[font=Lucida Sans Unicode]The silver, crescent-shaped ship dove boldly into the phosphorescent atmosphere and activated the seeker drone. The drone, a small black bullet, flew off determinedly, streaking straight down toward the planet. The pilot had preprogrammed it with all the pertinent details of the quarry, and it was hot on the trail.
Suddenly he went into a panic, casting visually about the cockpit. Did he remember his harvesting permit? The authorities would insist on checking it in order to leave the planet with his cargo. Sure, he could try to dodge their patrols but that would be dangerous. He could be marked and he was no smuggler, he was a legal trader.
Now where was that gederiscett permit? Ah, there it is under his log; he could see it sticking out, the then edge of the bright green alloy on which it was inscribed betraying its hiding place. He sighed in genuine relief, absently matched his ship heading with the seeker transmission, locked it in. Now he could feel free to sit back and enjoy the growing landscape of this gorgeous gem of a planet. (He just hoped the man was worth the trip.)
[font=Lucida Sans Unicode]Ryan Manniks was on the quiet edge of desperation. His wife of twelve years had died recently and he was not adjusting to that fact well. He could still see her walking around the house, feel her next to him in bed at night, taste her lips on his... It was insane, he was insane… or close to it. He just didn’t know how to move on.
They had never had any kids and so there was no-one to commiserate with him, no-one for him to cling to in his grief. His mom had been the only real family he had; she had died several years prior. (He had never known his father and he was an only child.) Her mother never liked him even when she was alive. Now she seemed to relish blaming him for her death. Yes, he had been driving but the accident had been the other guy’s fault. It was written plainly in the traffic report.
Fact is, his new life without Shell was not working. Each day of each month of the past three, he had awoken in the morning scrambling frantically to find a reason to get up and go on with life. Some days it worked, some days it didn’t. His business was in dire straits for he was completely inattentive. It was going down the toilet and he really couldn’t find it in himself to care. He just wanted to run away, go somewhere far away, be somebody else for awhile… forever…
[font=Lucida Sans Unicode]Ryan had had enough. It was just too damn painful. His life was no longer a thing to enjoy but a thing to destroy. He took his 44 mag down by the lake. Looking into the stars he tried to recall his last moment of pure untainted happiness. He didn't even know. He couldn't see through the pain that far into the past.
The six-footer sat down on the white stone bench that graced the banks of the softly rippling lake. He remembered putting in this bench for Shell. She enjoyed nights by the lake. That was it! He suddenly recalled the last time he had been truly happy! It had been here on this bench, right here with her, two days before the accident.
He sighed and picked up the heavy weapon, flipped it open. Yes, it was loaded. A single shot and it would be over. He closed up the chamber, cocked the hammer and put the barrel against his right temple.
[font=Lucida Sans Unicode]As Ryan pulled the trigger a beam of warm light enveloped him. The cartridge charge didn't ignite however, the gunpowder suddenly soaked with moisture. Mesmerized by the light, Ryan dropped the weapon. It fell, hit the lip of the stone bench and then skittered across the dew-wet grass into the lake.
Now the man felt his body becoming weightless and knew his feet were coming off the ground. His mouth fell open as he rose. He looked up toward the source of the light. There was a silver-colored object of some type hovering over him. The light was emanating from it and he was being gradually drawn toward it.
He had heard a few after-death accounts before but he never imagined the light that so many of the people telling those tales saw was coming from a spacecraft. He smiled at himself. He had to be hallucinating or something. He must have shot himself in the temporal lobe and was truly mad now from the wound. Oh, well... so be it... if insanity wanted him that badly it could have him.
[font=Lucida Sans Unicode]An opening appeared in the belly of the silver, crescent-shaped ship. The man bathed in light rose up into her, and the opening closed, the light blinking out. No-one was there to notice but a screech owl sitting in an old oak tree on the edge of the property. He batted his large luminous eyes once and looked away, unimpressed.
Cargo aboard, the spacecraft sped away at a velocity no earth vessel was capable of.
[font=Lucida Sans Unicode]He had the man in stasis. It was always necessary to start with them in stasis. He attached the device and programmed it, stepped back and took a long look at the individual he had harvested. This would work out fine... he hoped! He brought him out.
