She Looks Like… “This”

Introductory Note : The following short story takes place some time after the later events of Bonnie’s New Auntie.


The early-morning autumn leaves on the valley-sides – though resplendent in their brilliant, fourth-quarter reds, oranges and yellows – were, in fact, scarcely noticed by most of the shoppers inside the mid-sized Franco’s Lowball Costs grocery-store.

Some had come to this small, Canadian resort-country town just to see the trees in their all-too-brief glory; others were here on more prosaic duties such as “closing up the cottage”, while still others – locals, mostly – were stocking up on supplies for the impending winter months.

A quick glance at license-plates in the parking-lot would have revealed mostly Ontario-registered automobiles and RVs, although there were also plenty from New York State, various New England principalities and a few from points further afar, like Texas, Florida or even the vehicle of some brave adventurer from California.

The place was very busy; the queues starting at the checkout-counters were all five or more family-groups deep, forcing some of the lines back up the aisles containing foodstuffs. Though the store had not yet started its late fall interior heating, many of the mostly Caucasian (with a sprinkling of visible minorities, mostly from the Greater Toronto Area) shoppers had arrived somewhat over-dressed in anticipation of cool outdoor weather. Extraneous outer clothing-layers were thus being ruefully removed, up and down each queue.

The lengthy delays in the shopping-lineups provided (or, more accurately… “imposed”) ample opportunity for idle chit-chat, amongst those waiting for their turn at the counter.

Conversations covered all the usual bases, ranging from the outcomes of local junior sports games to more weighty events, for example “man, am I ever glad that I live up here and not down there… did’ya hear about how Florida got hit by three monster hurricanes in a row, this year?”. There was also some passing commentary about even more unusual events supposedly occurring in the United States; but this was mostly dismissed as “more of that ‘conspiracy-theory’ nonsense that they’re always brewin’ up, on NeoNet… ain’t worth the bits and bytes it’s floatin’ around on”.

There was, of course, the usual grumbling about escalating prices for everything, though, the fact that Canada’s currency was at a 100-year high compared to its beleaguered U.S. counterpart, certainly did take some of the “sting” out of the cost of a bag of salad or a loaf of bread.

About two shopping-groups’ distant from the cherished objective of the checkout-counter, and almost precisely in the middle of the eight distinct queues, a young, already-tall, teenage Caucasian lad with never-combed brown hair and the unkempt beginnings of a stubble-beard, had all the time that any kid of his ilk would have needed to win arguments with his parents by means of repetition and exhaustion.

“Come on, Dad,” he too-loudly complained, “I’m almost old enough to drive, you know; and way up here, the cops are never gonna catch us! Why can’t I at least take her from here, to the cottage? It’s, like, only ten miles or something!”

“Fred,” interjected his mother (a thin-framed, forty-something woman with a close-cropped hairdo),

“That man over there… you see him?

“Yeah – sure I do,” answered the father, who was a somewhat-overweight, clean-shaven, balding man in his forties.

“So what?” queried Fred.

“He was staring at your daughter,” warned the mother.

“So maybe he’s a pervert or something,” interjected the teenager. “Dad – about the car –”

“Just a sec, William,” temporized the father, as he shot a quick glance at what appeared to be a Caucasian male in the next queue over to the right, compared to the line that his own family was stuck in.

Actually, the balding, late-40’s-aged, cheaply-outfitted object of the wife’s attention (the guy reminded Fred of a used-car salesman) looked so similar that he might have been Fred’s own brother, although he seemed to be leading a quite different clan. This included a pre-teen boy with a distinct copper-tone to his skin (Fred figured this kid to be either Hispanic or some other ethnic group), another dark-haired male child about the same age but definitely Caucasian, and two teenagers.

One of the latter was an obviously-pretty, brown-eyed female Caucasian with long, auburn-brown hair. The second was a white male with close-cropped black hair, perhaps a bit younger but somewhat taller than the brown-haired girl (he was a bit taller than William). All of the junior-aged crew in this group were dressed in casual street clothes.

Fred’s son was about to whine again, but he had, like his father, been distracted by the other line-up.

“You’re imagining things,” countered the father,. “I don’t see anything. The guy’s got four kids – didn’t you hear him telling them “no beer, some of you are under-age”? And no, William, you’re not getting behind the wheel, at least not until we get to the cottage and you’re not on a public road. You think I want us to get it impounded up here, and then have to rent a car to get back to Delaware? No way, José!”

“Well, I just… oh, never mind,” complained the teenager, who then moped, briefly looked down at the floor and shuffled his feet.

The grocery-buying queues continued to move forward, and, coincidentally, Fred’s family, and the one that he and his wife had been arguing about, were both next-up for the checkout-counter in their respective lines.

It was at this point that Fred himself began to be slightly concerned, for he saw the Hispanic-looking boy in the other queue point at Fred’s six-year-old, pig-tailed, bunny-head-dress-wearing daughter Casey (or – oddly – at the caped-super-heroine doll in Casey’s hand). He stared intensely at the little girl before looking in another direction.

For a second or two, Casey stood transfixed in place; despite prodding from her mother, the wide-eyed little girl refused to move. Initially, both Fred and Beatrice were worried that their daughter was having yet another of her epileptic sessions, but eventually, Casey came to her senses and stopped blocking the line.

The man in the other line-up, between snatching various grocery-items from his shopping-cart and depositing each in turn on the checkout conveyor-belt, whirled in place and started talking to the brown-haired young woman following behind him, although the conversation was unfortunately just out of earshot.

Weird, too, how just a look from that boy, almost sent Casey off the deep end… shit, I sure hope she holds it together while we’re up here… I hear that our Bronze Low insurance coverage doesn’t work up here.

That’s all we need – a kid in hospital for a week, while we go to the poor-house…

“Daddy!” interjected Casey, who was staring upward at her two parents.

She looked as if she’d seen a ghost. “Daddy! I got to tell you something!”

“Not now, dear,” said Beatrice. “Daddy and I are busy paying for our groceries.”

“But it’s important!” persisted the child. “Really important!”

“You have to go to the bathroom again?” sighed Fred.

