The Lost Tribes, page 28
“What did he say?” asked April.
“Mansurat said you remind him of the young Queen of Sheba,” Uncle Henry said. “He approves of you and that is high praise. He does not approve of many.”
The Earth globe ascended and disappeared into the ceiling. In its place, a bright iridescent light streamed toward the pool of silver liquid below it. Ramps extended outward spanning the width of the pool as the gateway opened.
Cloud-like forms flowed out of the light, like ghosts, or angels descending from the sky. When the eerie figures solidified, Ben worked hard to hide his shock. Not all walked on two legs. Some didn’t even look human. One hovered slightly above the ground.
“Whoa!” Carlos said, “Where’s the ship?”
“Orion Nebula,” said Kavera. “We don’t come close anymore. Too many UFO sightings. A couple of “hot shots” in our ranks liked to fly close and buzz the locals. Got a little restless on the long journey. We had a difficult time rescuing them from a government facility in Roswell, New Mexico. We replaced them with synthetic animatronic duplicates. We added bizarre genetic mutations at the molecular level for fun. Figured it would keep the scientists guessing. Won’t they be surprised when they discover the “alien” captives are our version of amusement park robots.”
“So who are these people?” asked Ben
“Recovery crew,” said Uncle Henry. “Our strategic alliance spans many galaxies. They will transfer critical equipment to the ship.”
“I thought they would be dressed in … well … space suits.”
Uncle Henry scowled. “Now why would you think that?”
“Because NASA …”
“Employs primitive science,” Uncle Henry said. “I can assure you that you won’t need any special suits on our galaxy class transports. Although, if you are uncomfortable, there are always the stasis tubes.” The words rolled out slowly to punctuate his point.
Ben decided it was best to keep his mouth shut. He had a lot to learn and patience wasn’t one of Uncle Henry’s virtues. Stasis tubes, whatever those were, didn’t sound like a good thing.
Another creature materialized, its skin covered with turquoise scales that reflected the light. Its wide, webbed feet slapped the platform as it left the beam.
“Volari,” Uncle Henry said. “An old friend. He will lead the ocean searches.”
Ben couldn’t take his eyes off the creature. He looked like an walking iguana. “What’s in the oceans?”
“Some of our aquatic teams.”
The light extinguished as Volari left the platform. A few seconds later, the gateway reopened with a bursts of color. The energy output was tremendous. Signals from the control panels boomed like drums. Like Ben’s garage, every wall, every surface now streamed with data. It only deepened his anxiety over his parents.
“This reminds me of laser light shows at the Sunnyslope planetarium!” April tried to get closer but Uncle Henry gripped her shoulder tightly.
The overhead monitors processed video feeds at an incomprehensible speed. “What’s going on?” asked Ben.
“Downloading information from the central computers on the Sonara and from her military escorts,” Uncle Henry said.
“Military escorts?” asked Carlos.
“The transports are civilian class.” Kavera answered. “Because of the length of time involved in the travel, they contain an entire city and technology other species may try to intercept. We may be unknown to Earth, but it’s a vast universe and trust me, we are not alone.”
Fierce-looking warriors — both men and women — arrived in heavy body armor that retracted and disappeared as they left the platform. Ornamental swords and bronze rods hung from their belts. The same type of rod Carlos’ father had wielded earlier.
Uncle Henry’s eyes narrowed. Every muscle in his body tensed but he looked as if he had grown a few inches in height and was poised for a fight. He took in slow, measured breaths.
Kavera let out a quiet whistle.
“Who’s that?” asked Ben.
“Trouble.” Kavera’s eyes fixed on the leader of the team.
“What does that mean?” asked Carlos.
“It means …”
“Carlos,” Uncle Henry interrupted gruffly. “Meet your tribe — the sons and daughters of Casmir. This is their Royal Guard.”
“They look pretty grim,” Carlos said. “Kind of like Klingons. Or Predators.”
“Fight like them too,” Kavera said. “That is, if Klingons and Predators were real. Casmirians are the genuine article. You don’t want to make them mad under any circumstances. They’re not known for showing mercy when provoked.”
