MAYA:

A Science Fiction Odyssey

by A. D. Jackson

PART 8

The low, deep, weary, groan grated at Jenna's nerves. It wasn't Palmer per se that made her feel that way. She felt everything. The light breathing of the still unconscious Dr. McGrath. A heavy smell wafting from some unknown location. Flowers. The rustling of Palmer's clothes as he sat up from the flat stone bed similar to the one she had laid upon earlier. The rapidly beating heart of Mikitrick, the exhaled air whistling through the coarse hairs of his mustache.

The distant yet strong smell of blood.

"Where…," Palmer began, groggy throat quivering.

"Are you okay?" she said, moving from across the room. She wore her scuba outfit loosely hanging from her hips. The tank top shirt she wore was more than enough for her. The room was extremely hot. "You've looked better."

"I've felt better," he said. He stood, his legs visibly shaking. Jenna could see it, smell it, sense it. The blood rushed to his head, flushing his face red, and causing him look to steady his balance. He leaned backward, placing his hand back on the table, then planted himself back down. "How long have I been out?"

She laid a hand on his shoulder. "I don't know for sure. But it's been a least a day since I've been awake, that you…all of you have been unconscious."

"What about you?" he said rubbing his head. "You look okay. But…"

"I don't feel okay? I know. I feel…" she said backing away from him now. Palmer Reed, her closest friend for the past nine years. She couldn't bear to touch him. "I don't know if I've ever felt this way before. I know I haven't."

Palmer looked all around him, casing the room. It was still dark, but not nearly as dark as when Jenna had first awoken. There were oil-burning lamps hung from three locations of the ceiling, casting just enough light to make their way around the room.

The three others still lay on their tables. Arms to their sides, scuba outfits still hugging closely to their bodies. The room was circular, with four large semicircular supports rising from the floor to the ceiling.

"Where are we?" he asked.

Jenna took his hand and led him toward a small doorway that hid in the shadows. The walked down a black hallway, weaving and turning, Jenna navigating them through the darkness as though she could see. Finally Palmer caught a glimpse of light at the end. It grew brighter and brighter as they drew closer. Finally they reached the entrance.

The light was so bright even closing his eyes caused him great pain as they attempted to adjust. He shied backwards, his arm raised above him, shielding his eyes from the intensity of the distant sun.

The light began to fade. He could make out something now. Dark shapes against a white background. Colors appeared. Green. A blue sky. Gold.

He opened his eyes all the way.

Before him stretched a fantastic golden city. Pyramids, buildings, and domes of stone, and rock, capped with a rich deep yellow hue that radiated as the sun glinted from its surface.

"Atlantis," Jenna said. He held his hand tighter. "We are in Atlantis."

Palmer looked at her with the most stupefied, dumfounded expression she had ever seen.

"Don't worry," she said. "It's ridiculous. I don't even believe it myself."

 The Valkerie

A tangled mass of twisted metal and wires covered Truman. Salty, warm liquid filled his mouth. Blood. Tangy. He reached a free hand to wipe the dried bit spilling from the corner of his split lip. Sparking wires danced and popped, a small amount of smoke clinging to the floor.

Gravity. He hadn't felt a pull this strong since he'd last walked on Earth. For the first time in a near a month he didn't have to will away the queasiness of a weightless stomach. He kicked the broken Captain's chair away and stood slowly, his legs wobbling unaccustomed to the weight. It would probably be worse for him than for any others going through the same thing. He hadn't had the luxury of being able to exercise in the last few weeks, being confined to quarters. He was able to handle Pluto, but this was all together something different.

He was alive though. That was a good thing for starters. He only hoped the same was true for everyone else.

He attempted to speak, but his body spoke for him instead. "Ugh," he said while rubbing the small of his back. He cleared his throat. "Is…is everyone all right?"

Metal littered the floor. Even so, there seemed to be movement beneath it all. He moved as quickly as he could to lift the piece of metal from his crewmate, a dark, bloodied hand reaching through the cracks.

It was Richardson. Truman lifted a small beam from her arm. It had fallen on top of her wrist and forearm, twisting it in a way that was only possible in a broken limb. He heard her moaning though, and knew at least that she was alive. But for how long he had no idea.

