Camp NaNoWriMo | April 2018 |
The universe is not what it used to be. In 2105, space travel is more common than the stomach flu. Men and women alike strive for the chance to travel the universe. The existence of other life forms is no longe...
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By That Much
2105 - I've given up keeping track.
I'm sitting on a bench in a park-like area. I watch the purple sun as it sets in the North. Weird, right? On Earth, sun rises in the East, sets in the West. Out here, it rises in the South, sets in the North. So weird. Awesome, but weird. It's also very calming, somehow. I miss the actual sun, but this is nice too.
"Excuse me?"
I look to my left and a man is standing in front of me. His dark hair is in his eyes, and is quite a contrast to his light skin.
"I've been hearing that you're searching for someone with the name Conrad," he says, holding out a piece of paper. "Are you Ryan?"
"I am," I reply, jumping to my feet.
"Then you might understand what I'm about to tell you. 'That wave missed you by that much.' Not sure what that means, but I was told to tell you that, if I ever met you."
I close my eyes and laugh softly.
"Who said that?"
"The sender of this letter," he hands me the paper with a chuckle. "I am going to assume there was an actual wave that missed one of you by that much."
"A very large wave. Yeah. Thank you for this. What's your name?"
"Mekylin," we shake hands. "Yours?"
"Ryan."
"The sister . . . Well, if it's not too late, that letter should help you."
"Thank you."
Mekylin smiles and walks away. I return to the bench. And I'm surprised to say the least. Of all the crazy things that could have happened, my brothers left me a friggin' note. They would. I bet it's not even a note, but a bunch of jargon and clues that could potentially lead me to them. I sincerely hope that is the case.
***
"Naia," I say, passing her the note from my brothers. "Do you know where these coordinates lead?"
She looks at the numbers and letters, making a face of confusion. And then she goes to her navigation console and taps them into the keyboard.
"They bring me ten possible locations," she explains as I come to take a look. "The nearest location is in the Fifth Quadrant. Sector 94, District 19."
"Pastor Stone, do you know the name of these locations?" I ask, pointing to the screen.
"I'm afraid my knowledge does not reach this extent," he replies, sighing. "I'm sorry."
"That's alright. Jordan, what about you?"
He appears at my side and studies the maps.
"Huh," he says, crossing his arms. "5-Q is in the Aessty Galaxy. Sector 94 is known as Onn D'Aeyyu."
"What's that mean?" Naia beats me to the question.
"I've never heard any proper translation," Jordan replies, shaking his head. "But that's basically where all the outlaws go to have fun."
"The space races!" I exclaim while, grabbing my head. "Why didn't I think of this before? Those knuckleheads were always racing, when they weren't being called for invasions. I've been there once before."
I walk towards the other side of the cabin and begin pacing. Something about this just feels weird. My brothers have never been so obvious. Something must be wrong. Really wrong.
"Set course for 5-Q," I say, turning to the group. "I want to be in the Aessty Galaxy within the next week. Naia, Pastor Stone, please work out the coordinates with Jordan, and please familiarize yourselves with the Quadrant. I need to speak to Jake about something."
"Yes Captain," they all say; Jordan is grinning as he takes his place at the helm.
***
"We may need to turn back to the First Quadrant," I say, after explaining the situation to Jake. "If my brothers are not at these coordinates, I'll need to find someone who knows where they could be. You know people in the system. I'll need your contacts to help me find information."
"I'll send a transmission," he says, nodding. "Have them ask around before we get there."
"Good. And we will need to recruit a doctor. I should have done so before we came out here, but I didn't think we'd have any emergencies."
"What kind of emergencies?" Jake asks, crossing his arms and looking at me with concern.
"If we run into trouble, we'll need someone to patch us up afterward," I reply, closing my eyes. "I'm not just a pilot or a captain. As part of my space training, they put me through physical training and tested my knowledge in . . . weaponry."
His eyes grow wide, but at the same time, he doesn't look at all surprised.
"You did say you could hold your own," he chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. "Alright; if you tell me what you need, I'll get it to you."
I count off a list of items from the top of my head. Jake writes them down into a little notebook from his pocket. I also give him a list of requirements for the doctor to have, should he find someone suitable for the position.
"They'd need to be willing to leave it all behind," I go on, sighing. "Their loyalty will need to be with the Montgomery. If something goes wrong, they may not have a place to return to afterward. Because news spreads like wildfire."
"You're saying you want someone who is a bit of an outlaw," Jake says, putting his pencil behind his ear and the notebook into his pocket.
"Yes, I want an outlawed doctor. Goes with my badass, outlaw crew. Don't you think?"
He grins, "I do think. I'll get on this and look around when we land. Anything else I should know about, boss?"
I smirk, "You should definitely know that I love being the boss."
My comment flows naturally. And I'm not sure why, but it came out kinda silky. I don't know why I said it like that. Jake doesn't change his expression of satisfaction. And that has me worried I might be stepping into unknown territory. But I can't take it back now. Not when Jake is struttin' away like he's won a prize. What do I do about this?