“No,” said Casey, “But –”

“Then it will have to wait until we get out to the car,” countermanded the father.

Sullenly, Casey looked downward; but – holding her superheroine-figurine up in front – she started to mumble something clearly directed at it.

“She really believes all that crazy stuff about these ‘super-heroes’, you know,” quietly related Beatrice to Fred, upon seeing their daughter talking to the doll. “I wish William wouldn’t show her all those videos, after we told him they’re off-limits for her.”

“It’s just a phase,” he whispered back. “Part of growing up. Go easy on both of ‘em! We didn’t have any, uhh, episodes, coming up here. Let’s not set her off, you know?”

“Yeah,” conceded the mother.

But it appeared that, despite the parents’ efforts, William had overheard, as he whispered to his sister, “Don’t worry, ‘Case… I think they’re true, too. Dad and Mom just don’t know how to tell the real social media videos, from the fake ones.”

The little girl solemnly nodded in agreement.

Meanwhile, the rest of what Fred guessed was the strange man’s family, continued to empty their shopping-cart. Though he was preoccupied by his own duty to do the same, he had enough time to notice a few unusual things about what the other group had purchased.

For example, no flour or baking-goods were in the cart, but there were no less than five large packages each of regular and icing sugar; there was enough ice-cream to sink a battleship, and – despite the fact that there was a big sale in the store for fresh steaks and even though local trout was in season – the only “meat” on the checkout-belt was of that faked, inferior vegetarian stuff. Along with a three-deep-stacked pile of canned-goods, there were a lot of fresh vegetables, probably too many for five people to turn into salad-material, before some of it would go bad.

Finally, though the other party seemed to number only one adult, two teenagers and two pre-teen boys, the amount of food being acquired was far in excess of what a group of this size would ordinarily consume in a week or thereabouts.

Well… nothing really strange about that, he reasoned.

Just stocking up for a long stay somewhere… but it’s already autumn?

With all that food, looks like they’ll be eating it for a month or more…

Hope they got some nice warm duds, ‘case the temperature takes a dip…

The curious-looking man in the other queue seemed to have finished his grocery-bagging duties in record time. He stared intently, but this time, his gaze was directed – oddly, without so much as a spoken word – at the copper-hued, dark-haired boy.

The boy nodded as if in agreement, then grabbed hold of the shopping-cart’s rear handle-bar (he was only a head’s-worth taller than this, so it was evidently something of a struggle) and, accompanied by the rest of his family tagging along behind, pushed the cart in a direction aimed for the door of the shopping-center.

Holy crap, silently noted Fred.

That cart’s filled way past overflowing – must weigh a ton – but the kid’s maneuvering it as if it were empty.

Must be a damn strong little bugger… Will could never have managed something like that, when he was the same age…

Wonder why he’s pushing it by himself, when there’s two bigger kids to help out? Or even that other, white boy?

Wait a minute, there they go… sure seem to be in a hurry to get out of the store.

Maybe going out to start the car?

The man, meanwhile, had taken up a position with his back up against the grocery-store’s front picture-windows. His eyes were closed, but, unfortunately, whether to the left or to the right, there was no way that Fred and his family could get out of the establishment without going right by this guy.

Maybe he’s just taking a pause for the cause, or something, Fred postulated.

But there’s something I don’t like about his, uhh, manner.

What the hell’s he doing, just leaning back like that?

Why isn’t he heading out with the rest of his group?

Not sure what it is, but whatever his ‘issues’ are – he’d better keep ‘em to himself.

At this point, Beatrice and (somewhat reluctantly), William, had finished reloading the now-paid-for groceries, into their own shopping-cart.

The teenager looked up at Fred.

“Well?” he said.

“’Well’, what?” responded the father.

“You gonna take the cart outside?” asked the teenager.

“No… you are,” directed Fred.

“Why do I have to do it?” complained William.

“Because I have to have my hands free… that’s why,” evenly stated the father.

“Uhh… why’d you…” stammered the son.

“Just do it, for God’s sake!” countered a frustrated Fred. “It’s just a shopping-cart and all you got to do is ‘get it to the car’. Not a lot to ask, so… enough!

“Fine… fine… whatever you say, dude,” sullenly retreated William, as he positioned himself behind the cart and began to push.

He turned it to the left – pointing towards one of the store’s two front-exits – and, to Fred’s relief, got easily past the strange man, as did Beatrice. However, just as Fred himself, with Casey’s hand held securely in his own, tried to walk by, the odd-behaving man came to life; his eyes opened and – with no apparent provocation – looked the father right in the face and said,

“Hey, there, Fred – uhh, Fred Beaumont, isn’t it? How’s it going today, man?”

An annoyed Fred stopped in place (with tightened grasp on his daughter’s hand) and responded, “I don’t know you, mister. What’s this all about?”

“It is ‘Fred Beaumont’… isn’t it?” continued the strange man. “Oh, and – your daughter’s name is ‘Casey’, right? Hi, honey! Hey, you look like you’re about Elissha’s age… she’s my youngest, by the way –”

Beatrice and William stopped all forward motion and turned their attention to the conversation.

“As a matter of fact… yes, it is,” answered an increasingly-annoyed Fred. “How’d you…”

“Oh… you could say that a really nice lady told me,” pleasantly mentioned the man. “A very unusual lady, in fact.”

Shit, he realized.

This guy must be a cop or something!

How else could he… or maybe he’s one of those fuckin’ crazy cult-members.

Do they got them up here in Canada, like back home?

Don’t think they do.

But if he’s a cop, this could be really bad news – what did we do?

We didn’t do jack shit!

Okay… so I did lowball it, when the border-guards asked me about how much cash we were bringing across the border… but that’s just because the good old Yankee Dollar’s not worth a bucket of warm spit, up here!

Surely that’s not enough for them to sic a detective on me!

Anyway… I got rights… I think… so better bluff this cop, find out what the hell he’s aimin’ at…

“Look, mister,” challenged Fred, “I don’t know what this is all about, but you’re disturbing both me and my daughter. Unless you got some – uhh – legal reason for me and my family to hang around here… we’re heading out. You understand?”