“But I thought everyone gets along in the Sonecian galaxy,” Ben said.
Kavera shook his head but kept close watch on the Casmirians. Ben noticed that Kavera’s fists clenched a bit more. “Not everyone.”
“But our dads …”
“Are the exception,” Kavera said, grimly.
Ben looked at Carlos and whispered, “Got ya back bro!”
Carlos hit Ben’s fist in a show of solidarity. “Inseparable. Like fathers, like sons.”
Kavera’s lips curled into an uneasy smile but his face remained filled with tension.
The Casmirian warriors stood in formation as their leader inspected them with a macho swagger, his fists planted firmly on his hips. The team looked ahead expressionless. Once the inspection was complete, the leader turned to Uncle Henry, pulled the rod from his belt and raised it into the air. It extended into a familiar double-edged spear. Looking lethal and ready for a fight, his team followed the lead and, on command, drove the spears into the floor in a show of force.
“What are they waiting for?” asked Carlos.
“That remains to be seen.” Uncle Henry fixed an angry gaze on the Casmirian leader who tipped his head, but made no effort to approach. Something was brewing between the two of them. Ben made a mental note to ask Kavera about it when his uncle was out of earshot.
The transport beam flickered as dust flowed out of the beam. It swirled at the end of the ramp forming miniature cyclones that whipped in fury then floated upward. Within seconds, warriors materialized on the second floor balcony. Unlike the Casmirians, these warriors wore no armor and carried no weapons, but looked just as fierce. Their long black hair blew in an invisible breeze. Their leader stepped forward and raised his hand in salute. Uncle Henry returned the gesture and smiled.
“Who are they?” asked Serise.
“The Hayoolkáál,” Kavera said. “As you can see, your tribe has remarkable abilities that are enhanced in Earth’s atmosphere. It comes in handy for covert operations. Experts in weather and climate control. This is their Special Forces. It appears the Sonara has been escorted by the best warriors in the fleet. The Council is taking no chances with her safe return to our galaxy.”
Ben gave Serise a thumbs up. Carlos followed with a high five. Beaming, Serise touched her arms and cheeks, then returned her attention to the balcony. These warriors wore sleeveless tunics, their muscular arms and legs evident even from this distance. Finally she said, “Wow! Those guys are buff!” Grace and April nodded enthusiastically.
Cloaked in flowing, white robes, a new team glided down the platform. Their faces were shrouded underneath enormous hoods, their arms tucked inside bell-shaped sleeves.
Grace gasped and gripped the railing. Skeletal gray hands reached up to lower their hoods, revealing men and women with ruddy complexions and long black hair. They bore a striking resemblance to the Hayoolkáál. Their hands quickly filled in with flesh. The white robes dissolved to reveal saffron-colored robes and embroidered tunics.
Upon seeing the tribe’s human — and Asian — features, Grace exhaled.
“The Shakra,” Kavera confirmed. “One of the oldest tribes in the known universe. Experts in interplanetary species. Best linguists in the alliance. They developed the translation devices used by the Harbor teams.”
The Shakra bowed to Uncle Henry but their focus narrowed in on Grace. Uncle Henry and Kavera pressed the palms of their hands together and bowed as well. Grace followed suit, but viewed the tribe cautiously.
“What kind of powers do they have?”
“That,” Uncle Henry answered, “is a matter for them to discuss with you in private. They do not speak openly of it.”
Ben added this new development to his infinite list of questions to ask later.
The procession continued: The Savarians, a race acclimated to colder climates, the Mondavi, whose tanned bodies were covered in elaborate tattoos, and many others. Three beings with long willowy bodies and skin that glowed pure white, drifted out of the beam on a cushion of air. Ben was crushed that no one from his own tribe was among them. He wondered if all that remained was standing next to him.
The activity continued until the perimeter of the control room was filled with species Ben had never seen before — even in movies.
Carlos bumped him on the shoulder and pointed to his watch. Ben shrugged. He didn’t understand what difference the time made now.
