Aetheran Child
Authors: Antonin Januska
AETHERAN CHILD
Antonin Januska
Copyright © 2014 Antonin Januska
All rights reserved.
To all the people that have encouraged me through my journey.
Prologue
The year 20-- has come, and with Earth's technology at its peak, there is nothing that can stop humanity from progressing further to explore the stars. Already, scientists watch the vastness of space through powerful orbital telescopes. All the forms and the different matter particles intrigue the Earth-bound society.
Uncontrollable communication channels have opened inside this world full of never-ending business and information exchange. It started with the telegraph, then the telephone, wireless phones continued the trend until the Internet networks penetrated the human civilization as needles and thread through skin. Everybody needs it, and everybody has it.
Some of the humans, those sometimes deemed crazy or wishful, hope for other life in the universe. They hope to see or meet intelligent beings like themselves, elsewhere in their vast galaxy. What they do not realize though, is that the same extra-terrestrial intelligent life they hope to meet is watching them, has been watching them for thousands of years from all around the Milky Way galaxy. Making sure that no one will ever disturb the quiet blue planet and its solar system.
A group of beings deemed to be Gods by any ordinary organism, changed life, created a way for any life to become supreme, and transcendent. They created Prophecies, ones that would make sure everything stays in place and according to plan. They created Judges and Instigators that watched over the rest of their species with a keen eye. With the Prophecies and their servants came wars, cures, death, plagues, miracles, and everything else...
"We found two Shuns in the Earth system, ready to join Athiris," the strange six-legged creature said, colors flashing above its head rhythmically.
"My reports reach the same conclusion, Grandmaster Korah," an even stranger creature said. It sat cross-legged in a high chair, hundreds of small horns twisting on its head.
The creatures occupied a large room with twenty others, all sitting behind a large oval table. Robes flowed down and around their bodies, bearing the marks of dedication to Athiris and to the Aetheri.
"Prepare to find him, Master Raki and bring him here."
"I will Grandmasters. I already have my ship prepared and also my crew," responded Master Raki and bowed to the others. They all watched him with purpose.
“Do not involve many members. This mission is classified, Master Raki. I hope you understand that,” yelped out a stranger being than those around it. Its eyes on blood red, watched Mt. Raki with interest. Its skin pulsated with fire.
"We don't get many Earthlings, do they call themselves? It's been a hundred years at least." Stated another bizarre creature.
"I won't fail." Mt. Raki bowed once more and ended discussion by walking through a section of the wall, random in choice.
I
It was a beautiful evening. Spring rain sprinkled and a gentle fog covered the streets and houses of the living creature others called, The City. City lights and the moon lit the way for any wanderers or travelers present. Flowers were growing and blossoming while the trees were starting to show new leaves. All looked serene and happy.
Alexander always wondered about the outer space and its inhabitants as he watched the light polluted skies. He imagined how the possible aliens would look as well as communicate; he always pondered upon such thoughts. Since he could read, Alexander focused his attention on science fiction books as well as movies. The young boy, about twelve years old, remembered the struggles he endured while reading Clarke's Rama series as well as Asimov's Foundation. Being only twelve, he could still read them.
It was late March and Alexander's stepparents were about to go see an old-fashioned black and white movie. Strangely, they have grown quite popular over the past years.
The boy, unfortunately, did not know much about his biological parents. He barely remembered them. Alexander regarded his stepparents with as much respect and with as much love as he would have for his real parents. It made no difference to him anymore. His father was an understanding fellow who seemed to be happy most of the time; he was always smiling for some reason. Alexander's mother, on the other hand, enjoyed being strict though if the boy finished his chores and homework, she would show let him be.
Alexander went to a middle school, just like any other kid his age. He did his work, and kept his head down, away from others. The boy tried to keep himself laid back even though he was shy. Science fiction and nothing else interested him, not even actual sciences. He lived in his fantasy, with little to no friends, no “real” friends at least. Emotions, sometimes anger and sometimes happiness, bottled up inside him and kept his true self secret except to a handful of people.
Anger took over his life; he harbored it and even cherished it at times. On the other hand, he loved, and wanted to be loved, uncompromisingly.
Lately, Alexander's life took a strange turn. He had been having strange dreams, once that woke him up several times during the night. Spiders, demons, and other creatures talked in them. He saw symbols that he could not understand: circles and lines, curves and other shapes.
"Lexan! Come down, we're leaving!" his mother yelled loudly from the bottom level.
"Alright!” he yelled back and murmured to himself, “just don't yell,” the boy walked down from his balcony to meet his parents, “What is it mom?"
"We're heading to the theater... bye!" Alexander's father dressed in dark jeans and a button up shirt hanging out.
"Goodbye,” his mother walked out the door.
The couple left, Alexander quickly locked the door behind them and headed back up-stairs into his room. He was looking forward to a night full of video games, movies, and relaxation. The boy smiled as he ran up the stairs.
II
At four o'clock in the morning, Alexander heard the doorbell ring downstairs. Why am I still awake? He asked himself as the last credits ran on the third movie he watched that night. The boy rubbed his eyes and walked down to see who was at the door.
