Test of Magnitude (The Torian Reclamation) (28 page)

Several hours went by. Brandon finally opened his eyes. It was dark, except for the halcyon arc, which was glowing only green now. Brandon was alone under the tent top. He must have fallen asleep there.

The center of the arc then became misty, as if there were a fog inside it. That was new. Then the mist cleared. An image could now be seen there, instead of just the tent cloth behind it. It was a figure—a human, a man with a full beard wearing monk’s robes.

It was Derek.

Brandon was almost certain he was awake now, but the scene before him was dreamlike. The halcyon arc was displaying a three dimensional picture inside of it. It was like a video, only the depth was much more realistic. It looked like Brandon could step through the arc and be where Derek was. Brandon looked around him desperately, seeking clarification from a Sheen, or at least wanting to get a witness. Nobody was around. He turned back to the arc.

Derek was now staring directly at him, through the arc, with a disturbed look on his face. Behind him was an interesting landscape. It was daytime there, and unique rusty-red rock formations stood majestically behind him. They reminded Brandon again of things he had seen in the Utah state parks.

Derek’s face drew closer to the frame of the ark. His eyes were looking directly into Brandon’s now. It was as if he were peering into the stolen halcyon arc, wherever he was, and could see Brandon just as well as he could see Derek.

Brandon raised one of his hands and made the peace sign. Derek returned it. Then, the middle of the arc became misty again. The mist cleared, and there was no more image—just the tan curtain behind it and the greenish glow along the inside of the rim.

Was this real? Or was Brandon still asleep and dreaming? He stood up and walked outside the tent area. Two Sheen were sitting by a campfire a little ways away. When they saw Brandon, they got up, came over, and asked if he was finished for the evening.

“Um …yes. Is Madkin3 still here?”

“No,” one of them replied. “He is sleeping. We will show you back to your lodging.”

The two Sheen closed up the tent around the arc, walked Brandon back to his cabin, and left him there. Brandon went to bed. He fell asleep thinking about Derek.

The next morning, Madkin3 approached him as he was finishing breakfast.

“Did you sleep well?” Madkin3 asked.

“Yes,” Brandon said. “Every night. Daytime naps, too. I have never slept so well as here in your village. Sometimes I have strange dreams, though.”

“All dreams are strange,” Madkin3 said, “but very often the ones remembered are meaningful.”

Brandon told him about his vision of Derek in the halcyon arc last night. Madkin3 seemed greatly interested in the experience. He thought for a while before offering a possible explanation.

“Your friend who was taken along with the other arc might well be with the arc. You suspect the vision to be a dream, as it occurred between periods of sleep. It may well have been, but perhaps it was not. It doesn’t really matter. A true vision can occur whether awake or asleep. We have no record of the arc behaving in such a manner before, but they have never before been separated like this, and the arc we still have with us is now behaving differently than it ever has. The vision may have been real.”

“If it was real,” Brandon asked, “am I supposed to learn something from it, or be directed somehow?”

“Yes, as all true visions have a purpose. We cannot help you discern what that purpose is, however. You will have to discover it for yourself.”

Brandon was a little disappointed in those explanations. They weren’t much help. He leaned back in his chair and looked up. The morning sun was warm, but there were some wispy clouds hanging around. Perhaps today would not be so hot.

Just then, he saw a flare streak across the sky, directly overhead. “Meteor,” Brandon mumbled. He looked back to Madkin3, who was now also looking up at the sky.

“No,” Madkin3 said. “That is probably your friend, Mip7, returning. I received a message that he would be coming for you today. Come. It’s time to go to the meeting place.”

“Meeting place?”

“He is not arriving in the same manner as before. Come. You’ll see.”

Brandon got up and followed Madkin3. Several of the other Sheen came along also. They all mounted yuquin at the same stable Brandon and Mip7 had arrived at. Their small procession rode out along the northern ridge a ways, but then descended into the plain beyond it. It was hot again. Brandon kept a watchful eye for serpents and was ready with the fishing laser if he needed it. He kept looking about him in the air, determined that none of the flying type would swoop in on him.