The first beam came off easily. He thrusted it upward, crisply clanging to the side, bouncing violently against the deck. If anyone else was still unconscious, it was sure to wake him or her up. There were two other beams of metal that were a bit harder to raise, as they were twisted in a seemingly unsolvable knot. It did not rest directly on her though Truman discovered, and soon saw that she was actually set in a small alcove, protected from the weight of the scraps above her. Truman reached over grabbing the beam he had tossed aside, and wedged in into the heap. He used the back of her fallen chair as a fulcrum, and pulled down n the beam using it as a lever.

"Get out," he said to her, hoping she was aware enough to help save herself. Slowly he saw her pulling herself out from beneath the wreckage. She held her arm close to her chest as she dragged herself across the floor. Soon she was clear of the debris, and Truman let go, exhausted. The metal smashed down onto the floor and collapsed into itself. Both Truman and Richardson looked at the pile then at each other.

"Whew," Truman said huffing heavily. "That was heavy."

"Ah'm glad ah'm not on the bottom of that right now," Richardson said. "Thanks."

"Your arm is it?"

"Broken? 'Fraid it is. The pain is frightful,"

Truman looked around. Other crewmembers were getting up as well. Most of them looked fine--bloody and bruised, but well enough to function. Richardson on the other hand was another story.

So was Henrickson.

In all the excitement he almost didn't notice the young helmsman sitting slumped in his chair. A solider to the end, he had piloted the ship down to its current resting spot, wherever that may have been.

Truman walked over to check his pulse. He placed two fingers on the thick of his neck. His heart was still beating.

"What the hell are you doing?" Henrickson said to Truman. "If you don't mind, I'm not quite dead yet."

"I thought that you were…"

"I was praying. To the Lord God Almighty."

"Well it's good to know someone is looking out for us," Brickstone said. He was followed by some of the members of his security crew. They stood all around, with weapons drawn. "But sometimes I think it best that we look out for ourselves."

"Meaning?" Truman asked.

"We've got to secure the area. We are on an alien world with all sorts of unknown threats."

"Or nonexistent," Henrickson said. Brickstone shot him a cold look that was fit to kill.

"Ah don't mean ta be breaking up yer Yank pissing contest boys, Richardson said. "But do ya mind helping me? Mah arms broken ya know."

"Anyway, we need to make sure that our ship, and everything on it is secure."

He paused. Waiting for something…Truman didn't know.

Suddenly he realized what Brickstone was waiting for. His orders.

"Makes sense…carry on. I want you to keep me fully informed. Also I'll need someone to compile lists. Casualty reports and system functions."

"I've got a handle on that already sir," Kobayashi said from the entrance to the bridge. Sarah stood beside him. Even in the crisis, Truman could see her hatred toward him.

"It's not looking good. Sir." Kobayashi began. In fact, it's looking downright bad."

****

They sat in the Captains ready room, a large screen lit in a darkened room. The ship's cameras swiveled letting them spy the area of the immediate vicinity. As usual, Henrickson had to break the silence.

"It's a jungle out there."

Thick green vegetation seemed to be everywhere. A canopy of trees stretched outward into the distance. Outside, Brickstone and his men, along with Kobayashi, inspected the damage to the hull.

"Can she fly again?" Truman asked over the intercom. He wore a headset as he talked to Kobayashi.

"Well, the hull, is pretty much intact, except for a few breaches. That much is repairable."

"How long?"

"By the end of the day…" he began. "If that were the only thing we had to repair."

"What else?"

"There are two major hull breaches. One is in the weapons bay, and the other one is near the engine room. We could get her running again. But flying? The kinds of repairs we need to make aren't patchwork ones. She needs a major refitting. Otherwise she might not be able to take the stress. She'd tear up even before we reached orbit."

"Right," Henrickson said. "Giant engines dropping out of the sky. We haven't been here a day and we've already fixin ta litter the place."

"You can't fix it?" Truman said, more to himself than to Kobayashi.

Kobayashi still bothered an answer even though he sensed it wasn't necessary. "Dammit Truman, I'm an engineer, not a doctor," he said smiling.

"Well, we're not staying here," Truman said. "We don't have much of a choice."

"The Lady Grey," Sarah said. "What about the Lady Grey? She's still out there. We don't have to risk out lives needlessly…"

Truman cut her off. "Richardson?"