A short man with greasy hair stood there in a black suit. He nervously held his hat in his left hand. The crude moonlight and street lamps reflected off his small car behind him. His shoes were impatiently tapping on the concrete. One hand reached up to ring the bell again.
Alexander ran into his parents' bedroom to find it empty. They must be sleeping over somewhere, he thought. With that, he left upstairs and watched the man carefully from the windows on the top floor.
The man stood at the same spot, pulled out his cellphone and punched in a number quickly. Within seconds, the phone rang inside the house. Alexander walked over to it and considered calling the police. Such a man in his neighborhood gave rise to suspicion. The answering machine clicked on and the man left a message with a number. He left and Alexander went back to sleep.
III
The next day, the man came back. He knocked loudly at the door. Alexander ran down, and picked up the phone. He could not fathom why the man came bothering them. Before he called, the boy ran into his parents’ bedroom. They were not there. Strange, he thought.
Taking out his phone, Alexander ran upstairs again to take a better look at the man and his car so that he could describe him to the police. What he saw came as a shock to him.
The black car from the preceding night was a police car. Its doors emblazoned the words “Sheriff” and behind the tinted windows could be seen the red and blue warning lights. The street lamps must have ignored the reflective signs.
“Wha-?” he mouthed and ran down to open the door.
He greeted the man and the man nodded back.
“Is there a problem?” the boy asked and the man nodded back again, “I'm sorry but my parents are not at home right now.”
“This is about your parents,” the man started, uneasily, “I'm afraid I have bad news.”
Alexander's eyes widened with fear, “What happened?” he moved closer to the sheriff, his fists tightly clutched.
“There was an accident last night,” the man paused, “they did not survive,” he said, shaking his head.
Within the next few hours, Alexander was thrown in turmoil of emotions and problems. The Sheriff asked him to come to the police station because he could not leave the boy alone in the house. Alexander agreed and followed the officer. Once at the station, the sheriff explained that a social worker and the boy's parents' lawyer will be coming shortly. He offered the boy something to eat and left.
Alexander's mind was quiet throughout the proceedings. He could not formulate a single thought; he was in a state of shock. He obeyed the officer's instructions and stayed in the Sheriff's office, staring blankly at the opposite wall, eating the burger and fries he had been provided with. He shed a few tears but did not let himself fall apart just yet.
In a few hours, I'll be back home, he thought, they'll find they're mistaken and my parents will be there. Even as he repeated to himself that it must have been a mistake, he knew it wasn't. He knew that everything would change and nothing would be the same. Reality would not set in for the boy. As he sat, twitching slightly whenever the phone in his pocket vibrated, Alexander started questioning reality. How could this have happened?
His phone went off again, but the boy knew that it was only his friends and people from school texting him, asking him if he was okay. How could I be okay? He asked himself and the others, his friends. No, not his friends.
I'm all alone; he thought and dismantled his phone, throwing the battery into a trashcan nearby. I just need peace and quiet for a while. Another hour went by and Alexander shed another tear or two. He could not accept the fact, but then again, how could he?
Shocked, appalled, he finished eating and proceeded to quietly think and stare ahead of him. He remembered the good times he had with his parents, but with a violent shake of his head, he tried to forget the memory. The pain started to set in, deeply and violently.
I
The police officer that was in charge of Alexander, let him sleep over at his estate for a couple days until the family's attorney arrived. He had been on vacation and left for the city as soon as he heard about the tragedy. Once at the police station he informed Alexander that he did not have any relatives to take care of him.
“What do you mean no relatives?” Alexander yelled out, “What about Grandma and Grandpa?”
The attorney looked at the boy carefully through his thick glasses, “Alexander, you've been adopted.”
The boy's eyes widened, “How can you say that? After Mom and Dad died!” tears welled up below the boy's eyes.
“Alexander, I realize this is hard for you to understand but your mother and father adopted you when you were just a little boy. They signed a contract wherein they stated none of their relatives will be allowed to keep you in case of their death.” The attorney stopped, looked up at Alexander, already crying, “But, on a lighter note, your parents and their life insurance left you with a large sum of money that will last you a lifetime. Especially after their house is sold and assets are liquidated.”
Alexander gave the man a startled look, “What do you mean 'after their house is sold'? Where am I going to live?”
“Of course, there's that. I'll be looking into the orphanages around the city,” he paused, “I'll send you to the finest one.”
The boy stopped listening because the conversation did not matter anymore. His parents were gone and so was his life. Alexander was doomed to move into an orphanage and spend the rest of his under-age years there. His pain was only to be augmented because now, he wouldn't have any relatives to go to. He would not even have anyone to confide. He would not, in fact, have anyone at all. Friends that occupied his life would be gone forever, he knew it. No one would come see him and he probably would not be able to leave the premises. A prison, he thought and he thought correctly. He felt fear, deep down, he felt fear and abandonment. No one cared for him and no one wanted to care for him. The same night, Alexander cried harder than before.
Every single day that passed, the truth seemed more real and horrible than before. He could not stand the reality and he could not even escape because he had no means to. In the orphanage, he knew he would have even less of a chance to do so. Internet and television privileges would be cut, video games too, surely.
