427. Quietus

"The time has come. Call our brother home."

376. Reu-nion

No I would not give you false hope
On this strange and mournful day
But the mother and child reu-nion
Is only a motion away, oh, little darling of mine.

(Lyrics: Paul Simon)

Kyra and Ariel held hands as John (and Von) departed, her little hand gripping Kyra’s finger tighter and tighter as her father vanished from sight in the isabelline haze. The two stood frozen in silence, each as alone as together, watching the empty fog as if thoughts were ice. As Kyra made a motion to leave, quick as lightning, Ariel snapped her arms around Kyra's leather clad leg as one might hug a tree, her tiny feet firmly planted on the top of Kyra’s black boot. Kyra looked down and smiled. Ariel avoided eye contact. Walking as if in a three-legged race, the two trounced about the transport's steel floor, fear camouflaged with giggles, energy fueled by avoidance.

“Ariel, will you excuse me for a minute?” Kyra quickly added, “I’ll be right back. Promise.”

“Can I come with you?”

“Would you like to go on a special trip?”

“Where?”

“Give me a minute. I need to ask permission.”

--

“Granted.” (The Unknowns)

--

“Ariel, did I ever tell you about my mother?”

“No.”

“Well, I lost my mother too. And you know what I miss the most?”

“What?”

“I didn’t have the chance to say goodbye. I wanted to tell her that I loved her.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Long story, but let me ask you this. I want you to listen very carefully because I need you to understand what I am asking. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“I have a gift, a special ability. I can’t use it very often but I think I would like to offer it to you.”

“I like gifts. Can I have it now?”

“Yes, but before I show it to you I need to explain a few things.”

Kyra talked quietly and Ariel listened, her cherry face aglow in the wonder of things only dreamed. The two knelt together in the center of the transport, holding hands and touching foreheads, as a bright teal glow enveloped them like a snow globe. The rest of the crew claimed the bright light lasted mere minutes. Ariel argued it was hours.

When the light faded and their eyes opened as close together as the bond forming within their hearts, Ariel threw her arms around Kyra’s neck and whispered: “My mom says thank you.”

347. Hue Majestic

Where her form fitting melanic leather began and her sable hair ended could not be ascertain in the cold periwinkle cast. Upon bended knee the halo of niveous light, a via lactea of effervescent life, touched her nigrine shoulders as sovereign to knight on carpet coquelicot and crown aeneous. Scintillating upon her sapphire eyes, as festive lights coruscating on snowy windows, a language unknown to the common mind communicated, imbued, gifted knowledge and skill. Her arms, as wings, rose with supplicating palms upward and upon those palms, twin holographic images danced and whirled, her hands glowing as natural and supernatural embraced.

321. Round the Horn

Trev: Driven by unspeakable shame, he inexplicably heads back to see Sal. Rain slashes his face as a vicious wind whips a steel gray sky. He doesn't notice.

Mairi: Unconscious on the cold floor, her head in a small pool of dark blood. She tried to stop Trev from going. He punched her in the face.

Emy: Her new found sensitivity to sound is driving her insane. She is currently floating her agitated arse in an isolation chamber. She holds her brooch in her hand, realizes she can no longer see her mother and starts to punch the side of the chamber. No one can hear. Blood drips from her knuckles. She starts to smile as salt stings her open wounds.

Cait: Sitting in the study with the Commander and Tom. She has been informed of the circumstances and looks on as the Commander outlines his plan. When the Commander mentions Kyra, Cait stands up and yells, "I will not have that bitch in my house!" Ariel appears in the doorway and all three adults turn in unison toward the small child.

Kyra: On her way to Duckhead. She is the plan. She sits in meditative silence on the private transport oblivious to the multi-hued lights flashing by.

Von: Refused to take no. He is with Kyra. His left hand has a firm grip on his right. It shakes anyway.

Rog and John: Making idle conversation. The Matutinal Mercy has not yet been delivered. The room is ice cold. Neither notice.

Yul: Still in hospital. Too high to wonder why. Too low to care.

Kieran: Closely watching events unfold.

The Unknowns: Closely watching Kieran.

297. Be Yourself

Kyra: (looking up into the light) What do you want from me?

Unknown #1: Be yourself.

Kyra: (looks confused)

Unknown #2: Drop everything you think you know. Knowledge will only confuse you.

Kyra: So what do I do?

Unknown #1: Be yourself.

Kyra: What does that mean?

Unknown #2: Just. No more. No less.

Kyra: I don't understand.

Unknown #1: Understanding is an facade. Let it go.

Kyra: How?

Unknown #2: Don't pick it up.

Kyra: (hangs head)

Unknown #1: (whispers to Unknown #2)

Unknown #2: Resistance Kyra is the source of your pain. Hold on, and you will suffer.

Kyra: (balls her fists and cries out) I am my resistance!

Unknown #1: No more than a butterfly is her cocoon.

293. The Unknowns

The concern over Kyra notwithstanding, the crew had much to celebrate. After all, prayers had been answered, how had not been discussed, but six days became seven and seven eight and everyone was just a little too overjoyed to tempt fate with questions.

John poured four glasses of amsec and handed one to Rog, one to Von and the last to Em. Lifting his crystal flute to the center, the others followed suit, the four golden glasses shinning like a chandelier as eyes looked upward for words to be spoken. A toast, he said as his voice trailed off.

What started as a slight vibration, a disturbing ripple across nectar held high, held firm, grew, exponentially; and in an instant, amsec rained down with shards of crystal and their small vessel rocked as if the hand of a giant had slapped the hull. As the four struggled to get to their feet, a second concussive wave knocked them down again as a young boy might shake a box of toy soldiers. Lights blinked and klaxons wailed and as quickly as the vessel was hit, stillness returned.

Rog yelled, although he didn’t need to, “I thought you said we had shields?”

John yelled back. “We do!” Picking himself up, his sea-legs betrayed him and only his strong arms kept his head from banging the control panel. “Our systems must be down?”

“What?” asked Rog.

“I said our systems must be down. Not a threat within a parsec, the screen is blank.”

“Blank?” said Von.

“Nada.”

Rog took the pilot’s seat. Then a low vibration, almost a moan wafted over the comms followed by a sickly gurgling sound. “What the—“

The hair on the back of Von’s neck stood up. Before anyone could react, a blood curtling scream, unmistakable in tone, permeated the room.

“My Janus,” cried Von. “Its Kyra.”

Unknown #1: We put her at great risk.

Unknown #2: We have no choice.

Unknown #1: Are you prepared to lose her?

Unknown #2: (with hesitation) Yes.

“Open the frailing door!” screamed Rog, his nerves frayed by the unworldly cries from within Kyra’s room, his hands bloodied from effort.

“It won’t budge,” screamed John back.

“Move!”

“Won’t do any good,” interjected Von.

“What?”

“The door will open when it is ready to open. You’d just as soon change the fabric of reality as to pry it apart.”

“Are you suggesting we just sit here?”

“I’m not suggesting anything. I’m telling you the matters at hand are beyond our ability to influence. Take that as you will.”

“So what do we do?”

“Bow our heads and pray we see our girl again.”