“Can you hear me?” he asked, as soon as he saw the eyes begin to flutter. The man looked up and nodded faintly. “You are safe, no need to be alarmed.” He had already set his appearance so that there should be no trouble there. Humans sometimes panicked when presented with unworldly imagery... at least at first. No need to unnecessarily traumatize the individual.
“Who are you?” Ryan asked the older man peering down at him.
“Call me Charlie.”
“Well, okay... now for the sixty million dollar question: where am I?”
Charlie smiled, a gentle warmth playing around his deep blue eyes. “I don't think you would believe me if I told you.”
Ryan cocked his head, “won't know 'til you try, old boy.”
“There is a certain logic to that line of thought.” He sighed, nodded and continued, “You're on my spaceship.”
Memories of the light and being lifted into the silvery object flooded back. The man took a quick look around. He was in a very sterile environment indeed, all shiny steel (or some type of metal), no decorations, no instruments or equipment. Over there was a single open entrance. He seemed to be lying on the same type of metal surface, raised to about waist height. He nodded to Charlie, “I believe you.”
“Good, that is a critical first step.”
“Mind explaining why I am here?”
“Why not?” The first piece of information had been so well received, he decided to push his luck. “You have been harvested.”
“What am I... an ear of corn?”
Charlie laughed, a warm pleasant laugh, “no... you are a man... and now you my apprentice.”
“Your apprentice?”
“Yes, that's right.”
“Okay... well what does that mean exactly?”
“You do not understand this word: apprentice?”
“Well, it's a little archaic but no... I understand it fine... it's the context I'm having trouble with...”
“Ah, I can help with that.” A chair appeared to form out of the wall and move to the older man. He sat down in it and folded his hands in his lap. “I am a master starflyer from the Ka'Osafete Federation. You are to be my assistant in all my endeavors. And you will learn everything I know in the end. You are my apprentice.”
“What if I'm not interested in being your apprentice?”
“But,” Charlie looked genuinely puzzled here, “you threw your life away. It is no longer yours to do with as you please.”
“What?”
“You pulled the trigger on your weapon. If I had not been there you would be dead. Your life was discarded. By Ka'Osafete law I had a right to it.”
Ryan shook his head in disbelief. He had to be dreaming. How could this be really happening. He looked around the room again. Reached up with his right hand and slapped himself in the face. Nope, he sure felt that.
He looked back at Charlie. “So, I am your... slave?”
“That is an inappropriate appellation. Look at it rather as being drafted. You were in the navy of your nation, no?” When the man nodded he continued, “now you are in my navy. When you were in your nation's navy you could not just choose to leave, could you?”
“Not until my enlistment was up...”
“Right! And it is the same here. You may purchase your freedom when your enlistment is up.”
“Purchase?”
“Yes, once you have become a master starflyer like me, I will provide you with a ship of your own. You will owe me the price of the ship plus the price of acquiring you as an apprentice... you see?”
“I see.”
“Good, now rest some... I must tend to the authorities and get us off this planet.”
“Uh, okay...” He had no idea what else to say. He was stunned, his head swam with a thousand thoughts, a million questions. But he had a strange feeling there would be plenty of time for that...
[font=Lucida Sans Unicode]Ryan finally awoke again and rose from his metal bed. The room was just as he had remembered it before. The old man was gone and his chair, presumably, had returned to the wall from whence it had sprung. Nothing in the room to examine, he walked toward the entrance. It was not square or rectangular like doors on earth but irregular -- thin at the bottom, bulging to an oblong shape at the top. A golden glow was emanating from it.
Outside the opening he found himself in a long corridor with three entrances breaking up either wall, from one of which he had just exited. To his left the corridor apparently dumped out into a larger, well-lit chamber; to his right it ended with a dark hole in the floor. He opted for the chamber, it looked more inviting.
Passing several openings as he went, he noticed they were all cookie-cutter clones of the one he had just left; nothing in them but a single metal bed. How odd was that?
Now he reached the far chamber and peered tentatively within. Although made of the same metallic material, instead of the rounded square shape of the other rooms, this one was shaped like a flattened tear-drop with a large opaque section forward through which Ryan caught a breath-taking star vista! Sitting in front of the window (he didn't know what else to call it) was Charlie in one of his silver chairs. Flashing lights and alien writing adorned a tilted table in front of him, set at a comfortable angle for viewing from his chair. He spun around and smiled.
