The Last Night Chapter 17 A Dirt Path

The Last Night 

Chapter 17

A Dirt Path

49

    Wyatt was mesmerized by the sun -streaked panorama of stately pines and sprawling arthritic oaks racing past his eyes, as their driverless altered gravity hover craft careened down the four miles of rock and dirt that led to Candice Crown, a small but thriving ‘mixed’ city. 

    Purposely located between Terran and Alurian territories.  It seemed Captain Fletch wanted to isolate them from the more terran parts of the planet and the other ‘normal’ refugees, hence the small private shuttle usually reserved for dignitaries. It was, no doubt, another dig at the doctor masquerading as an honor. But his pathetic slap at her would only make her effort to help Wyatt that much easier.

  Martha scrutinized her son. His features lifted and drooped as they sat comfortably seated in the cushy circular couch of the spacious ceramic egg like craft.

  “Wyatt,” Martha’s tone soft but questioning. “How old were you when you. ‘Left earth’?”

    He jumped at the sound of her voice. She was seated right beside him, staring out the craft’s sun shaded translucent dome. Both struggling to see what he was so desperate to find. His phantom wife. 

  “Early twenties,” Wyatt answered, “Ariel was about the same age.”

  “Yes,” Forrest said, who sat beside Siss and directly across from his wife and son. 

  “I remember that from my,” he stopped and glanced at Martha, “our dream.”

    “Yes I remember that too, just trying see if our dream was truly shared.” Martha said.

  “Or trying to punch holes in my story.”

  “No Wyatt, it’s just so hard to believe the unbelievable. I just want to make sure we’re not fooling ourselves or being tricked somehow. The dream, our dream feels like a dream and nothing more. But yours’ doesn’t.”

  “It’s my memory Mom, of my other life, a clear precise memory. It all happened. It was real. That’s why it hurts so much. I know Ariel is out there somewhere. She is no fantasy. So yes. I actually lived twenty -three years in three days!”

  49

 “Does anyone think the Strion Concord are somehow behind this?” Siss asked. “But, they do not possess any kind of teleportation technology, much less mind control techniques.”

“That we know of.”

 “Oh, I would know Forrest.”

  “You’re, ah, abilities.”

   “You can say it Forrest, my tentacles.”

   He blushed.

   “And now you’re red too.” Siss teased.

  “Not on purpose.”

  “Forrest!”

   “It’s okay Martha, I was just trying to lighten the mood. I love my tentacles, especially when other species react to them.”

   “You’re a bit mean.” Martha replied.

  “Just a bit. But back to the point, We Alurians can sense energy spikes, even the slightest ripple, so when Wyatt disappeared and I didn’t sense it coming, well to use an old earth idiom it was a ‘big deal’.”

    “Fascinating.” Wyatt added, assuming his allusion would go unrecognized.

  “Spock.” Forrest said without thinking.

   “Yeah.” Wyatt said through a spreading grin.

  “Spock? What is Spock?” Siss asked.

  “A character from an old, really old TV show.” Martha answered. “How could I remember that? I know how.” She mused. “Still struggling to embrace though.” 

   “This is fascinating.” Siss replied, just before the hover craft’s dust trail faded behind them when it slid up the paved incline that led to the elevated city Candice Crown. Crown being the common word for hills and low mountains on Terratu.

   The woods soon gave way to a neatly manicured apron of grass. Such grass fields encircled most Terratuan cities. The Alurians loved their greenery, which had a lot to do with ancient earth trees growing on Terratu.

50

  The city; a square mile of perfectly symmetrical blocks separated by deep black asphalt streets. Saucer shaped hovering street- lights gently wobbled over each block, idling while they waited for the sun to sink and darkness to rise.

  They whizzed past several blocks of beautifully landscaped yards replete with perfectly manicured lawns, trees and concrete igloos. The housing was typical Alurian post war residential dwellings. However, the further one traveled from Alurian territories the higher the buildings. Such Architecture was considered nothing more than childish Terran hubris, by most Alurians. 

    High rise multi-level structures of any kind were frowned upon. Not only were they considered unstable and fragile, easily destroyed targets, but a painful reminder of tragic losses and promises shattered. Earth’s defenses miserably failed to protect not only Alurian interest but most importantly Terran lives as well as Alurian.”

   “Up then down.” Said Siss, “It should only be a few more blocks.”

   “Something about this city reminds me of a miniature golf hazard.” Wyatt mused aloud. “And there’s a hole at the top? And we’re the golf ball. Am I right?”

    Siss, momentarily distracted by the cheerful sight of a group of Alurian and Terran children playing tag beneath the leafy embracing limbs of a great oak rising from the  center of a nearby yard, didn’t hear him at first.

   “Doctor?”

  “Oh. What?”

  “Doesn’t this place remind you of a. oh never mind, you probably don’t know anything about miniature golf, do you.”

  “No but…”

  “What’s that?” Wyatt asked, pointing at something high and deep within the massive tree’s boughs. “It’s gone.”

  “What’s gone.”

  “Something white, and fuzzy.”

  “A bird?” Siss replied, “They imported heron and ebrets from Alura and Terra decades ago.”

  “No.” said Wyatt, “no wings,” he looked back at the tree as it shrank behind them, “arms, legs white dress and long white hair. It was no bird. It was Ariel!”