The strange man let out what sounded like a sincere sigh, and explained,

“I don’t blame you for being – uhh – confused about all this; and for the record, I hate having to do it every second time that we drop by a place with crowds of people… funny, you know – I’m a salesman by trade and I never minded doing cold-calls, but somehow, this feels kind of awkward. I apologize for that. Anyway… here’s the deal : my son Tommy noticed that little Casey there is holding something very special, in her hand; and we’d like you to join us in the overflow parking-lot – you know, the one in the back, away from the street – for a quick little, uhh, ‘get-together’. I promise, it’ll be worth your while. With me so far?”

“I got no idea what you’re talkin’ about,” parried Fred. “For starters, we don’t know you from a hole in the ground –”

“Oh, I can fix that,” interrupted the strange man.

His voice lowered, as if he were trying to avoid being overheard by passers-by.

“My name’s ‘Bob Billings’,” he said. “Son’s Tommy George, daughters are Sayuri and Elissha. He’s out back with his, err, ‘mother’; the girls are at home today. The other three that you saw with me there in the checkout-line, they’re just some Canadian friends helping us to shop for food.”

Now it was William’s turn to stare as if having seen a ghost, at the strange man.

Dad!” he called out, rather more loudly than would have been appropriate.

“Not now!” countermanded Fred.

“But Dad – don’t you realize who that is? Who he’s with?” persisted the teenager.

The strange man spoke in William’s direction,

“Oh, come on, kid,” he requested, “Let’s keep that as ‘our own little secret’ for a short while… not spoil the surprise. You mind?”

“Uhh… sure, man,” nervously responded William. “But… holy shit! You mean she’s –”

Billings had an insouciant grin on his face as he winked at the teenager.

He continued,

“Now, you see… here’s the thing. My better half has this kind of crazy rule – I think it’s completely impractical, but she insists on it – that if we see a child carrying anything, especially a doll, that, well, is kind of all about her… we invite ‘em to a little meet ‘n greet, somewhere private enough so we don’t scare the horses, in this case, ‘round the back of the building. You get what I’m saying?”

“Bea,” said Fred to his wife, “We’re going. Come on.”

He looked at William and pointed towards the door.

“Mom!” exclaimed the teenager, “We can’t! You and Dad don’t understand –”

Casey broke contact with her father and said, “Daddy… I want to go with the nice man.”

“You’ll do no such thing, young lady!” snapped Fred.

William released his grasp on the shopping-cart and said,

“I’m going with Case, Dad. And you and Mom had better come with us.”

“Mr. Beaumont,” interjected Billings, “Or ‘Fred’, if I can call you that – call me ‘Bob’… I don’t blame you for having your guard up; it’s exactly what I’d do, if some random guy accosted me on the way out of a grocery-store, like I’ve done to you and your family. But please believe me – this is the chance of a lifetime. You, and especially your daughter, will regret it as long as you live, if you pass it up. Just come with me around to the back, bring your whole family with you – none of you will be harmed in the slightest. The opposite, in fact.”

“You aren’t making any sense,” protested Fred. “What’s this all about? Like, a cult, or something? You don’t look like a cop, to me.”

“A… ‘cult’?” queried the strange man. “Funny you mention it like that… you know, I suppose that in a way, you could consider the ‘New People’ like ‘yours truly’, to be in a ‘cult’… but not the kind you’re familiar with. Tell you what – I’m going to head out now; I’ll wait by the side of the building, and it’s up to you to decide what you and your family are going to do. Listen, Will… I know that you know what’s going on here, but the thing is… she asked me not to spoil the moment, so please don’t tell your folks, if you don’t mind? They have to figure it out, for themselves. Some crazy thing about ‘free will’ or whatever. Oh-kay?”

I thought this guy spoke English? wondered Fred.

But he’s pronouncing a few words, oddly…

“What the hell’s he talking about?” whispered Fred to his son.

“Dad… he’s not fuckin’ kidding, about ‘the chance of a lifetime’,” answered William. “You gotta let Case go back there! Not to mention me. I can’t believe that you haven’t put two and two together, yet!”

Various members of his family had to stand aside as annoyed grocery-shoppers navigated around the huddle, immersed in conversation as it was.

A frustrated and cornered Fred Beaumont shot a glance at his wife.

“What you want to do?” he demanded.

“They could be planning to rob us, or something,” noted Beatrice.

“I’m told that there are security-cameras overlooking the rear parking-lot,” commented Bob Billings. “Which actually isn’t too great for us, but… if it’s of any interest, my family and I – who are the only ones you’ll meet back there – we, ahem, have no need of money. We got all we need and then some. Actually, if you’re short, I’ve got no doubt that we can hand you over a few nice little pure gold coins… they tell me that each one’s worth about ten grand American, probably about half that up here. But oh well. ‘Money comes, money goes’… you know?”

Beatrice bit her lip.

“Fred… you know how much we need for Casey’s treatments…” she forced out.

“I can’t give you a guarantee,” inscrutably mentioned Billings, “But my guess is, your daughter won’t have to deal with epilepsy – or anything else, for that matter – after we have our little get-together. Did you know that I used to be 65 pounds overweight? Just look at me!”

Somehow, the man’s frame revealed that the claim was likely true.

“So you are a cult then… right?” challenged a wary Fred.

“Like I said… ‘no kind of cult that you’ve ever heard of, before’,” evenly responded Billings. “But why take my word for it? Just come back and see. No obligations, no threats, no promises. Oh-kay, one only : you’re in for a very unusual experience. That’s all I’ll say.”

He turned and started for the door.

The two parents exchanged anxious glances.

Eventually, Beatrice said,

“Oh, come on, Fred… it’s bright daylight out there, and if anything bad happens, I’ll just scream!”

Her husband rolled his eyes and replied,

“Fine, then… but it’s on you, Bea… they didn’t let me bring our guns across the border – we got no protection, if –”

“Dad,” broke in an exultant William, “With who’s waiting for us back there… if we get into trouble, I’d use harsh language… ‘bout as effective as an AR, or a H-bomb.”