“Welcome to the bridge, Ryan. Please come in.” The old man extended his hand toward one of the walls and a chair detached from it and swung around next to him. He motioned for Ryan to join him there.
“You're going to have to teach me that trick,” he said, taking the proffered seat.
“In due time... in due time...” Charlie agreed, smiled and motioned toward the view of the Milky Way. “So how do you like traveling amongst the stars?”
“Awesome, truly awesome!” he admitted.
“Yes, I never tire of their beauty,” he stated and then pointed to an expanse off to their right. “There is where I am from... see that cluster there. The brighter of the three.”
“Ah, yes... is that where we are going?”
“Oh no... no, no... we have too much work to do for sight-seeing.”
“Ah, yes... work... so what line of work are you in exactly?”
“Oh, various and sundry things. I contract out to different consortia and private interests... sometimes even governments.”
“Ah, a mercenary?”
“That would insinuate that I am belligerent by nature, which is only partly true. My ship can defend herself but I rarely seek martial confrontation. She is no warship.”
“Well, Yoda... since you are the master, when do the lessons begin?” Ryan tried unsuccessfully to keep the sarcasm at bay. Truth be known he was not completely thrilled with his new station in life. It felt like he had been shanghaied. Actually, (he thought on it for a second and mentally nodded), that is exactly what had happened to him.
“Charlie is what you will call me, if you please.” The smile slipped slightly from his face then returned almost immediately. “As for your lessons, they will begin with situational awareness training. I must burst your bubble, I'm afraid. People on earth tend to live in a microcosm of reality and assume that that is all there is. It makes them more comfortable. (And certainly easier to harvest.) But I cannot afford to have you operate like that. You must know what is really going on in your world... at all times. Observe...”
He waved his hand at one of the walls. A transparent image sprang from it and began to play out a story, not unlike a documentary on the History Channel back home. Ryan Manniks watched wordlessly, simply too shocked to find a voice.
[font=Lucida Sans Unicode]During the early days of American expansion, Kentucky was at the nexus of three powerful indigenous tribes. These three people-groups fought over that territory ferociously, for it was rich hunting grounds. Ryan was discovering that, unbeknown to 99.9% of her inhabitants, Planet Earth was in an analogous situation.
Charlie's people-group, the Ka'Osafete Federation (pronounced: COSSA-FEET), was a diverse group of humanoids spread out across several hundred habitable planets throughout the sector. They were mostly merchants and explorers. This federation from what Ryan could understand of it was ruled by a representative form of government.
Ka'Osafetti (COSSA-FEH-TEE) interest in Earth was fairly benign. They respected Terran rights to evolve their civilization unhampered by outside influence. And, while not all Ka'Osafetti were moral and good people, the government as a whole seemed to be. It had been in contact with the major powers of Earth for several decades. Consequently, there was a handful of very powerful people down there who knew of the existence of the Ka'Osafetti and trusted them. Accordingly, treaties were signed concerning all issues Terran. (Harvesting, for instance, was a practice governed by treaty.)
Another of the people-groups that used Earth and her vast resources were the Massamertes. These were a group of simian-type creatures very close in appearance to the images of Big-foot and Yeti that Ryan had seen in the media for years... It seemed that their main interest was in unhampered access to the vast wilderness areas as their personal hunting grounds. And occasionally they would pilfer a cow or two from irate Terran ranchers. Left up to them, Earth would remain just as it was indefinitely. They harbored a mild disdain toward backward indigenous populations in general and the humans of Earth were certainly included. Accordingly, they generally took what they wanted without asking, it being beneath their dignity to deal with lessor beings.
The last faction was the most sinister. They were the Daakrere, a group of insectoid-like aliens. These were the apparent bullies of the block. They seemed most interested in warfare and conquest and were very good at both. Only a combined treaty of the Massamertes, the Ka'Osafetti and those Terran power merchants that were 'in the loop' were able to keep the belligerent Daakrere at bay. Unfortunately, these barbarians at the gate were constantly jockeying for position... trying ever more devious devices, ever more Machiavellian methods for gaining the end they so earnestly sought: sole and exclusive possession of the Earth.
By the time the lesson was over Ryan was wishing he could somehow get back into his nice comfortable little bubble of ignorance. He had a feeling that was not going to be possible... and he was right.