“Halloween,” Carlos whispered.
“Carlos!” yelled Uncle Henry.
Carlos jumped and shrank back. “Sorry!”
“I’m confused,” Ben said. “This is an evacuation but a lot of people are getting off the ship. Is this normal procedure?”
“No.” Uncle Henry locked his jaw and studied the arrivals with rapt attention.
A silver flash burst inside the transport beam. The explosion spanned the width of the surrounding pool. No one but Ben seemed disturbed by this development. Soon, he understood why. With each flash, people stepped out of the portal in a military formation. They wore sleek black and silver uniforms with knives and lasers strapped to their waist. Each was preceded by large metallic crates that hovered above the ground. The glossy surface of their helmets reflected the data streams in the room. It made them look robotic.
Uncle Henry relaxed his posture. “They do know how to make an entrance.” Despite his grim demeanor, Ben sensed overwhelming pride.
“What’s with those explosions?” Carlos asked.
“The team is coming in on a different transport beam. Not from the Sonara or her escorts. Long range,” Kavera said. “That is unusual. And the most dangerous way to travel.”
“I thought you didn’t need space suits?” asked Grace.
“Only in the event of an extended, deep space transfer, when oxygen is a concern.”
The military corps turned and removed their helmets.
Ben was awestruck. “Our tribe?”
“Xenobian Warrior caste.” Uncle Henry confirmed. “This is Sondar’s elite squad. Brilliant strategists. Virtually unstoppable in a battle.”
The Xenobian men and women turned toward Uncle Henry, crossed their arms across their chests then raised their right fists in salute. Uncle Henry and Kavera responded with a salute of their own. While Uncle Henry remained stoic, Kavera seemed elated. He grinned broadly and pumped his arm twice more.
The warriors formed two parallel lines along the ramp, turned to face each other and waited. On the far end of the control room, two doors opened, revealing a cavernous space.
“So what’s that room?” asked April.
“Actually, that doorway is a portal,” Kavera said. “Leads to a facility in the Great Sand Sea near the Libyan border. The upper level of the complex is where we discovered you in hiding.”
“But we’re under the pyramids,” Grace said. “Isn’t the Libyan desert hundreds of miles west.”
Kavera nodded.
Ben was impressed. It looked as if the room were only a few feet away. “This outer space spy stuff is slick. Very scary, but seriously slick!”
Lights exploded beyond the entrance to the hall. The chamber filled with enormous metal crates, electronic equipment and thousands of gleaming glass tubes. The door to the chamber glowed and shut once the operation ceased. A single Xenobian warrior broke formation, placed a medallion on the door then rejoined his team. Symbols on the seal alternately turned on and off.
“I thought there wasn’t going to be another mission,” Ben said.
“There won’t,” Uncle Henry said through gritted teeth.
“Look at all that stuff they’re unloading. If you ask me, it looks like they’re planning to stay.”
“I didn’t ask you,” Uncle Henry said, gruffly.
Ben sucked in a lung full of air. Luckily, Grace picked up the slack.
“But if they’re bringing stuff down and there aren’t going to be any more ships coming to rescue us then that means,” she gasped. “They’re on a suicide mission?”
“So it appears,” Uncle Henry said, under his breath.
A power surge hit the control room. Uncle Henry called up schematics of the complex on a nearby console. Life support was being restored to deserted sections of the facility.
The Xenobian team remained in formation as the transport beam erupted into new bursts of blinding light — this time gold and red. Rapid explosions rocked the platform, like a fireworks display with flares extending in all directions. Sparks showered over the team and floated into the pool below. The room shook from the energy output. The Xenobian team dropped to their knees and lowered their heads. Both Uncle Henry and Kavera seemed confused and leaned forward to study the transport beam more closely.
“Is it a malfunction?” asked Ben in a panic, remembering how the Vatican outpost looked after it was destroyed. “Are we under attack?”
Kavera furrowed his brow and seemed perplexed. Two brief shakes of his head gave the answer. No. He raised a finger to his lips to indicate silence was in order.