Richardson sat at the table, her arm bandaged and in a sling. A portable IV stim pack was attached to the belt of her flight suit. "I canna get any type of familiar readings. No SOS, no distress beacons, nothing. And mah guess is, is that with nothing out here save us, it would be pretty hard to stay hidden."

"But, Sarah began. "The Marauders. What about them?"

"Sarah, we barely slipped into that rift," Kobayashi said from outside. "I doubt the pirates could have traveled fast enough to slip in behind us. They wouldn't have had enough time."

"That's just it." Sarah said. "Time. That's what we're dealing with. And right now, we don't have enough of it."

"What is she talkin' about" Henrickson said.

They all noticed the look on her face. Her eyes seemed to have disappeared as though rolled back into her head, her face expressionless and blank.

Truman jumped up and reached for her. "Sarah, Sarah, are you alright?" He shook her, almost too violent. Slowly she seemed to come to. She collapsed back into his arms. He guided her toward the chair behind them. She mumbled something, then seemed to come out of her spell. "Are you all right?"

"The strain of it all." Richardson said. "She should probably still be in sick-bay."

"No…no," Sarah said. "I'm fine. I just…" She slid back into her chair again. "There's something going on. I can't explain it. Not with words. But we have to act. And there isn't much time."

"And just what is it that we are supposed to do?" Henrickson asked. "This is much too weird for me."

"Find the Lady Grey," she said. "it is here. I know it. But there's something else too. That I can't quite grasp. My mind is…"

"Enough," Truman said. "Sarah hon, you need to rest." Sarah merely nodded her head. For the first time in quite a while, she actually seemed to agree with him. There could be only one reason for that. She must have been exhausted.

"Richardson?" Truman said. "See what you can do. "Kobayashi, you've presented us with options. Now give us better ones."

Suddenly Brickstone interrupted.

"Sanders, come in."

"What is it Brickstone?"

"I've got some bad news." His face appeared on screen. The camera mounted behind him closed in. He pointed in toward a somewhat charred and severely damaged section of the hull. "That hull breach in the weapons bay. Well it seems it's a little more than that."

"What?"

"One of the Assimilator missiles. It's gone."

***

ATLANTIS

"You realize this is much too much to even begin to believe don't you?" Palmer said to Jenna. "I mean, this is just ridiculous. Atlantis? Like the sunken continent Atlantis? Like Plato's Atlantis? No way. No way. No way. I'm dreaming. I'm going to wake up and I'll be in my tent…or even better I'll be in my room at home. And I'm watching TV. That's right. There's something on TV and it's spilling into my dream. It must be a documentary or something. That's it

Jenna stood there silently. Watching her closest friend and colleague ramble on.

"You know that's not attractive don't you?" she said. "Now get a hold of yourself Reed. It only gets worse."

"Ah hell." he said. If Jenna didn't know him any better, she thought he would cry.

She directed his sight again out toward the sprawling golden city beneath them. Beautiful spires rimmed with rainbow tinted stone, and large earthen pyramids spotted the distant horizon. Palmer looked closer, finally deciding to accept that what he was seeing was real. It was then that he noticed. There was no movement anywhere. Save perhaps the slight bending and swaying of the tropical looking trees, there was nothing. No people, no vehicles. No animals. Nothing.

The city was dead.

"They brought us here," Jenna said.

"Who?" Palmer asked. "Who brought us here?"

"Them," Jenna replied. She was pointing toward the end of the balcony on which they stood. There were two shapes--shimmering, bodies of translucent light. Palmer could feel it. They were sentient. His already struggling rationale made a series of mental gymnastics just to remain cognizant.

"And umm…," Palmer began to say. "How long have you known about this--these…people?"

"Only for the last few hours or so, since I first awoke. But they are the ones. The voices--the images I saw when I first grabbed the orb." She held it out to him. It seemed more alive that it ever had before. Even though it was motionless, he could swear it moved, or rippled, or something…he couldn't explain it.

"So what's the bad news?" Palmer asked. Jenna didn't know whether it was the look on her face, or just the absolute absurdness of the situation, but Palmer seemed to be catching on pretty fast.

"Well," she stated. "The Earth--not in our time, but an Earth that is to be. They are in danger."

"So why do they need us?"

"Because of this…" she said looking at the orb. "Whoever they are, they need this."