Fred’s face wore a thoroughly puzzled look, as – reluctantly with every foot-step – he led his family to follow the stranger, out of Franco’s Lowball Costs.


William and Casey beat Beatrice and Fred by a full six paces, in rounding the right-hand edge of the grocery-store’s front-side. The “Billings” guy was slightly ahead of them. The overflow parking-lot actually did have quite a few vehicles; Fred assumed that these cars belonged to the store-staff, because – unlike the rather frenetic activity in the front-lot – they were mostly unattended, with nobody coming and going.

The three Canadian youngsters were standing off to one side, chatting idly among themselves.

“Hey, Sari!” everyone heard the self-proclaimed salesman, call out. “They’re here… but Holy Sales Job, Batman, did it ever take some fancy talking to get them interested! You owe me big-time for getting them back here, my dear.”

At first, none of the Beaumont clan had any idea of who Billings was addressing. Yet – in the next half-second – William pointed to one of the vehicles about sixty feet away, in the shadows at the far end of the parking-lot. He excitedly exclaimed, “Is that her?”

What the hell, mused Fred,

Not two seconds ago, I just looked at that car! There was nobody near it, but now there’s some girl sitting on the hood, with her back turned to all of us.

She must have been hiding on the far side of it, then jumped up on the front of the car.

But how’s it that neither Bea nor I, saw her do that?

“Hi, Fred, Beatrice, William and Casey,” came a friendly greeting, from the “Sari”-girl. “I am glad that you decided to join my family and I, as Bob suggested.”

Though the pronunciation of the words was perfect, her voice had a light, hard-to-place accent.

Where’s she from? idly speculated Fred.

France? Germany? Sweden?

No, gotta be somewhere else. Maybe Finland?

Maybe somewhere, like, further away?

New Zealand?

Nah… heard one of ‘em once, they all talk like the Aussies, down there –

The new girl rotated quickly in place, while still seated on the car-hood (weirdly, she didn’t seem to use any of her limbs to effect the move; it was as if a gust of wind, or something like that, had turned her around). Then she effortlessly jumped down so as to be on the side facing Billings and the others.

“It is so nice to meet you all,” she remarked, while walking forward at a steady pace. “Let us, ahh, get to know each other better… shall we?”

Then she momentarily paused and called out backwards, over her shoulder,

“Oh-kay, Drew, Eyrie and Kevin!”

The three of them walked forward, toward the “Sari”-girl.

In a few seconds she had advanced far enough out of the shadows that Fred, Beatrice and their offspring, could finally see her clearly. She was about five feet eight inches in height (much shorter than either Fred or Bob Billings), with a lean, boyish, small-boobed figure, entrancing green eyes and long, golden-blond hair cut into a bang over her forehead.

She had a flawless, soft complexion despite wearing neither make-up nor any of the other, commonly-used personal appearance-enhancements. She was dressed in comfortably-stylish, semi-casual clothing, including a business-like blouse (Fred couldn’t tell if she was wearing a bra; he hoped not), dark slacks and tastefully-embroidered slippers.

And Mr. Beaumont ruefully considered that he sure had been right about one thing : this girl was, indeed, surpassingly beautiful, in an odd, deceptive way that only fully revealed itself on the third or fourth time that he got a good look at her. It was as if he had to be suspicious about her beforehand, to really identify or appreciate her face or figure.

Hmm, salaciously mused Fred,

Where have I seen that girl before?

Oh yeah, now I remember!

The “Swim-Suit Special”… yeah, that’s gotta be it.

Too bad that Bea made me throw it in the trash… should have got the “digital” version, could have hidden it on the communicator, but anyway, well, imagine that!

Anyway… she must be that guy’s daughter… way too young to be his squeeze.

And there was something else about her – it was a feeling impossible to place. As she drew progressively nearer, her presence – a feeling of being in the vicinity of someone much greater than oneself, like a boyhood fiction-hero or a star athlete – grew apace. Yet outwardly, all that Fred and Beatrice beheld, was simply a well-dressed, supermodel-quality young woman.

As the three behind her continued moving forward at a steady pace, the “Sari”-girl closed the distance with the newcomers with unnatural speed (she seemed still to be just walking, but each step somehow counted for two or three); but – to the parents’ consternation – she bypassed Fred and Beatrice altogether, instead stopping right in front of Casey, then bending down on one knee to be at eye-height with the child.

“Hi, dear little one,” she greeted with a broad, cheery smile, while looking Casey right in the face.

Man, mused Fred,

That’s quite a set of teeth she’s got there… yeah, pearly-white alright, but there’s something weird about ‘em…

The wide-eyed child just stood there, staring.

“It’s, uhh, an honor,” stammered William.

“The honor is mine,” politely said the “Sari”-girl. “You can tell your friends all about it, soon… but not right now, oh-kay?”

“Oh, yes, for sure, your, uhh, majesty,” instantly replied the teenager. “Is that what I’m supposed to say?”

“It will do,” answered the young woman with a suppressed giggle and a warm smile in William’s direction, “But it is not exactly the right thing. Do not worry about it! Please relax. We will be friends, shortly. Or so I hope.”

“So do I,” the teenager managed.

He looked totally awed, or, perhaps, out of his depth.

What the F… what’s gotten into him? wondered Fred.

She’s just some cute model, or whatever.

He’s talking as if she’s a queen or something!

“She is,” mentioned the auburn-haired girl, who had just arrived, along with her two compatriots, within easy speaking-distance. “You don’t know the half of it, dude!”

William did a double-take at this new-found teenager.

Holy shit, he reflected,

Ms. Alien Angel’s a “11”, that’s for sure… way better than how she looks in the pictures on Neo… but that brown-haired one – how is it that I didn’t realize how cute she is too, at first glance – she’s a “9.5” at least… wonder if she’s got a boyfriend… oops, that tall dude next to her, he’s probably… damn!

“Drew’s my brother,” responded the auburn-haired girl with a wry look on her “girl-next-door” face and an odd twinkle in her eye – though William hadn’t said a single word of his observations, out loud. “My name’s ‘Eyrie’ and my younger brother is ‘Kevin’. We’re Canadians from Toronto, by the way, but, uhh, well, we seem not to be hangin’ around home base very much, these days. ‘Welcome to Canada’, nice to meet you, dude, and, ‘thanks for the compliment’.”