[font=Lucida Sans Unicode]Ryan turned to his master he was already hating that word and asked a question that was suddenly irking him: Exactly how did you know that I was going to try to off myself?
Off yourself?
Yeah, take my own life. He shook his head in disbelief, I mean you were not there by coincidence... by your own admission you were there to harvest me, so how did you know?
Oh, Charlie laughed his trademark laugh, now I see what troubles you. Yes, I knew you were going to kill yourself. I purchased the information.
Ryan narrowed his eyes, purchased it from whom? Who on earth would know that I was going to try that?
Well no-one on Earth but there is a Ka'Ossafetti firm that specializes in watching the future of planets that are under-developed.
Watching the future?
Yes, that's right, he nodded adamantly, watching the future.
You mean... things just kept getting more difficult to swallow, time-travel into the future?
If you prefer that phrase, yes.
So someone went into my future and read about the details of my suicide.
Yes, that's right. And I purchased the information from the company that read it. That was how I knew exactly when, where and how.
Ha... well you sneaky little bastard.
The extraterrestrial pursed his lips, narrowed his eyes and thought for a moment, then responded. You are in error, sir. My mother was legally attached to my father at the time of my birth.
Well, I'll be damned... by all means, excuse me for passing bad rumors about you...
You're forgiven, he arose suddenly. Next on our schedule is a brief tour of the ship. He turned and walked off, no doubt expecting his apprentice to follow along docilely in his wake...
[font=Lucida Sans Unicode]Ryan watched the old man waltz out of the room, but his own pensiveness retarded his immediately following. He had always been intrigued by the question of time travel, although he was a huge skeptic. He simply had never believed it possible. He was having trouble getting his mind around it now.
One question in particular kept rattling around in his head. How could a society capable of time-travel function? For instance, in business or the stock-market, you make a mistake you simply leap back in time and fix it... or you simply leap forward to see what company makes a mint, return to your time, invest all you've got and clean up! What kept people from doing that? He had to know...
He rushed out into the corridor and almost ran headlong into Charlie patiently awaiting him there. Before we proceed with the tour, he said, I have some more questions about time-travel.
Charlie smiled warmly, listened intently as Ryan laid out his case for the potential machinations of the technology in a working society. Then he asked a question of his own. Does your world have technological capabilities that could prove dangerous if used unwisely?
Ryan blinked once and answered, why... of course... practically every advance in science brings inherent dangers...
And how does your world keep these dangers from actualizing?
Uh... well, laws and regulations that govern their use, I suppose...
Yes... it is the same with us, he announced. But there is more... the very fabric of time self-governs to a degree. For instance, travel into the past is impossible or I should say travel backwards in a single time-stream is impossible. Do you understand this phrase: Time-stream? Ryan shook his head absently. Time is like a flowing body of water, like a stream on your Earth. Now suppose you are in a tiny watercraft on this stream. If you leap straight up as high as you can and forward that is: downstream you may land back in the vessel fairly easily. Now, do the same upstream. You will likely get wet.
Ah... Ryan nodded. That made sense.
You see, there are too many variables in time. Travel backwards lands you on a parallel stream instead of your own. We actually utilize this principle as a form of entertainment on my world, much like your reality TV fad. They send a probe back several decades and watch what it broadcasts. It is generally quite amazing.
So what about travel forward into the future?
That is much more stable. As I said, you can jump forward in a small boat much more safely and with more certainty about where you will land. But the laws of probability still apply. For instance, in your case, if I had been able to look into the future a moment before you pulled the trigger there would have been dead sorry for the pun certainty of the exact outcome. But looking forward a day would introduce some minor variables, a week even more, and in a month the variables would most likely begin to alter events dramatically.
Yeah... that's logical. I was an Operations Specialist in the navy. First thing I learned is that distance magnifies errors. A two-degree error in course can translate to several yards a mile away and several miles, a hundred miles away. You can miss your destination that way.
You have the principle, he nodded and patted his apprentice on the shoulder affectionately, then turned and continued on his trek.
Ryan shook his head in amazement. That dapper little alien fellow had just managed to gain several notches on his 'wise-beyond-his-years' meter. He even found himself much less irked by his circumstances than before, for the man was quite an exceptional teacher. Damn! He supposed this meant he would have to stop calling him Yoda! Too bad, he really enjoyed his own sarcasm at times...