The Starchild Page 8

  “It can’t be that expensive.” I tossed off thoughtfully in turn. But the look the old man was giving me told me otherwise.

  “It is…?”

  “It can be–if you’re not careful. And if you don’t budget accordingly.” My mentor and teacher patiently explained. “At any rate, you’ll need it for the transfer and transit fees at the terminal, passenger fees, carry on baggage fees–”

  I laughed then.

  “How many fees are there again?” I wondered in open amazement.

  Calis shrugged. “At least twenty at any given facility. And that’s just to start with the trip up through Transit Terminal 323. Luckily for you, you’ll be heading out on a not so busy day, so the costs should be minimal at best–though I can’t be sure. So no promises.”

  I shook my head. “Wow.” I said quietly. “I never realized just how expensive things can be in this day and age.”

  “That’s why I want you to come prepared, Isis. This isn’t going to be an easy thing for you to carry out.” Then he handed me a sealed bag that had four pass cards in them–one of them embossed in metallic red.

  “Take the red one out for me, would you?” Calis instructed then. “That will be your pass card for the duration. Try not to lose it.”

  I nodded–breaking the gold band seal. Fishing out the preferred card, I asked them what the others were for.

  “Those you’ll need as well. But you’ll need this–“ he paused, plucking the card from my hand and showing me the engraved facing on the front.

  “–to gain access to the city. This used to be mine when I was living and working there a long time ago. The thing is encoded, so you should be able to gain access to most of the city–since it’s a VIP pass of sorts. A high-level entry one. Meant for only special circumstances or individuals like myself who used to carry around a high security clearance.”

  I nodded in remembrance. “That’s right. You told me once you used to work for the Praetorial Guard’s Weapons and Technology Division a little over forty years ago as a tank specialist and program designer. This red pass card would confirm that–since only certain kinds of people, elected officials, or military personnel were allowed to carry it.”

  “That’s right, Isis. Good. You remembered.” He praised me eloquently, before handing me a file folder that had some laminated pages still attached to it from the inside.

  I took it from him and opened it up–privately amazed that such things could still exist in this current time frame.

  “Who still uses paper?” I questioned with full blown curiosity on my part.

  Calis chuckled. “You’d still be surprised. A lot of people still use the process–even if the given format eventually give birth to other things everyone finds either simple or useful.”

  “Oh.” I answered distantly, looking at the page’s ledger. It was a full blown flyer dating back one hundred years ago (to the day) advertising a public attraction which had been set back against an entertainment venue of the time.

  “The Museum of Ancient Artifacts?” I questioned in small amounts of disappointment. “This is where you want me to go?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Calis…I thought you said this was going to be an errand. Not another cleverly disguised history lesson.” I threw back in annoyance.

  “Actually…that is the errand. I need you to go find someone for me by the same of Solomon Greer.”

  “Who’s he?”

  “The curator of the museum. He’s something of an old friend of mine from way back–while I was still living and working in Stratos City as a tank specialist and programmer in fact.”

  “How long ago?”

  “Oh, years–I imagine. Can’t be sure how long though. I was never good at keeping personal records–not that it would have helped with my past security clearance issues and such.”

  I glanced back at him with growing suspicion in my eyes.

  “Are you just saying that to get rid of me for the duration?” I accused right off the bat. “Because I have a racing event to attend to in the not so distant future you know–so this better not take long.”

  “A few days at most by my calculations.” Calis promised me then. “Then you can come back and race to your heart’s content.”

  “It’d better.” I said peevishly–thinking about my current standing in the rankings. “I don’t want to have to fight Donald Dorgan again for the top spot like I did last time we went head to head.”

  “I thought you liked trading fire with him as you neared the finish line?” Calis teased me relentlessly.

  “Don’t start.” I grumbled. “I’m still not happy with that cheap move he used on me to get there first. The man is a fucking dick. No sense of fair play or good sportsmanship whatsoever.”

  “Nobody said racing would be fair or just, Isis.” My mentor and teacher consoled me at that point in time. “Sometimes, you have to be just as brutal or ruthless to win. But seeing how this is your first loss in two years in the S-class circuit as an accomplished pilot–I wouldn’t spend so much time worrying about it. You have a rather unique tendency to bounce back from such things and go on winning regardless. That’s why you’re such a legend in the profession.”

  “Legends aren’t supposed to lose, old man. That‘s why they call them legends.”

  Calis studied me for a second. “Actually, you’d be surprised by how that’s not always true.” He told me. “Do you remember anything about what I filled you in on the legendary Starchild of Ancient Lore in the past?”

  I laughed then.

  “Now that is a fairy tale if I ever heard one. The person doesn’t exist.”

  “She. Isis. She.” My mentor and teacher corrected patiently.

  “Same difference.” I dismissed out of hand. “She doesn’t exist.”

  “How can you possibly know that?”

  “I read your old history files once or twice. The ones that you kept locked away for safekeeping.”