What he saw instead was a large object descending from the sky, over the plain ahead of them. It was a spacecraft. As it approached, Brandon could see it was a flying saucer, what the Torians referred to as a landing craft, the same type he had seen dock in one of the interstellar transport ships in orbit above this planet. The ship slowed down as it descended, until it was hovering above the desert floor in the distance.

It landed. A section of it opened on the side, and a ramp extended from the opening to the ground. Figures appeared in the opening and walked down the ramp. Brandon and his party were still too far away to see them clearly, and there was a little dust blowing in the air obstructing his vision. But he could tell there were six of them. One of them was taller than the rest.

“There’s your ride,” Madkin3 said.

Brandon squinted, but still could not make out the figures in the distance. As they rode closer, Brandon was able to determine that only one of them was tall enough to be Mip7. But who were the others? He hoped there wasn’t going to be any trouble. Last he had heard, the military was out to find him. But Brandon had not seen any other natives who were that much shorter, so perhaps they were Sheen. For one fleeting, irrational second Brandon flashed on the idea that Derek was there among them. But no—that wasn’t possible, was it?

They rode up to the ship and the dust in the breeze cleared. Brandon could see them clearly now, but he was afraid to believe his eyes. There was Mip7, walking out in front to greet them. But the figures standing behind him—they were men! Humans! How could this be?

Brandon dismounted and took off running. Within seconds, he had reached Mip7. He grabbed ahold of one of his leathery forearms with both his hands and began shaking it with more strength than he knew he had.

“I’ve never been so glad to see a lizard-man!” he said. “Thanks for coming back! But what’s going on?” He looked behind Mip7 at the men. “Who are these?”

“These are your brethren, Brandon. Come, let me introduce you.”

“You succeeded! You got them to free more Earthlings!”

“Yes,” Mip7 said, “thanks to you. And it happened just as you said it would. You’ve made powerful friends, Brandon. Don’t ask me how, but what you said would happen is starting to happen.”

“How many?”

“Twenty three—for now, anyway. These five have adapted the fastest, and show the most promise. I couldn’t wait to see the look on your face when I showed up here with them. I’m not disappointed.”

The five humans were just standing there, looking around. They did not seem particularly excited to be meeting Brandon. Two of them were staring at the Sheen and the yuquin, squinting. The others were looking about in every direction. Brandon and Mip7 moved closer to them.

“Guys, this is Brandon Foss, of…”

“Virginia,” Brandon said. “I’m from Virginia.”

Two of them muttered a greeting, two of them nodded, and the other just kept looking around. Three of them were dressed in renaissance fair clothes, the other two in disco outfits. A couple of them looked no older than twenty. Brandon could understand why they weren’t thrilled to be introduced. They had just been revived, and were probably still highly suspicious. For all they knew, Brandon could be part of the conspiracy that had disrupted their lives and brought them here. Plus, they already had a small crowd of human companions. What’s another one to them?

“And the year 2012,” Brandon added. Now they were all looking at him.

The Sheen rode up and joined them. Mip7 turned to Madkin3 and asked, “How’s he doing?”

“Excellent,” Madkin3 replied. “Perhaps even better than we are. Your friend has a special strength.”

“That much all of Tora is beginning to be aware of,” Mip7 said. “Or at least, they should.”

Brandon walked over to Madkin3 and extended his hand upward. Madkin3 leaned down on his animal and grasped Brandon’s hand.

“I owe you my life,” Brandon said. “And so much more. Thank you.”

“We have been honored by your presence,” Madkin3 said. “Now Brandon, listen. Believe in your visions and follow them, but lead a balanced life, always. Make wisdom your constant companion. Strive to understand the difference between your true instincts and contrived impulses. Do that and there can be no regrets, come what may.”

Brandon nodded and released his hand. He turned back to Mip7.

“Are you driving that thing?”

“No.” Mip7 laughed. “There’s a standard crew on board.”

“What’s next?” Brandon asked.

Mip7 stopped laughing. “We have a job to do.”

Brandon gave him a thumbs up. He was finally going to get to ride in a flying saucer.

* * *

“No women?” Brandon asked.

“You don’t have time for those yet,” Mip7 said. “Let’s get this task done, and then we’ll talk to Olut6 about reviving some females for you in the next batch. Assuming we come back alive.”

“What about Director Markin1? Is he cooperating with us now?”