“Hi,” offered Kevin.

“Yeah… it’s all cool,” spoke up Drew. “Don’t sweat it none.”

“But I didn’t say anything…” protested William. “How’d you –”

“We’re with her,” evaded Eyrie. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

“Hey Tommy,” called out the younger brother, “You didn’t spill the beans yet?”

“Nope,” responded the copper-tone-skinned boy, who had stationed himself not far from the “Sari”-girl. “I win the bet, Kev! You owe me one of those chocolate bars – the kind you can only get up here.”

“Aww…” whined Kevin. “She only gave me a gold coin – I can’t use that to buy… well, you know.”

After a bemused giggle, the “Sari”-girl – turning her attention to Casey – took over the conversation, noting “Now, little one… I see that you are holding something – excuse me, someone – very special in your hand.”

“It’s… it’s my dolly,” hesitatingly answered the little girl. “Of the person who I like the most, in the whole wide world.”

“And who might that be?” teased the young woman.

“Karey Maredj”, Casey stated, in a low voice just a bit more than a whisper. “The Storied Watcher. Who saved all of us on Earth from a comet. She’s my favorite super-hero!”

Oh God, thought a frustrated Fred.

Here comes that damn conspiracy theory again… I’m going to cut Will off NeoNet for good, this time –

“That is a wonderful way of saying it, sweetheart,” cajoled the new girl, “But it is actually pronounced, ‘kar-AYn may-RAY-jeh’. May I have a look at your dolly, please?”

“Uh-huhh,” complied Casey, as she handed the figurine to her interrogator.

“Now, you see,” purposefully described the young woman as she pointed to various aspects of the doll’s vestments, “The way in which she is dressed – understandable since whomever designed your dolly never had direct contact with, ahh, the real thing – but it does not closely resemble how the Storied Watcher’s war-children, actually appear. For example, regard robust Vìrya Ahn’jë… see how the toy-designers have her scale-mail colored in blue, whereas, in fact, her tone is that of black with flickering blue-flame; and see how they have made Vìrya I’ëà’b’ as a target-shield… but in real life, she is circular-round.”

“How do you… how do you know those funny-sounding names?” warily inquired Casey. “They were on the box that my dolly came in, but I could never say them right.”

There was a broad smile on the young woman’s face as she cryptically replied, “Maybe someone will teach you, very soon. They are the names of living beings, you know… and they are listening to us, right now.”

“Oh my God,” whispered William to his uncomprehending parents. “That means she’s –”

“I see that you’ve also been following all those silly stories circulating on the NeoNet,” complained Beatrice, in the direction of the still-kneeling newcomer. “My daughter’s room is full of stuff like that doll. At first we thought it was just a phase, but, well… to be frank with you, we’re worried that she’s regressing into a fantasy-world. And frankly again, Miss… you’re not doing much to help us, and her, to get out of it.”

The three Canadians broke out laughing, upon hearing this.

“’Fantasy’?” offered Eyrie. “Uh-uhh. Ma’am… ‘reality’ around here is a lot weirder, as you’re about to find out.”

“Yeah,” added Drew, “You’re about to get a lot further into it.”

“What do you mean?” anxiously demanded the worried mother.

“You see, Casey,” smoothly continued the “Sari”-girl, “When I notice a little one such as yourself having taken a figurine of Karéin-Mayréij – Comet-Destroyer, Guardian of Earth – to her heart, it means so much to me. Foremost, it means that you are interested… and being interested in a thing, is the first step towards knowing that thing, or that person. But moreover, your dolly reveals that the spark of nobility is already within you, Casey. It means that you are dreaming of being greater than you had ever dared hope to be. It means that you deserve, and have earned, the singular attention of the Storied Watcher, herself. Do you understand what I say?”

The little girl nodded affirmatively, while commenting, “You… you sure do talk nice.”

The “Sari”-girl threw her head back and let out a hearty (though, gentle) laugh; in so doing, she revealed four unusually-long incisor-teeth.

“Can you… can you help me fix my dolly, so she looks like the real thing?” hesitatingly requested Casey.

“Here it comes,” cynically whispered Bob Billings to his grinning adopted son.

I never get tired of seeing her do it, Uncle Bob, sent the boy.

This is what Mom’s meant to do.

You know it – and so do I.

Yeah, sent back the ex-salesman.

Something way beyond you or me, kid.

“Why… of course,” said the “Sari”-girl to the child. “But to do that… we will have to have something to compare your dolly with. Would you like to see this?”

Casey silently nodded agreement.

All around could hear – or, perhaps, detect, using some heretofore-unrealized mental sense – the notes of an exciting, portentous melody, issuing from everywhere and nowhere.

“Behold!” spoke the “Sari”-girl, with rising grandeur in her voice, “If you would know what Karéin-Mayréij – her war-children, too – really look like – she, and they, look like… this!

Those around the place (even the “New People”, despite their advanced powers) perceived a blinding, microsecond-brief flash of light; and when eyes were able to re-focus, they saw the mighty Storied Watcher – clad in iridescent black scale-mail, suffused throughout with tiny, dancing motes of blue flame, with a skull-cap on the top of her head, a small shield on one arm, a deadly sword in a scabbard on her belt, two sinister-looking daggers just above her ankles and a dark cape flowing from her shoulders – still kneeling on the pavement, directly in front of an astonished, half-terrified young child.

There was a wave of heat which fortunately lasted only briefly; and there was also a different feeling, one that none could really make sense of. To the humans in the vicinity, it felt as if they were in the face of supernatural divinity; and not even the likes of the Storied Watcher’s erstwhile boyfriend, could tell whether or not this was the truth. She somehow looked much taller and larger than before; but her newly-revealed presence was physical, mental, emotional and psychic, all at the same time (though, in fact, her actual dimensions hadn’t changed).

Casey would have run – as would have her gasping parents, though not their elder son – but she, like they, was frozen in place by a combination of fear and awe.