"And we've got it. Great." Palmer slapped his hand to his forehead and threw his head backward. "This is too much. This is just too much." He walked toward the doorway, then paced back toward Jenna. The lights still sat there, shimmering, but he chose to ignore them. It was just too much for him to handle. "And just how are we supposed to give it to these people? Where are they? Who are they? Hell…"." He said not realizing he was yelling. "When are they!"

"They are here…now. We just have to wait for them."

"Great…great." He took a deep breath. "Hey. I'm sorry Jenna. It's just…this is all so unbelievable."

"Believe me…" a voice said from across the balcony. Dr. McGrath and Colonel Mikitrick stood in the doorway. "You won't have to worry about it for very long."

McGrath stood holding a small sidearm aimed at Jenna. Palmer instinctively moved in front of her.

"What the hell?" Palmer said.

Jenna looked into the colonel's eyes. She could see the hollow darkness within.

He suddenly turned toward the creatures of light. "No…you!" he said.

He convulsed. From within his body arose another apparition of light. It hovered above his head. The McGrath collapsed.

Suddenly it sped toward the two other beings. They smashed into each other violently, then went careening over the edge, in a spectacle of sparking lights. Jenna ran to the edge and watched them falling until the light disappeared.

Mikitrick had stood there the entire time, dumbfounded, first then pulled out his gun, in awe of the eerie exorcism.

"What?"

Jenna didn't have a chance to answer.

The rumbling had been there for the last few minutes. She just had been concentrating on the goings on in her immediate vicinity, moving the ominous noise to the background.

From out of the sky lowered a large vessel. It was hovering sideways a first, then slowly turned toward the ledge on which the archeologists stood. Jenna noticed that it was a patched up craft, the size of a large eighteen-wheel truck. Across it's side was stenciled the name, "Prometheus". She knew what it was when she saw it, although she had never seen it, or anything like it before.

"Jump" she said.

No one moved. She pushed Palmer to the edge of the balcony. "Jump!" His eyes conveyed his thought. He wasn't very trusting at the moment. "I'll explain later."

"Are you sure we'll get the chance?"

"Yes!" she said. "Now go." She ran across the balcony and picked up the suddenly unconscious colonel, throwing his arm over her shoulders. She stopped for a moment and turned to McGrath as she dragged the unconscious soldier." "You can stay if you want. In fact I'd prefer if you'd stay." She moved to the ledge. Palmer had already jumped. "This is your last chance."

She pushed a panel on the stone wall then leapt over the edge.

McGrath stood paralyzed. He couldn't bring himself to move as smoke funneled from beneath the belly of the ship. Two silver pills charged forth. They were missiles. He could feel their warmth as they drew nearer. The heat was intense. Finally he felt the fortitude to run. But it was too late. It was only seconds--but for him it seemed like hours. His flesh began to sear, his hair burning. The bright white flash followed by a concussive force. His body was pulverized in an instant. The pain intense. He could not scream. This is impossible he thought. And unlucky. His mind was the last thing to go. The world around him turning to Hell.

   CONNECTIONS

"What was that?" Truman said. "It sounded like, some kind of explosion." He activated the com-link to Brickstone and Henrickson, outside. Richardson in the meantime had jumped to the control panel at her damaged station and tried to read the sensors.

"There's nothing on here, but as broken as it is, I doubt we'll be using this effectively any time soon."

"Sanders," Brickstone said over the con. "Take a look at this."

Apparently, Brickstone was holding the camera on his own. The picture jumped and jittered as he walked closer to the scene he was filming. In the distance just beyond the ring of mountains that lined the valley in which they had landed, a plume of smoke arose. It was small, from where they stood, but still visible. They saw another mushrooming cloud of smoke, followed by a quick clap, then a distance slow rumbling.

"Henrickson," Truman said. "Is the Shuttle still flight worth?"

"Yeah," he replied. "He is."

"Get 'im ready." He said. "We're getting to the bottom of this." He stood from his old friend's former chair. "Kobayashi meet me in the shuttle bay. Richardson, you're in charge." He looked at her arm. "Can you make it? See if you can get this ship moving"

"Aye."

"What about me?" Sarah said. Despite the tumult of the last few hours, she appeared to be the most alive of the lot of them.

