imagined might be some late night horror movie.

The tallest of the women danced naked, coated in what looked like blood. It dripped off her, pooling whenever she stopped. She stood about six feet tall, he guessed she weighed 150 no visible fat. She was hairless from the top of her head to her feet. Watching her was nearly hypnotic.

“I wear the blood of the men we slaughtered. Men who destroyed our homes, our families, our world.” She stooped and lifted a large metal container, poured blood over her head. It slid down her body like a slow moving waterfall.

Taisie leaned slightly to the left for a clearer view.

The dancer stopped in the center of the circle. A ring of low fire surrounded her, illuminated her, cast shadows that extended upward, which distorted her otherwise fine features. Her hair was red hung straight down to her waist. When she moved it enveloped her torso.

Now she squatted, sat back on her heels. Stanton actually felt a tinge of embarrassment at her exposure.

She looked skyward, pointed with both hands arms extended overhead. “We have arrived at the only safe destination for our kind. The men we left behind who still live will perish. Their world once ours is dying because of them. Our children died too. Except those we kept with us.

“This world we know is a massive ring, but no one will be allowed to enter our domain. If they try we shall eliminate them without prejudice. Never again shall we suffer injustice.”

Taisie rubbed her nose as if the smoke blowing in her direction was an irritant.

“We took the last two colony ships. We are free.” Slowly she stood, turned in a slow circle looking at each woman surrounding her.

Stanton tried counting, but they stood in concentric circle off into the growing darkness. He managed to count a hundred, but guessed there were, twice that number.

“Now we must begin establishing our new home. Unload the ships and assemble buildings. Those who stay here will clear areas for our homes and shops. Also bring all weapons. We cannot allow. . .”

Taisie sneezed. It was loud, sounded like a echo.

Seconds after, she was surrounded by a dozen women carrying long knives and crossbows.

“You will stand and approach. If you move to hold your sword you will be killed.” The leader said with command authority.

Taisie did as ordered. “Where have you traveled from?” she asked as she neared the leader.

“The planet Earth. Are you familiar with it?”

“Yes. I too originated there.” Taisie stopped walking directly outside of the ring of fire. “I left earth in 2234. How about you?”

“That’s impossible. The men destroyed everything with nuclear weapons in 2156. We saw it as our ships left orbit. Mushroom clouds covered every land mass.” The woman stepped outside of the fire. “Who are you and why do you lie?”

“I am Taisie. I am a warrior of this world. I do not lie.”

The woman punched Taisie hard enough to visibly stun her. Taisie stumbled back several steps and drew her sword. She was faster. Her blade slid from its sheath and with one swing easily decapitated the woman who hit her.

Then it seemed Taisie realized her error. She was attacked with knives. It reminded Stanton of a death of a thousand cuts.

But despite the wounds, Taisie fought with a vicious ferocity. Steadily moving back to where the portal left her. Once there, now bleeding badly, she tapped the pin on her chest. The portal opened. The women who fought her staggered back to where their leader lay dead eyes wide with surprise, maybe fear.

The portal opened with the usual sound of a hawk’s cry and Taisie fell through. The next event we saw was Stanton and Attrea waiting.Stanton shook his head once Attrea shut everything down. “Do we leave them alone? Or do you think that’s too much of a risk?”