The psycho-music ebbed, though it was still faintly audible.

The intimidating, fire-flickering alien-female – a dim, whitish-silver glow coming from the inner-parts of her eyeballs – uprighted herself and explained, “I came here meaning to purchase some food for my family; luckily, Bob and Tommy have already accomplished that task, so I have some, ahh, ‘free time’ in which to come to know you better – but mind you, not an unlimited time, as soon, we will likely have a lot of ‘interested onlookers’, crowding us. Fred, Beatrice, William and Casey… I say, ‘welcome’, to all of you… especially to your little one!”

She bent over slightly to directly address the trembling child.

“Sometimes, Casey,” mentioned Karéin-Mayréij, “The Gods have plans for me, and for you. I believe that this is one of those days. How long have you had that little figurine of my likeness?”

“Six months… I think,” haltingly answered the half-terrified child. “Mommy bought it for me for my birthday, because it was what I most wanted in the whole world. She had to order it special because it was sold out of all the stores.”

“Hey Hon,” quipped Bob Billings, “When are we going to go and beat up those businesses that are profiting off your, uhh, ‘intellectual property’? You ain’t getting a penny of royalties from those dolls, you know – not to mention all the other merch that they’re peddling, in your name.”

The Storied Watcher threw her head back and chuckled – revealing, for a half-second, some alarmingly-sharp canine teeth – and replied, “As I seek neither riches nor material reward, I would have to say that doing such, is an, ahh, ‘low priority’, my love… and besides, the more little ones like Casey here, who want to hold me in their hands – or next to their hearts – well, the better that would be, from my perspective. Casey… when you got your dolly, did you ever do such? That is, ‘dream of meeting me’?”

“All the time, each and every day,” earnestly answered the child.

“She’s not the only one,” managed William. “This is just too cool!”

A thought – it might have been a whisper, but somehow, his ears didn’t register a sound – came into the teenager’s head.

It is too cool… isn’t it? came the thought, in a female voice that must have been Eyrie’s.

Every time Angel Lady does this, it never gets ‘old’ for us. Even though we’ve seen it many times before.

It’s a, like, ‘mystical’ thing, you know.

Way beyond us… and we’re a few steps ahead of you, dude.

“These kids look up to you, Sari,” opined the ex-salesman. “I’m just glad there are no ‘Bob Billings’ dolls –”

“I wanted to buy one, Mister,” contradicted Casey’s sweet little voice, “They’ve got your whole family, you know. But Mommy said, ‘one doll is enough’… and anyway, your one was sold out, too.”

Billings sighed, looked wearily up, shook his head and said, “Oh… wonderful! That’s it, my dear – we need to have a stern conversation with a few marketing managers, I’m afraid. Do we have any ‘New People’ lawyers?”

A wry smile showed on the serene face of the Storied Watcher, as she replied, “I have done the best that I could, to avoid becoming entangled with these ‘lawyers’ to whom you refer; they seem to thrive on pointless confrontation so as to unnecessarily lengthen disputes. As to these dolls, however… I would like to obtain the full set – although I hope that the manufacturers have done a better job in reproducing your likeness, and that of Tommy, Elissha and Sayuri, than they have done of my poor self! Casey – would you be able to advise me, as to where I could, ahh, ‘place an order’?”

“Oh, for sure!” excitedly answered the child. “You just go to NeoNet – there’s this store, and –”

By now, her parents had partially recovered from the shock of what they had just seen.

Fred was barely able to manage,

“Holy crap! I mean, we never expected…”

Karéin-Mayréij smiled and replied, “I get that a lot, you know. And the next thing is… well, do you want to know what it is?”

“Yeah… of course,” stammered the father.

“It is, ‘would you and your family, be my friends?’,” explained the alien-girl.

“Sure we will… but why?” asked Beatrice.

“I need friends,” stated the Storied Watcher. “I never seem to have enough of them.”

“Someone like you? With all your, like, super-powers?” interjected an incredulous William Beaumont.

“Someone exactly like me,” confirmed Karéin-Mayréij. “And one of the greatest of the ‘super-powers’ available to mortal beings, is, ‘having a friend’. To struggle alone against adversity, is a fool’s game. In time, you will understand how correct this motto, actually is.”

“Can I be your… friend, Mrs. Storied Watcher?” requested Casey’s timid little voice.

The alien-girl bent over, holding her distance to slightly more than where the burning essence of her war-armor, would become uncomfortable for mortals.

She said, “Casey, I would be greatly honored, if you – and William, too – would be my friends. Though I should caution you, ‘being a friend of the Storied Watcher’ sometimes means, ‘exciting and unexpected things may happen to you; and when they do… you must be ready. Do you understand? If so, are you, ahh, ‘alright with that’?”

“I’m good with that, Ma’am!” quickly answered the Beaumont teenager.

“Be there no formality when you address me,” corrected Karéin-Mayréij. “Just ‘Karéin’ to you… your family too.”

“Cool, Karéin!” excitedly repeated William. “Can’t believe that I’m doing that!”

She shot him an odd look.

“Perhaps, my young friend,” observed the Storied Watcher, with a far-off, regal look that was now familiar to Billings and the others, “In time… you and Casey, will do many more things that scarcely can you now envisage.”

Whoa, sent the ex-salesman, to his alien girlfriend.

You mean, “they’re going to join the team”, Sari?

That will be, ahh, up to them, she silently responded.

My quest is, among many other things, to bring the Holy Fire to mortals; but each person, must decide for himself or herself, whether to accept her.

“Well… fine,” he said out loud, to the bewilderment of the Beaumont family (though, not to that of the others in the vicinity). “I suppose I the grand scheme of things, there are still a lot more of ‘them’, than there are of ‘us’. ‘Needing all the help we can get’, I guess.”

“There you go, dude,” supported Drew. “Like… ‘you can fit all of us New People into a phone booth’ – if there were any of those things, any more.”

“Casey,” offered Karéin-Mayréij, “In the interim – before we, ahh, do our ‘Nee-oh Net shopping-expedition’ – would you like to go for a ride? With me, I mean.”

“Sure… but where?” innocently asked the child.