Truman almost went with his natural paternal instinct--to protect his child no matter what. But his intuitive inner voice told him otherwise. This was all crazy. Mysterious marauders, hypergates, pyramids on Pluto, and now strange planets…but to all of this madness there was a distinct and definite method. He wanted to find out what it was. Looking at his daughter he realized that she was the key.

Besides, he wanted to keep her as close to him as he could.

"Come on hon." he said. "You're coming too."

***

The Thor fired its rockets and rose slowly from the tilted Valkerie hanger bay. It's vertical ascension suddenly stopped as it hovered over the battered ship.

"She looks worse than we thought." Brickstone said. "Up close she looked flight worthy. From up here she looks like the Titanic on a good day."

Truman felt the same way. Looking at the battered ship. He felt responsible for it being in that condition. If only he had made a few more decisions, or perhaps a few less. Or different decisions all together.

"Richardson," he said over the comm. "Keep an open channel until we get back."

"Aye." she said.

Henrickson aimed the Thor toward the now almost dissipated smoke. Rockets fired and the shuttle began to creep slowly, then faster above the canopy of trees.

Truman looked at his daughter. She looked wide-eyed at the surrounding valley.

She turned and spoke to him as though she had been reading his thoughts. "It's as though I've been here…seen this all before."

"Not unless you're name is Flash Gordon you ain't" Henrickson said looking back at her.

"You just keep your eyes on the road," Kobayashi said. "I don't want to end up face to face with some alien tree because you can't ever take two minutes to shut your mouth." He turned to look at him this time. "And she'd be Dale Arden."

Truman sat concentrating on the instrument panel in front of him. Brickstone sat beside him looking at the dame display.

"It bothers me that we can't pick up anything on the scans," Brickstone said. "This all feels so…orchestrated. There's nothing but seeming jungle for kilometers on end, and yet only our sensors are distorted, not our communications."

Truman held his thoughts within. Only days before Brickstone had been under suspicion for being a saboteur. Truman wanted him along so that he could keep his eye on the man.

"So," Truman said. "Were you able to take a look at the security logs."

"Yeah Sanders," Brickstone said. He obviously did not like Truman still. He refused to acknowledge that Truman were the officer in command of the mission. And he did have a point. Truman had been a strategist for the last twenty years, and had last been in combat twenty five years ago. Brickstone had been in the thick of some of the worst fighting during both Lunar Wars. He knew how to handle himself in combat situations. But even though there may have been a threat that they needed to face, Truman was convinced that they should meet it with open minds, and not with their fingers on the trigger, ready to fire.

He was probably the only one. Most people in his world were bitter, angry and tense. Millions of people in his city lashed out at each other on a daily basis. No wonder there could not be peace. If families couldn't get along, how could nations? He looked at his daughter. Years it had been, and the only reason they were together now was because of a crisis. He swore to himself that when they got back, he wouldn't go a day without telling her he loved her. Whether she hated him or not, he was at least going to make the effort. That was what everyone on earth needed to do, he thought. Like Father Daly had once told him, "We all need to learn to forgive."

"Did you hear me?" Brickstone said.

"Uh, missed that." Truman said. He focused on the display again.

"Somehow it was slipped out right before our entry into this planet's atmosphere."

"Not good." Truman thought for a moment. Silent, but his mind a cacophony of thoughts. "That could only mean one of two things then. Either the missile just vanished, or somebody took it."

"But who?"

"The only ones who have been trying to get it since we left Earth--the marauders and the ACF.

"But we…"

"Can't see them, remember? Our sensors aren't working. They could have slipped in and out before we even knew it. The question is just when and where."

"Hmmm…well, it couldn't have been in the Belt. The pursued us all the way to Pluto, so if they got the one then, they probably would have headed back to Earth by now."

"So it was somewhere near Pluto. Notice anything onboard the ship when we were planetside?" Truman asked.

"Nothing until that gate opened up," Brickstone replied. "But they came in attacking at that point."

"So that means they got it then."

"Huh?"

Truman turned and looked at the Colonel in the eyes. He wanted to see if there was something there. A glimmer of a lie, or a confession written on his visage.

"They stole the warhead then tried to destroy us afterward. It's their MO. Sure, they could have taken the damn thing and run, but the Marauders are akin to ancient day pirates or buccaneers. They thrive on terror and confrontation. Not skulking and secrecy."

