Chapter 1
Put quite simply, my plan was to kill myself
as soon as I got home and disarmed the security system.
I had already taken care of all my worldly affairs. Even the fish in the pond
out back had a week’s supply of food in the
auto feeder. So knowing everything was ready, I settled comfortably into the darkness on my drive home. As the road wound
ever upwards my headlights cut through the evening gloom flashing briefly on patches of fog where night had chilled
the summer air to mist. In the daylight
these foothills resembled rumpled quilts tossed off against the base of the
mountain. The mountain where I would
exit this earth.
I had made the winding drive down about this
same time a month before with Barbara slumped unconscious next to me. It was her last trip to the
hospital. She abandoned her struggle as they moved her onto the gurney. I never even got to say goodbye. Not
that it mattered. We had hardly spoken the past few years anyway. But her passing had affected me more
deeply than I had expected, and I began finding myself at moments with a near
pathological impulse to end my own life as well. Just to escape the endless
little failures and misunderstandings that I suppose everyone has.
Finally, with the end so near, I dared to call
out old memories previously crammed down into the darker recesses of my mind. I studied them for
a time as I swerved around the hairpin curves on my
way home. Bothersome little flashes of my past. Regrets. From when I was a kid mostly. Forgettable things. Except I could never seem to forget them. A perfunctory encounter, a studied indifference, an ignored touch. Oh, and I was always behind in class and among the last chosen on the playground. I was a loser. Everyone knew it. Only one other kid was a worse athlete than me. Little Arlen who killed himself in junior high school. Or so I had heard. Arlen, who could be forgiven for being the biggest loser in Stubbinville, that little scab of a town on the pine barrens of the Florida Panhandle.
way home. Bothersome little flashes of my past. Regrets. From when I was a kid mostly. Forgettable things. Except I could never seem to forget them. A perfunctory encounter, a studied indifference, an ignored touch. Oh, and I was always behind in class and among the last chosen on the playground. I was a loser. Everyone knew it. Only one other kid was a worse athlete than me. Little Arlen who killed himself in junior high school. Or so I had heard. Arlen, who could be forgiven for being the biggest loser in Stubbinville, that little scab of a town on the pine barrens of the Florida Panhandle.
But eventually things began to change. I spent
a summer practicing batting and catching and discovered it was all just a matter of
learning how to do it. But the earlier failures stuck with me
anyway.
anyway.
Now it would all be over in a few more minutes.
What relief. There was nothing left that could alter my plans for the night. Nothing whatever.
And there was a certain sense of fulfillment in carrying out a well-formed plan. I turned off the
highway and continued up the quarter-mile private road to my summer house. As the drive leveled off and turned
right along the front acreage, I noted a rather large hole. That was new. I stopped the car and
climbed out into the late evening air. The night’s moon was
already well up.
already well up.
But this was no small hole. It was a crater. It
must have been two hundred feet across and deep
enough to hide a barn. In mild alarm, I peered across the abyss and noted with some relief the
silhouette of my house against the Milky Way. At least this hole wouldn’t interfere with my evening’s
plan.
enough to hide a barn. In mild alarm, I peered across the abyss and noted with some relief the
silhouette of my house against the Milky Way. At least this hole wouldn’t interfere with my evening’s
plan.
Still baffled, though, I returned my
attention to the crater. It was perfectly round. There was no
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debris field thrown up as a meteor would have
done if it had impacted my front yard. And where was the missing dirt? I
surveyed the surrounding area. There should have been dirt. Lots of dirt. But
there was nothing. I stepped cautiously over to the
rim and peered down into the darkness.
Something touched my neck. “Be careful. The
edge is unstable.” “Shitfire!” I yelled, almost jumping into the hole.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“You didn’t startle me,” I wheezed. “You damn near sent me into
cardiac arrest. I’ll be eighty next week.”
Then I remembered that, actually, I wouldn’t.
I’d be dead. I finally turned to confront whoever
had destroyed my front lawn. Not that it mattered, I reminded myself. But when I saw her, I wondered
if perhaps I was already dead and had just forgotten about it. She stood a bit shorter than me with
spiky red hair that caught the moonlight on its tips. As she studied my face she said, “I’m Lovely
Pebble.”
had destroyed my front lawn. Not that it mattered, I reminded myself. But when I saw her, I wondered
if perhaps I was already dead and had just forgotten about it. She stood a bit shorter than me with
spiky red hair that caught the moonlight on its tips. As she studied my face she said, “I’m Lovely
Pebble.”
If I had been F. Scott Fitzgerald, I might have
said right then and there that she was not like you
and me.
and me.
“I’ve had an unforeseen equipment failure,” she
continued quite unfazed by my near death at her hands. “On my time glider. And it has dropped out of
sequential bypass on its return home.” The moonlight was just bright enough that I noticed her lips
didn’t move when she spoke. They remained frozen in an elfish grin. Then I
noticed she was jaybird naked. My nearly eighty-year-old heart almost stopped
for the second time since I’d gotten out of the car. Maybe I wouldn’t have to
kill myself after all. This Lovely
Pebble thing already had a pretty good start on it.
“I see.” I dropped my hand from my chest. “Well
I’m real sorry to hear that.” Then realizing the poor girl must have been stressed, I remembered my
manners. After getting my breath back, I extended my hand. “I’m Micajah Fenton by the way, but my
friends call me Cager.” She studied my hand and, after a moment of obvious confusion, touched it
gently.