  Calis nodded in relief. “I knew it was you. I just wasn’t sure.”

  “Who else would have your access codes, old man? Garrick?”

  “Henry Garrick is an old war buddy of mine from during the war.” My mentor and teacher shared with me.

  But I responded acidly with:

  “He’s also responsible for stiffing me out on some rather pricy fire crystals and a turn-style generator which he acquired from a buyer in the old city of Purus. A generator–mind you–that was meant for Trell last year. I still owe him big for promising him that much–but never being able to deliver the goods.”

  Calis chuckled at my recent spats of misfortune. “I’m sure I can find a substitute somewhere in that junkyard of mine.” He promised me then.

  “And if I find it, I’ll charge you half price for the privilege.”

  I dangled the draw string bag in front of his face as both a lure and bait.

  “Then you might as well take what’s in here and put it towards the purchase of such an item.”

  Calis refused. “I’ll take it out your savings from the money you managed to win at last year’s Desert Storm instead.”

  I stared at him in abject horror.

  “Calis! That money I was saving for a rainy day!” I cried out with sudden misery. “You can’t have it!”

  “Do you want the generator for your brother or don’t you? I can always wait. Can he? Can you?” My mentor and teacher bargained from a position of strength.

  “I…uh…I…” I stammered in that period of time, my mind racing with every possible doomsday scenario in the book.

  Then I sighed before nodding in defeat.

  “Fine. Take it. But you owe me one, old man.”

  Calis smiled. “I’m always in your debit, Isis. And your brother–I imagine–will be happy with something he can finally tinker on to his heart’s content. I’ll stick the item in question on the hover carrier out back when I find it–though it might take me some time and effort to procure the thing.” He informed m
e up front.

  “Trell’s patient.” I told him. “Though I don’t know what is possessing me from parting with such an earthly sum to begin with.”

  “Because that’s how legends like yourself operate. You do the things that are necessary to win the public’s affections as well as sow the seeds of your legacy at the same time. Much like the Starchild did in ages past.”

  I frowned in disgust. “Her again.” I answered dismissively. “It seems like you have a lot riding on something–or someone–whom is only a myth these days.”

  “Oh, I assure you. She’s no myth.” My mentor and teacher lectured me then. “She was real a person as you or me. The sworn guardian and protector of the entire universe.”

  I looked at him in return. “The whole universe?”

  Calis nodded. “That’s right. The whole universe. Chosen by the Ancient Ones and trained on their home world–which in turn became her own base of operations from which to launch her mission objectives from.”

  “So you’ve told me.” I said with a slight air of disinterest. It’s not like I didn’t know about the Starchild myself. I just didn’t really believe in such things.

  The world I currently lived on had enough problems as is.

  Turning around in my seat, I took the file folder Calis had given to me earlier and started to read the next page in line–the one past the flyer advertisement.

  “Calis…” I questioned in a moment of supreme clarity.

  “Yes?”

  “Would this Solomon Greer have any idea where the Starchild might be?”

  Calis thought on that one for a moment. “I don’t think so.” He answered truthfully. “His operational knowledge doesn’t come from myths, stories, or legends in the cosmological sense of the word. Most of his dealings have been with collectors and seekers of things inside the city which have some connection to this planet’s past.”

  “What kind of things are they looking for, if I may ask?” I wanted to know then.

  “Oh, you’ll see when you get there. The museum is quite the fascinating case study. It is literally a repository of our planetary heritage and culture from many thousands of years ago.”

  I nodded slowly in quiet understanding–recalling some of the things the old man had not only told but shown me over the years in video slides and pictures.

  But nothing like I knew then never existed now in the conventional sense. It was all ancient history by today’s standards. A testament to humanity’s struggles and losses to outside forces nobody could even begin to comprehend.

  Like the Fall. I thought as I finished up with what I was doing.

  “So do you want me to head out now? Or wait till later–when it has a chance to clear up?” I said, leaning back in my seat.

  Calis pulled up a real time image of the area and it showed the whole region still being pummeled by parts of the storm even still–though it was lessened to a degree in the three or four hours since arriving.

  The outer regions not affected by the storm were actually in the clear, but not Shark’s Bay. The settlement was still pretty much at ground zero for the event–as it always had been the case in the past.

  Wind speed indicators showed gusts in the upper nineties at its peak strength. But the rest appeared to be dropping back to normal range.

  “I would say tomorrow would be your best bet. Once things had a chance to clear up.” He surmised evenly from where he presently stood.

  “And even if you could go now, you wouldn’t reach Weasel’s Ridge Maze in time. The terminal is presently shut down due to another unrelated weather system in the area. The sky tubes are no longer present or even stationary for such a journey up to the space complex to begin with.”

  “I guess that means I’m going back home empty handed–again.” I muttered with clear defeat in my voice. “Trell isn’t going to like this one bit when I tell him.”

  “Sorry about that.” Calis said in complete honesty. “But today didn’t give me a chance to look for a power converter for your brother. Not when I had to deal with both the storm and you.”