"They are here." Sarah said.

"What?" Brickstone replied."

"They are here. I can feel them here. I can see them. The main ship has returned to Earth with the missile. But they've sent a ship after us to obtain the other if they could."

Silence.

"What are they going to do then young lady," Brickstone asked.

"I don't know. I can't see everything. There is so much there I can only focus on a small amount for only a little bit at a time. But they are here." She pointed outside through the forward display. "There!"

Before them lay a large city. It looked old and uninhabited. Trees and greenery had overgrown its boundaries and crept in to take what once it was sure to have reigned over. Every image in Truman's head reminded him of a lost city--ancient and untouched by human hands for centuries…possibly eons.

Untouched but for the Marauder frigate that rocketed above the city's streets.

"Henrickson," Truman said. "Get us down there. Now."

***

Debris rained down from above her head all around them. The ship had fired on the balcony, destroying McGrath, and whatever had been unfortunate enough to be there at the time.

Amid they chaos they fell gently through a column of soft pink light. She did not know how she knew to activate the field, or even what it was. Instinctually she had pressed the panel and an anti-gravity shaft had appeared. Truman Mikitrick were already at the bottom. Debris from the explosion that had gotten caught in the field lightly danced above her head, juxtaposed to the destruction above her. Closer to the ground she came.

She still had the orb. She had been aware enough to keep it with her at all times. Lightly she touched down, little pebbles of rock and marble lightly raining on her head. She stepped out of the light, and was immediately reacquainted with gravity.

"Come on!" Palmer shouted from within a building across the street. He waved her over as the young soldier stood nearby, still recording everything that he saw. Jenna heaved the man over her shoulders and began to run, but stumbled.

Palmer charged out across the vine-covered street, ducking his head as though that could save him from another assault. He grabbed the colonel's arm and tossed it over his shoulder. The two of them dragging the man across the street.

The ship whizzed above them, screaming as the wind and heat blew by. The craft rocketed away from them, then began to turn around. It headed toward them again, although this time the same doors that were open when it fired the missiles were open again.

"This sucks," Palmer said.

The ship grew closer. Jenna stood. Unafraid. She knew something. Closer. She could see the cloud of dust from the street pick up trailing behind it. Closer. They stood in the middle of the road. Vines covered almost everything. The ship was a half mile away now. Suddenly a rush of wind.

A loud explosion sounded above their heads. Palmer tried to look up but was blinded by the intense light. A pill shaped missile flew above them…but it came from behind them.

Jenna looked. Stenciled across the side of the small ship was the name "Thor." The missile headed directly for the other ship. The Prometheus inched upward to avoid impact. It was too late. An explosion rocked the ship, knocking it off kilter. Thick black smoke poured from its side. It inched backward then slowly turned away.

The ship named Thor hovered in the air for a moment. Then after the Prometheus was visibly gone t began to descend vertically fifty feet away. Dirt and small bits of vegetation kicked up everywhere, Jenna squinting so that she could see. The craft landed. Small landing struts tensed downward as the weight of the ship was fully rested upon them.

With a burst of steam a doorway dropped down from the belly of the ship. She heard footsteps. Four sets to be exact. She could discern them all. One male, slightly older and weary, not in the body but in the mind. Another male equally as old, bitter and jaded from years of war. A younger male young and cocky, but talented none the less. The last male was heavier, gentle yet walked crisply down the ramp. And the last was…a female. She knew this one. This was who, of everyone else she has seen, she had seen the clearest.

The younger male stepped to her first. His shock of curly blond hair and somewhat innocent face betrayed the confidence he held within him.

"Take me to your leader," he said.

"Do you always have to crack jokes?" the larger man said. Jenna noticed he must have been from half Japanese decent, hapa as they had called it when she had studied in Hawaii. The other one spoke with a Texan accent. If there had been any doubt where they were from before, there was none now.

"I think I should be asking the same of you," she replied

The older more weary man walked toward her. "I'm Truman. Truman Sanders. Commander in the United Nations Air and Space Administration."

He placed his hand outward. She took it and shook back.

"Jenna Munro," she said. "Very pleased to meet you."

***

"And that's all we know so far," Truman said to Jenna. He had just finished telling her the story of there coming to be there. "It's not much, but it's everything we know so far. What about yourselves?"