“Then may I call you Cager?”
“You may if it suits you,” I said, ever one to
enjoy a double entendre.
She responded with obvious relief, “Then you may call me Love,”
oblivious to the undertone. “Would that be
appropriate?”
“Well, normally it might,” I said with as
straight a face as possible. “To keep things respectable, though, why don’t I just call you by your first
initial. Ell.”
“Yes. I like that much better. Actually, we
use formal names in only the most extraordinary circumstances. This is only the third time I have ever used
mine.”
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Well, clearly something most extraordinary had
occurred in my front yard to leave me facing a two hundred-foot-wide crater and a naked woman whose lips
didn’t move when she spoke.
“Then we are friends?”
“As long as you don’t make any more holes in my
yard.” “I couldn’t help it. I’m sorry.”
“Well, in that case, I suppose it’s okay.”
Ell now appeared vaguely perplexed. I began to
suspect English wasn’t her native language.
Hell, maybe Earth wasn’t even her native planet. “Relax,” I said as I started back toward the car. “I
was just messing with you.” She seemed to ponder the exchange as she tagged along. I pushed the car
door shut then leaned against the cold front fender. “So. You say you’re, a what, a time traveler? Do I
have that right?”
Hell, maybe Earth wasn’t even her native planet. “Relax,” I said as I started back toward the car. “I
was just messing with you.” She seemed to ponder the exchange as she tagged along. I pushed the car
door shut then leaned against the cold front fender. “So. You say you’re, a what, a time traveler? Do I
have that right?”
She perked up at that. “Yes. Well, almost. I’m
a space-time traveler. My travels cross both space and time.”
“Then I take it you’re not from around here.”
“Well, yes and no. I’m from your galaxy.”
“Well, yes and no. I’m from your galaxy.”
“This very galaxy? You don’t say. Then we’re
almost neighbors. But, and I’m just guessing here, you’re not actually human are you?”
“No,” she said with a trace of concern in her
voice. “No, I’m not.” “Then why
do you look human?”
“I don’t.” Then after a studious pause, “Oh.
You mean why do I look human to you. It’s a matter of protocol. We aren’t supposed to interface with humans.
Or any advanced creature for that matter. But this is an emergency and emergency protocol is to
appear as a non-threatening organism of the same species if that ever becomes
necessary. My glider’s records on humans are sketchy at best but indicate females might be the least threatening
way to interface with males.”
“Really?”
“Yes. So, am I doing it right?”
“Well, yeah, so far.” She hadn’t quite managed
to kill me yet.
“Okay. That’s a relief. I’ve been in space-time
research in this area for only about fifty of your years
and this is also the first time I’ve had to interface with an outside race of
intelligent beings. I don’t want to mess this
up.”
So, I actually was in contact with an alien from another star
system. And my evening’s plans had
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been going so well up to this point.
“So I guess I should mention that I detect you
plan to end your life tonight. I hope you won’t do
that. I really need some help here. The failed part has never failed before in the history of space-time
research. But I was working on your planet’s early history. The period shortly after your moon
formed.
that. I really need some help here. The failed part has never failed before in the history of space-time
research. But I was working on your planet’s early history. The period shortly after your moon
formed.
“I thought I was far enough back from the ocean
to avoid the mile-high tides generated when your
moon was orbiting every ten hours, but I failed to account for how far those tides would reach inland
and I had left the real-world access door open by mistake. My glider flooded under a rushing wall of
seawater. That wasn’t the actual cause of the failure, though. It was the boulder that washed in with
the water. It struck the subspace linkage. The glider cleaned itself up immediately but the linkage was
damaged just enough that it snapped right after I departed for home. I dropped back into reality here
right where I was when I left but billions of years later.” She paused to see if I was following.
moon was orbiting every ten hours, but I failed to account for how far those tides would reach inland
and I had left the real-world access door open by mistake. My glider flooded under a rushing wall of
seawater. That wasn’t the actual cause of the failure, though. It was the boulder that washed in with
the water. It struck the subspace linkage. The glider cleaned itself up immediately but the linkage was
damaged just enough that it snapped right after I departed for home. I dropped back into reality here
right where I was when I left but billions of years later.” She paused to see if I was following.
“I see,” I said, unable to come up with
anything to top what I’d just heard.
“Anyway. The glider came out just below the
present ground level. Its failsafe cleared away the surrounding earth so I had
access to the surface. But I still need help. I’m fairly sure your technology can manufacture a replacement part. The
tolerances aren’t so critical a civilization that can make your car can’t make this part. And I’ll gladly
reward you for your effort. In fact I’m compelled to reward you. You have only to tell me what you want.”
I just stood there for a long time. Was this
creature reading my thoughts? It already knew of my
evening’s plans for self-elimination. Probably knew the reasons, even if I didn’t understand them
myself. But so what. It seemed harmless enough. Finally, without moving my lips I thought, “Of course
I’ll help you. You won’t owe me anything. I’m head of a corporation that probably has the resources
to build whatever it is you need. Let’s go over to my house and we can work out the details.”
evening’s plans for self-elimination. Probably knew the reasons, even if I didn’t understand them
myself. But so what. It seemed harmless enough. Finally, without moving my lips I thought, “Of course
I’ll help you. You won’t owe me anything. I’m head of a corporation that probably has the resources
to build whatever it is you need. Let’s go over to my house and we can work out the details.”
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