“Anywhere that you want to go… on this planet, that is,” answered the Storied Watcher. “Although I would prefer to keep our trip within the northern hemisphere… that is, the half of the Earth that is north of that imaginary line that humans call the ‘ee-quay-tor’. Of course we can go anywhere, but visiting the South Pole, for example, might take a little more time than your parents would be comfortable with, so –”

“How are we going to get there?” interjected a visibly-excited Casey.

“The same way how I travel to most places to which I go,” smoothly explained the alien-girl. “By soaring up in the sky, as would a rocket-ship.”

Karéin-Mayréij pointed upwards with the index-finger of the dark scale-mail gauntlet on her left hand, and as she did, a small jet of blue flame shot in the same direction.

She added, “The force of gravity that binds ordinary humans to the surface of this world, means nothing to the New People… nor to me. We learn how to defy it, just as you learn how to walk.”

“You’ll have to get used to Vìrya Ahn’jë,” quipped Kevin McGregor. “To keep warm, I mean. It’s damn cold up there! Even for us… and we’re used to Canadian winters, of course.”

Sending an envious stare toward the two Toronto-born teenagers, William queried, “You mean, you guys can –”

With shared smirks, phlegmatic shrugs and a barely-visible glow in their eyes, Eyrie and Drew slowly began to rise off the pavement. In a second or two, they were a foot or so off the ground. Then they gradually came back down. A second later, the younger Canadian boy mimicked the action.

“Well… Tommy’s still teaching me, you know,” said Kevin McGregor. “Still getting the hang of it.”

“It’s freakin’ awesome, dude!” teased the Canadian girl, “You’ve got no idea. I’ve already hit 8,000 meters and 600 kilometers per hour, but Kev’s right, if you don’t keep your force-field up, it’s effin’ freezing when you get above the cloud-layer, and you’re, like, gasping for air.”

Force-field”, thought an envious William.

I read on Neo that these “New People” were, like, super-powerful… but Jaysus…

You don’t know the half of it, dude, came a random thought.

And the fact that you can hear me, is very good news for you.

“Yeah,” added Drew, “And it’s damn scary flying at night, especially at low levels in bad weather. One time about a month ago I was doing, like, 300 clicks or so, wasn’t paying attention – was just using my ‘human eyes’ – and I ran right into the side of hill. Nothing hurt but my pride, don’t you know… but I learned my lesson. I’m sticking to day-trips, for now.”

“Before you get any bright ideas,” continued Eyrie, “Did I mention, she keeps tellin’ us that we’re only supposed to go flying when nobody’s around, ‘to avoid causing a scene’. Isn’t that right, Angel Lady?”

“Do you want ‘pah-par-at-see-men’ besieging you with their cameras and incessant, privacy-invading questions, everywhere you go, my sister?” patiently counseled the Storied Watcher. “My arts tell me that they are on their way here, as we speak. This is, for better or worse, my fate; but I would prefer it not to be yours, not until you are ready. Is there any wisdom in the words that I speak?”

“Yeah,” ruefully admitted the teenager. “But it’s not my fault that I can’t, like, go invisible, like you do – so when Drew, Kev and I, uhh, ‘lift off’, everybody and his dog, gets to see us.”

“Perhaps, in time, you will learn of some other way to conceal yourselves,” proposed the alien-girl, with a kindly, supportive smile. “Powerful are you now; greater still, yet will you be. Much awaits you and your brothers, noble young super-hero Eyrie McGregor.”

“Wow,” said the Canadian teenager, as she exchanged stares with her brother. “Well, that’s good to hear.”

“Now just a minute, Ms. Mayréij –” protested a visibly-nervous Fred Beaumont. “I don’t think –”

“Just ‘Karéin’”, she corrected. “I do not have a last name… at least, not that I know of.”

“Okay, fine, whatever,” acknowledged the father. “It’s just that my daughter is much too young to go off on some, uhh, ‘flying-trip’ off to God-knows-where. And there’s something else; she has a physical condition. She needs constant accompaniment by people trained to support her, if she has a sudden, uhh, episode, so you must understand, we can’t –”

“I know it,” evenly replied the Storied Watcher. “I believe that this malady is called ‘epilepsy’, in your language, is it not?”

Casey put her hands over her ears and whined, “Don’t use that word! I don’t like it! I hate that thing!”

Again, Karéin-Mayréij came to rest on one knee, rather closer to the child than would have been comfortable considering the burning essence of the alien-girl’s weirding-armor; but somehow, this did not seem to faze the little girl.

“Casey,” said the Storied Watcher from under gold-glowing eyes, “I understand how you feel about this cruel thing that so afflicts you. I feel the sadness and frustration, right in your mind; and ‘can I really do that?’… yes, I can. What would you say, if I told you that I can cure this ‘epilepsy’, so it goes away and never, ever comes back?”

The child didn’t get an immediate chance to respond, as Beatrice interrupted,

“Please don’t say things like that to my daughter! Epilepsy’s a neurological condition… and it’s incurable! Frankly, I’m amazed that she hasn’t had a seizure in the last ten minutes – usually flashes of light, or excitement set her off. But whatever you are, there’s nothing you can do about it. All you’re doing is setting my daughter up for terrible disappointment. Please stop!”

“Mom,” cautioned William while he grabbed his mother’s forearm, “Chill! You got the faintest idea who you’re arguing with? She can, like, blow up the whole effin’ planet –”

Karéin-Mayréij arose and pivoted in place, turning to directly face the instantly-frightened human woman.

Though it had never fully waned, the alien-girl’s supernatural presence seemed to be waxing from second to second, as she temporarily diverted her attention to the Beaumont teenager.

“Actually, you know,” she noted with an insouciant shrug, “It is just a ‘comet’ that shattered under my burning wrath; and I would have to blast my way down through thousands of kil-o-mee-ters of rock, to reach the core of this planet, then to do the same –”

“I personally saw her do about a mile of bedrock, up in Alaska, you know,” observed Bob Billings. “I’m sure she’s good for a lot more than that.”

The Storied Watcher laughed and said, “A big challenge… one that never would I do, in any event. But could I? Perhaps. Now let me tell you about something that I can – the Gods and your mother willing – yea, that I will do.”