"We were diving. Looking for a temple I had discovered previously off the shore of Bimini. When we had returned to find it, somehow we ended up here."

"Sounds even more far fetched than our coming to be here," Kobayashi said.

"Anything unusual…given the circumstances, more unusual than an average unusual day?"

"Well," Jenna began. "When I first discovered the temple, there were things. Like ghosts. I recognized them as priests or something religious. They wore long white robes and were adorned with gold and jewelry. They moved hastily, as though they were in a hurry to finish whatever they were doing before something or someone arrived."

"But you got in the way before they finished." Sarah said knowingly.

"Right Jenna" said. "I was swimming in a large vaulted chamber. A statute rested in the middle of the room. In it's hands shone a crystal orb. It was beautiful. I reached out and took it. The ghosts or whatever they were looked up, some shocked but a few were sullen. Then they slowly faded away and the room went black. I started to panic a bit, not knowing which way was up. But I was able to keep my wits about me long enough to backtrack outside the temple. Above the surface there was a storm. I was tossed and turned in the waters as I tried to find my small boat. But I couldn't. All I knew was I had the orb though. I remember breaking though the waters, holding it tightly in my hand…the next thing I know I was laying on the shore."

"She called me first," Palmer continued. "I flew down there to check things out. We made a dive in the general area she had said she saw the temple but we couldn't find anything. Next thing we know, the Colonel and his boys arrive and not only did we find the temple, but we found ourselves here."

"Do you mind if I hold it?" Kobayashi said to Jenna. He was looking down toward the small side pack she wore strapped over her shoulder. She pulled out the orb and handed it to him. "Hmmm…" he said looking at it closely. "There seems to be some kind of writing or something in the center."

"How can you see it?" Truman asked.

"I'm a nanotechnician. I get paid to look at very small things."

"No comment," Henrickson said.

"I noticed it too, plus this," Jenna said placing a finger on the orb, attempting to guide Kobayashi's eyes toward what she had seen earlier. "See those? Three pyramids, two on the bottom, one on the top."

"Yeah, you're right. I'd like to run it through our computers and see what else I can find."

"If that's okay?" Truman offered to Jenna.

She hesitated for a moment. "Of course."

Kobayashi walked back to the Thor holding the crystal ball up to the sunlight. He looked like some mad professor to Truman.

There it was. The key to all of this. And they were still as clueless as when they had begun. Kobayashi disappeared up the walkway into the shuttle.

"Sanders to Richardson."

"Go ahead Sanders," Richardson replied.

"Kobayashi is going to be transmitting some linguistics information back to the ship. Are you up for any translations?"

"Linguistics? How…"

"It's a long story. But the short of it is, that we have some guests…or partners I should say rather. We'll be heading back toward the ship, but could you get working on it ASAP?"

"Sure, no problem." Richardson said. "But there's something I have to tell ya first."

"What is it?"

"Sensors are working again. And we have guests as well."

"Who…"

"Captain Jax here. Captain of the Lady Grey."

***

She looked at the orb, which was mounted on a three pronged metal stand. It seemed to generate it's own light as well as reflecting the light of the room. Kobayashi stood over it, looking intently as he no doubt wondered why he was even there in the first place. Truman, Henrickson, and Brickstone stood to the back of the room. Jenna stood right alongside Kobayashi who also stood by Richardson. The first thought that Truman thought was boy is this room crowded.

"It looks like some sort of glyph. Egyptian maybe?" Richardson said. "It's hard ta tell because it's shaped in a three dimensional space. It seems ta change at whatever angle it's held at."

"Does it have to be Egyptian though? Look at this shape," Jenna said while spinning the orb slowly on its stand. "These look more like early Meso-American. Very early I'd imagine."

"Well whatever it is. It says somethin'. Just what ah don't know." Richardson replied. She placed her digi-pad next to the crystal. It made a series of whirrs and clicks then she looked closely at the read out. "Hmmm." She spread her arms out and motioned everyone back. "Kobayashi, can you hit the switch on the hologram scanner."

"Yeah," he said as he moved toward a small black panel on the wall. He slid open the case and operated the controls.

A light blue light emitted from a small laser at the top of the wall. The thin cylinder ran across the orb thousands of times in a matter of seconds, all the while Richardson reading the data on her digi-pad.