  Somehow, I felt a bit guilty hearing that from him, but I did tell the old man that I would be coming in for a visit last night. I just didn’t expect to get tossed around like my father’s prized bean bag chair during a gale either.

  The roof above our heads creaked and groaned a bit more in response to my personal struggles and ongoing thought processes. But the two of us could tell that this was a baby compared to earlier when the place got hit by those two powerful microburst.

  The emergency lighting flickered weakly in time to the storm, before returning to full strength. But Calis wasn’t taking chances still in any event.

  Everything still remained shut down for the duration. That’s the way it had to be.

  Some dust rained down from above, but we were too far out of the way to get any of it on ourselves.

  Not like the last time with me.

  Sighing heavily, I said, “I better get going before I’m permanently stranded here with no way home.” Then I got up right then and grabbed my waiting pack of the work table.

  “Good idea.” Calis murmured approvingly, while giving me my new things to take home with me. “The sooner the better.”

  I nodded for a second, before reaching out to hug him.

  “Thanks.” I said, before kissing him on the cheek in return.

  “Take care of yourself. And be careful.” He warned me as I stepped back, nodded in silent acknowledgment and then headed out the way I came in.

  Calis watched me go until I was practically gone–the sound of the front door opening and closing in tandem.

  Turning around, he said: “I did as you requested of me, Tarnek. I asked her.” he reported to the glowing form of the ex-Watcher himself, seconds after the spirit deity reappeared in my former spot next to the work station and chair.

  But Tarnek was not in a forgiving mood at that very moment.

  “Are you sure it’s such a wise idea to place such a burden on someone of her age and stature? After what I just witnessed from afar, I‘m actually having second thoughts about the whole thing.” He said with almost human worry.

  “It won’t matter now, will it?” Calis countered stiffly, before getting back to work on the hover tank.

  The ex-Watcher from the Realm of Dreams watched him silently for a moment. “No. I suppose it won’t.” He sighed in quiet defeat.

  Calis stopped in what he was doing and glanced back at Tarnek with open curiosity.

  “So what is so important about that shard you claimed to have found? What importance will it have in the long run even if Isis or someone else were to find it? Other than the traditional grave implications from the God of Insanity that is?”

  Tarnek sat down in the chair next to him and said: “With the shard, we might be able to breathe new life back into the legendary Starchild of Ancient Lore once more. And through her, give the universe some real hope again.”

  “I thought that Rinia was the legendary Starchild? You know, the nightmare we have currently locked away in the stasis chamber out near the northern sector of the Barren Wastelands all this time?” Calis pointed out none too delicately

  But Tarnek shook his head in response to the man‘s statement.

  “No. Keron of Tyree Prime was the last one.” He said with general conviction, but the old man could see that he wasn’t being entirely truthful on the subject either, but decided to let it go for the time being.

  “So where is she?” He asked.

  “Keron? I have no idea.” Was the ex-Watcher’s casual response. “I haven’t seen her since she was lost to the cosmos ages ago.”

  “That’s very reassuring.” Calis bit out with blunt sarcasm–before resuming work on his latest project.

  ~10~

  The trip home had been touch and go for awhile. The ongoing storm still wanted to play its fucking mind games with me, but I managed to get back with ample time to spare.

  As luck w
ould have it, the weather still had to have the last laugh at my expense though–as the front screen door opened sharply and then slammed shut violently–whacking me right in the ass as I was bent over and taking my shoes off.

  The cry of pain which I practically carried at the top of my lungs could be heard clear across the hallway and into the kitchen itself.

  “That fucking hurt!” I continued to scream, dancing around in my sand covered socks while–tenderly–rubbing my skinny butt at the same time.

  “God damn it…! Why me of all people?!?”

  “You okay, honey?” My mom’s voice called out to me from somewhere in the kitchen.

  I nodded sheepishly. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.” I said. “Just gotta nurse my wounded pride here for a moment. Don’t need guys checking me out acting like this.”

  “You’ll be okay.” My mom reassured me closely, before I stripped

  off my socks while leaning up against the wall, then carried them into the living room barefoot–before heading into the first room onto the right and flipped on the light switch.

  Not even bothering to look, I tossed my socks into the open space hamper between the washer and dryer and then turned off the light as I left the room.

  I didn’t make it more than a foot out the washroom before my younger brother decided to invade my personal space in that second–and pepper me with the same torrential question over and over:

  “Did you get it?”

  “Did you get it?”

  “Did you get it?”

  Over and over again until mom finally had enough and put a stop to things.

  “Trell? Leave your sister alone for a moment so she can actually breathe.” She scolded him in that instant–while coming to my immediate rescue. “You can wait until she’s had a few minutes alone to herself before you start badgering her with questions.”

  “But mom–!” the younger boy complained ardently. “I’ve been waiting all week for a new power converter! I can‘t finish this project without it!”