Mip7 shook his head. “No. I would say he is more uncooperative than ever, in fact. I’ll tell you about him over an argim, when we find the time.”

They were back at Cardinal-4, on one of the upper decks, sitting a large room surrounded by Torians, most of whom were fighter pilots. The five additional humans were sitting with Brandon and Mip7. The room was set up as an auditorium, so everyone was facing forward, waiting for Commander Olut6 to step up to the podium and speak. This was the big moment, the initial briefing on the hostage rescue operation, and the ones in this room were those who would carry it out. Brandon was actually excited to be here at this historic moment among the privileged few on this faraway world. He realized the irony of it, but he nevertheless found himself caught up in the feeling of Torian pride that surrounded him. He did, after all, have a horse in this race himself, and maybe even a personal score to settle.

The other Earthlings were less than outwardly thrilled, as was to be expected. Brandon met them all individually on the trip over in the landing craft, and had had a chance to converse with them for a bit. The two wearing disco clothes were named Jack and Perry, both Americans. Jack was only 19 and taken in the mid-70’s, not surprisingly. Perry was from New York City, was in his early thirties—like Brandon—and was abducted in the year 2003. Brandon didn’t have the heart to tell him the disco comeback of the early 00’s fizzled out pathetically.

The other three were Matthew, Stu, and Joseph. Matthew and Stu wore medieval knight’s clothing, were both in their mid-twenties, and both taken in the early 80’s. Stu was Chinese and abducted near Shanghai. His name apparently translated as Stu into English, or something close to it. Joseph was a twenty-year old Dutch kid who had been abducted from his parent’s farm in rural Holland in the late 80’s. He wore a Robin Hood-type outfit similar to Brandon’s.

According to Mip7, three groups of eight were supposed to have been resuscitated, but for some reason the last group ended up with only seven. The three groups were processed simultaneously, but had separate facilities. The revival process was basically the same as Brandon and Derek had experienced, except that video game consoles were set up in the gray rooms and the guys were encouraged to use them for leisure. Those who scored highest in the games, and displayed the most aptitude and agility, were given the opportunity to volunteer for real space-battle military duty. There were ten good prospects in total, but these five were the only volunteers.

All the remaining revived humans had been transported to a special habilitation facility arranged for them on Continent-3, still on Amulen but far away from the Science Complex. Brandon was glad to hear they had gotten away from there, and especially away from Director Markin1.

These five guys may have volunteered, but they were far from enthusiastic. Who could blame them? They were revived less than a week ago, and were still acclimating to the situation when they were whooshed out into space. Maybe none of this was real to them yet.

Of the bunch, Perry seemed to be the most immediately adaptable. He was friendly, wide-eyed, and had an adventurous spirit about him. Brandon already figured Perry would be the most trustworthy in a battle situation, if push came to shove.

“You must have run out of clothes for us, with 23 new revivals,” Brandon said to Mip7.

Mip7 shook his head. “There’s a large storehouse of goods taken from Earth at the Science Complex, including many more boxes of clothes. We’ve got you covered.”

“No pun intended?”

“What’s a …pun?” Mip7 asked.

A hush fell over the crowd. Brandon looked up and saw Olut6 approaching the podium. Show time.

“All right, listen up,” he said. “I’m sure most of you have already heard the news, and know why you have been called here. It has been confirmed that the aggressors are Azaarian, and they have been located. The warships which attacked us, and took away Torian prisoners, are now orbiting Milura, a world which Azaar once began to colonize several hundred years ago.”

A video screen came on behind Olut6, showing a map of the galaxy. It then moved in to where it showed Tora on the map, and illustrated where Milura was located in relation. It didn’t seem all that far away on the map. Then, the screen zoomed in on a picture of Milura.

Olut6 continued. “It is not known exactly how large of a native population now resides on Milura, but it is thought to be rather small. Why the attackers have chosen to stop there is anyone’s guess. What we do know is that more than a few landing craft have been deployed to the planet surface, so we suspect the hostages have been de-boarded. This might even be by design, a way for the Azaarians to gracefully return the prisoners to us. If we just wait it out, the situation may very well develop where the Azaarian warships will return home and we can simply go over and pick up the stranded abductees without further incident.”