When the laser stopped, she walked slightly forward.

"Well Truman. If we're going to get any sort of translation, the computer's database is probably going to take hours. I've studied all sorts of languages and it's like nothing I've ever seen before."

"Well keep us informed," he aid as they left the room.

Truman turned to Henrickson.

"I want you to take the shuttle back up and patrol the area. Those marauders may still be near by, and it won't be that hard td find us. Also keep a very close eye open for the Lady Grey."

They all heard Sarah scream at the same moment.

She had walked over to the orb, enticed by its glowing luminescence. She had reached out to grab it. Her body seemed to glow. Light dully emanating from beneath her skin. Everyone but Truman took a step backwards away from her. He tried to near her, but as he did, her felt dizzy and weak. Looking around almost everyone else seemed to react the same way.

Suddenly the light faded. She raised her had to her forehead, then fainted to the floor. Truman caught her before she hit the floor.

They were all surprised when she spoke.

"I can see it now," she said "I can see everything."

"See what?" Truman said holding his daughter.

"The past…the present…the future. They aren't even where we think they should be. But nonetheless I can see them all."

Her eyes were opened wide, large dark pupils dilated and seemingly in awe.

 The explosion rocked the ship knocking them all to the ground.

Truman and Jenna were the first to stand up. Him running across the room to look at the view screen. He switched it on.

It was the marauder ship, hovering outside the battered Valkerie, thin streaks of weapon's fire raining down from above.

Who ever was piloting the ship didn't see the Lady Grey coming. She fired a salvo of missiles at the marauders, just as the Valkerie began to rise.

"She going to launch the missiles" Sarah said.

"Follow them." Truman said.

The three ships roared into pace above the horizon.

***

A smudgy blue rift was still open just beyond the rings of the planet. The pirate vessel was headed straight for it. The Lady Grey was right behind her. The Valkerie was in the rear.

The marauder vessel accelerated toward the rift. The Lady Grey and the Valkerie fired, but the smaller vessel was much to fast for the both of them. She moved closer to the rift.

Sarah touched the orb again.

The ships disappeared into the rift.

When they came out of the other side, they were near the Earth.

And the marauder had fired the Assimilator missile.

Sarah held the orb tighter.

That's when Truman noticed, that time seemed to be standing still.

"This was their plan all along," she said to him. "What you call the Atlanteans have allowed this to happen simply so that we could help save the earth."

"But I don't understand?' he said. He looked around. Everyone around him was frozen in place as well.

"You will in time," she said. Her body glowed even brighter, then became completely luminescent.

She moved in closer to her father.

"Thank you" she said touching a glowing hand to his face.

The room went bright, and she disappeared.

***

Truman woke up beside his wife. He jumped up as he had done for nearly every night for the last twenty-five years. Except this time he felt differently. There was no longer a feeling of dread, but instead one of hope.

The last few days, weeks, months were cloudy to him. The UNASA command wouldn't speak to the crew on any information they had. In truth the last thing he could clearly remember was speaking to his daughter…somewhere above the green jewel of the earth.

The doorbell rang. He walked across the room and donned his robe.

"Who is it?" he asked.

"Someone to say thank you." A elderly female voice said through the intercom.

Without fear he opened the door. Since he had been back it seemed as though the world had been more at ease than it ever had been. There had even been talk that the war would be over soon.

He opened the door. There stood the women he had helped at the coffee shop. It seemed like it had been centuries ago. In fact it had only been months. It was then that he noticed something.

Her eyes. Crystal and blue. He knew those eyes.

"Hello Truman. I didn't want to tell you until I knew you were ready."

He stood there speechless. Janelle came walking to the door and wrapped her arms around her husband. Her eyes squinted wearily as she weakly spoke.

"Truman who is it…" she said.

"A friend," he replied.

The elderly woman spoke again. "She says hello Truman. I don't know how. I don't know why. But we are linked. And she wants you to know that she loves you."

A tear rolled down his face. "Where. Where is she?"

"No where. Everywhere. She's here," she said pointing to his heart. "and she wanted me to let you have this."

The woman pulled out the same worn leather purse that Truman had helped her get back all those months ago. From it she pulled out a crystal orb.

"Thank you" he said.

END