The eruption subsided. A single person appeared, accompanied by a large black panther. The leader saluted the team, then removed her helmet to reveal a dark-skinned woman with shoulder length hair.
“Who’s that?” asked April.
A smile crept up the side of Kavera’s face. “Perhaps our salvation.”
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
Aurelia
“A spirit of harmony can only survive if each of us remembers, when bitterness and self-interest seem to prevail, that we share a common destiny.”
Barbara Jordan
“Is that Sondar?”
Uncle Henry’s expression hardened. “No. It is not.”
“So who is it?” asked Ben.
“A Shaman.” Uncle Henry almost spit out the words.
“A what?”
“A healer,” Kavera whispered, clearly trying not to antagonize Ben’s uncle. “Our High Priestess. She took your mother’s place as head of the religious caste when your mother joined the mission.”
That jolted Ben. His mother? An extraterrestrial High Priestess?
Flanked by three massive guards, the slender woman walked toward them with long, graceful strides. Her piercing dark brown eyes flickered with green and blue highlights. She was, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman Ben had ever seen. The panther accompanied the group, its indigo fur casting an iridescent sheen.
Kavera dropped to his knees and lowered his head as the woman approached. Following his lead, Ben and April did the same. Uncle Henry stayed rigid and upright, legs apart, hands on his hips, his knife revealed and at the ready.
“Why isn’t he bowing?” whispered Ben.
“He doesn’t have to,” whispered Kavera.
The woman did not appear to be intimidated by Uncle Henry’s show of force. Strapped to her narrow waist was a knife of her own. The elaborate jeweled handle jutted out of a leather sheath. The woman placed her palm on Kavera’s forehead, gestured for him to stand, and brushed his cheek affectionately. She repeated the process with Ben and April. Ben felt a sense of calm wash over him.
The panther circled Aris and growled as if sizing him up for dinner. Ben watched Aris’s muted reaction with a certain amount of satisfaction. Aris growled back and grew twice as large as the panther.
Ben’s eyes nearly jumped out of their sockets. His friend’s jaws dropped to the floor.
“Did you see that?” Stunned, Ben choked on his words, gasped for air and pointed. “How long has Aris been able to do that? Has Aris always been able to do that?”
Kavera unleashed a hearty laugh. “He showed great self-restraint after you threw him in the whirlpool. You are quite fortunate, Benjamin. Aris is a Xenobian cat, but he possesses a Casmirian temperament. We kept him here at the Harbor until he gained control of his anger. Be grateful that his bedroom presents were the extent of his response.”
Aris gave Ben a sideways glance and, with a slow growl, bared enormous fangs.
“Whoa!” Carlos stepped back. “Guess we need to be careful about making Aris mad, too!”
Aris dropped to the floor and assumed a submissive posture until the panther’s inspection was over. Afterwards, he rose, purred affectionately and returned to his Earth size. The panther returned to the Xenobian leader. Ben’s friends approached Aris with simultaneous exclamations of “Wow! You’re like a superhero cat!” Aris seemed pleased with the attention.
“Jemadari,” The woman knelt briefly.
Ben blinked and rubbed his eyes. He was tired. He had to be. She had not moved her lips.
Having overcome their shock at Aris’s shape shifting skills, Ben’s friends returned to watching the new arrivals. Grace, Serise and April had taken an interest in a young Hayoolkáál warrior who stood guard near the transport platform. Carlos appeared captivated by the electronic equipment being unloaded by the Casmirians. No one paid attention to the conversation between Uncle Henry and the woman except Kavera. Uncle Henry turned abruptly and glowered.
“If you will excuse me,” Kavera said. “It appears I am needed elsewhere.” He kept his gaze on the woman who winked at him. She crossed her arms across her chest, dipped her head reverentially, then glanced at her guards. They lined up behind Kavera and departed.
April tugged on Uncle Henry’s robe. “Can we go with Kavera?”
“Yes,” he said, keeping his eyes fixed on the mysterious woman. “But wait until the last transfer is complete. And stay out of their way. These warriors apparently have work to do.”
