THE PRESENT

Shepherd turned the key in the lock and entered the darkened room. A second later, wall sconces set at regular intervals flared to life, revealing a large room lined floor to ceiling with shelves jammed full of books of all shapes and sizes. “The Prophet landed some 300 miles away. Smashed through the roof of a young couple named Swenson. The item was mistaken for a children’s toy and left with them. I was fortunate my private investigator found it before your group did.”

A massive wooden table occupied the center of the library. A sleek metal briefcase with an electronic locking mechanism lay on its polished surface. “Twenty years I’ve had the item, seeking to unravel its mysteries.”

“Have you succeeded? Is that why you’re willing to sell now?”

Shepherd’s walking stick hooked the metal case’s handle. He pulled it toward him. “We made significant progress in determining the mechanics of the thing, but that’s of limited interest. Most of its potential uses have been eclipsed by modern military technology. It’s the item’s unique origins that made understanding it a worthwhile endeavour.”

Laying the walking stick on the table, Shepherd picked the case up in both hands. His face held no hint of his earlier jolliness.

He hesitated, then abruptly shoved the case into Dawn’s hands. “The combination is 090449.”

Setting the case on the table, Dawn tapped the numbers into the keypad beside its lock. The lock accepted the combination with a cheerful beep. With an audible click, the case lid flipped open. She looked down at the item she’d pursued for so long. “Finally,” she murmured.

She shut the case and pulled a sleek portable computer from her carryall. “I’ll start transferring the funds right now.”

“There’ll be no need for that,” said Shepherd.

Dawn’s nostrils flared. Her eyes weren’t cold now; they burned with emotion. “We had a deal.” Her fingers closed around the metal case’s handle. Her eyes darted around the room, assessing potential avenues of escape.

Shepherd removed a small device from his ear and tossed it on the table. “I’m sorry, my dear. I had an ulterior motive in telling you all those stories. I needed to delay you a bit while the scans were analyzed.”

“Scans?”

“You were subjected to a battery of surveillance when you entered the building. I had to be sure, you see. Had to know for a certainty that you were her.”

“Her?”

“Shepherd was my Aunt’s name. She adopted me after my father was killed. His name was Stephen Birne.”

Dawn said nothing.

“You gave him great joy,” said Shepherd. “And I thank you for that, even though every moment he spent with you was time I went with neither mother nor father.” She started to speak, but he waved her into silence. “I’m not interested in vengeance.”

“Then what are do you want?” She gestured at the metal case. “More of these?”

“Oh, no. What you’re holding is all but obsolete, from a military standpoint.”

“Then let me go.”

“You may go any time you wish.”

“And the tool?”

“Is that what it is? A tool?”

“I won’t leave without it.”

“I wouldn’t want you to. It is yours after all.”

Dawn’s face creased in confusion. “Then…what do you want?”

“I had some hope that we might talk.”

“We have talked,” snapped Dawn.

“No. I’ve talked, and at considerable length, which I’m afraid is what I tend to do in the presence of a beautiful woman who doesn’t say much herself.”

Dawn swivelled and walked quickly towards the door. She held the metal brief case against her chest; the computer she left on the table.

Shepherd called after her. “Before you do anything too rash, you should know I have many resources. I have connections in the highest branches of the military, the industrial sector, the scientific world.

“I know what the Church of Celestial Consciousness is doing. I can help you.”

The words stopped her in her tracks. She turned to face him. Carefully enunciating each word, she said, “What do you want?”

“Answers. Answers to the questions the item asks but cannot alone answer. Who are you? How long have you been here? Why are you here? Why is your cult building an interstellar communications system?” He paused, then added, “The item doesn’t actually ask that, but I am curious.”

Neither spoke for a time. Shepherd watched, fascinated, as Dawn’s eyes grew wide and black. Her body seemed to fold in upon itself, collapsing, then rising again in a dramatically different shape. Her skin was green now, she was shorter, her walk included a little leap at the end of each step, a small but somehow utterly inhuman motion.

The alien spoke, its voice hollow and distant. “I’ve had many names. Verity. Elizabeth Dunkirk. Specimen A. My real name is Kai Chak Ra.

“Over one hundred and twenty years ago, I was in the crew of a transport that crashed on your planet. The ship was the property of a race called the Caste. As I belonged to a species the Caste had conquered, so was I.

“Several worlds organized a resistance movement to battle the Caste. I was in a network that supplied information about Caste movements. Resistance ships came here, hoping to retrieve the Caste transport’s remains.

“It was deemed vital no Caste technology fall into Earther hands. If the Caste knew you existed, your planet would fall under their dominion, assuming it wasn’t destroyed outright.”

Kai Chak Ra held up the metal case. “This is the last remaining piece of Caste technology on your planet.”

“You’ve been searching for it all these years? Surely its capabilities are not so great that its existence means anything?”

“It may mean little to your species or even to mine, at this point. But it means the world to me. Nearly one hundred years ago, I lost contact with the Resistance. I don’t know what happened. The Caste may have forced them into hiding. They may have been wiped out. I only know that I will live a long time, and I do not expect to ever see one of my own kind again.”

Kai Chak Ra looked at the case, her face twisted with loathing. “I was tasked with locating and destroying this detritus. And I will, the moment I regain contact with my people. Until then, this is all that remains of the life I once had.”

“And you would do anything to get it back,” murmured Shepherd thoughtfully, pinching his lips between two fingers.

Kai Chak Ra shook her head. “I can’t risk trying to contact my people. The Caste could be alerted to your world’s existence.” She paused, considering her words. “My Church’s monitoring stations are passive. They listen for a signal that tells me my people yet live.”

Shepherd reached out, gently taking the alien’s free hand in both of his. “That is…an amazing story.”

“I have many stories. I’ve never told any of them.”

“I hope someday you might consider telling them to me,” said Shepherd. “I would be very interested to hear about your life on this planet, and off of it.”

He released her hand. “My offer stands. I will do whatever I can to help you. All you need to do is ask.”

The Alien’s features shifted. Shepherd shook his head, amazed by her transformation from alien creature to the Church of Celestial Consciousness’ Second Great Prophet.

“Before you go,” said Shepherd, “I want you to know, I loved my father, but what he did to you was wrong. No apology can give you those years back, but I want you to know how sorry I am.” After an awkward silence, he added, “I do hope I will see you again.”

“I think you will,” Kai Chak Ra said.

She left the room, carrying a piece of herself she hadn’t been sure was missing.

 

Published by Platinum Studios Comics. © 2006 Platinum Studios, Inc.