She turned to address Beatrice.

“Honored sister,” cajoled Karéin-Mayréij, “I realize that you speak only in what you perceive to be the best interests of your daughter… and in that, no reasonable person – certainly, not me – could fault you. But hear me now! My essence and substance are different from what has ever been on Earth; I can do things that the untutored call ‘miracles’. One of these is, ‘curing maladies that defy mundane treatments’. I will be honest – there may be some issues that can defy even my arts; but so far, none such as these have I encountered, ere I woke up on the fourth planet from your star. So doubt me not! However…”

“’However’… what?” uneasily asked Fred.

“Do you remember how I said that I would be honest with you?” mentioned the Storied Watcher.

“Please do,” requested Beatrice.

“Oh-kay,” complied the alien-girl. “Here is the – ahh – ‘trade-off’. I can cure Casey’s epilepsy-disease; of that, be assured; but, in so doing, I must change her… irrevocably. Her innate life-force will be supplemented by the enervating power of the Holy Fire – whose blessed name is Amaiish in my own tongue – and she will come to possess one or more of the ‘super-powers’ that you earlier heard Drew and Eyrie, speak of. That is, your daughter will become a ‘super-being’. Her life will be much longer than would otherwise have been the case, and many other blessings will she have bestowed upon her; but she will no longer be, ‘human’, and – as a ‘super-being’ – she will be expected to behave accordingly. For example, if there is a house-fire, and she is there, she must use her weirding-powers to save lives, as best she can. As Casey is not of the age of decision, you must decide on her behalf.”

“You probably don’t have a lot of time to chew this over,” unhelpfully added Bob Billings. “Usually the paparazzi track us down in a half-hour, max, from when we show up on anybody’s security-camera. Which, let me remind you, was a bit less than a half-hour ago, from right now.”

The Amerindian boy – who had been taciturn up to this point – spoke up.

“My mom’s an angel, you know,” he declared. “You don’t say ‘no’ to an angel!

“Let her do it!” plaintively demanded Eyrie. “It’s the greatest gift that anyone could ever get. Honestly.”

Utterly out of their depth, Beatrice and Fred Beaumont stared helplessly at each other.

Jaysus,” the father – completely unaware of the enhanced auditory abilities of those in the vicinity – whispered to his mate. “I thought we were gonna, like, maybe get a few quick bucks out of these jokers, but –”

“I don’t like it, Fred,” argued the wife, sotto voce. “I mean… a ‘super-being’ for a daughter? What if she, I don’t know, has a fit, and fires a death-ray or something, at us? Or –”

“The whole idea is to cure her of those ‘fits’,” contradicted an insincerely-smirking Bob Billings. “And I’ve got three ‘super-beings’ as kids, and we do just fine!”

“Yeah, but you can go invisible, and you’ve got a force-field to protect you from those death-rays,” observed Drew McGregor. “And about those mind-blowin’ green lightening-bolts that you can fire –”

“Whose side are you on, anyway?” countered the ex-salesman. “You do a sales-job, you never mention them little ol’ ‘negatives’, up front… let the customers figure them out, for themselves!”

An exasperated Karéin-Mayréij sighed wearily and looked upward to the heavens.

“We are not ‘selling’, anything here,” she stated. “We are offering up a path of greatness, nobility and – not incidentally – good health, to a dear child, whose sincere dreams of same can be fulfilled here, now, today. Casey’s mother and father seek to protect her out of love and duty, as any good parent would do… as I did myself for my three little ones, not very long ago. They must decide what is best for their daughter, and never would we disobey their word. So I say to my brother Fred and sister Beatrice… choose well!

Except for the faint pseudo-notes of war-songs (more than one, evidently, although it was hard to tell whose were actually playing) in the distance, silence fell momentarily upon the group. But eventually, Beatrice Beaumont forced herself to say,

“Casey… sweetheart… do you remember what the doctor said to us, before we came up here? About, like, how your, uhh, ‘problem’ might get worse, the older that you become? And how you would have to take more and more of those drugs, for the rest of your life?”

“Umm-hmm,” confirmed the little girl. “’Member what I told him?”

“Yeah,” answered the mother. “The drugs are ‘yucky’, but you were okay with taking them. Right?”

“Right,” replied Casey. “They make me feel awful sometimes, but if you and Daddy say I have to take them, then I will.”

“So… you don’t want to go with Ms. Karéin, then?”

“Yes, I do,” contradicted the child.

“But I thought you said –” stammered Fred.

“I want to go with Ms. Karéin, because I want to be like her,” explained Casey. “I want to be a super-hero. I want to learn how to fly, up in the air, like she does. I want to save people. It’s what I was meant to do, all along. Do you understand, Mommy?”

“No!” protested Beatrice. “You’re way too young to know what all that means, sweetheart! We want you to just be a daughter – our daughter –”

Ooo-ooo-ooo, sounded the entrancing, adrenaline-pumping chords of a slowly-waxing war-song, somewhere far off.

It seemed that the intimidating, divine presence of the Storied Watcher had surged along with the pseudo-music, as her next words were heard.

“They belong to you, yes, of course they do, for as long as you all shall live,” she claimed, “But they also belong to the world… to the service of your human brothers and sisters. A moment ago, your daughter spoken not in the voice of a child, but in those of the veritable Gods, themselves. Fred, Beatrice – I feel your thoughts of worry and unease, and never would I condemn these, they are perfectly natural and appropriate – but all children grow up sooner or later; yours will just do so, a little earlier than usual; and when they do, they will be as giants among men and women. This is what Fate has chosen for these two –”

These two?” feverishly speculated William’s racing mind.

Does that mean…?

Congratulations, dude! came the narrow-cast from Eyrie McGregor.

Welcome to the team!

“And it will be up to your son, as the elder one, to guide his sister, as the Holy Fire flowers and burns in each one’s heart,” continued Karéin-Mayréij. “It will take some, ahh, ‘getting-used-to’, but do not be scared! You will still be their parents, and they will still be your children. They will go to school, they will do everything that ‘normal’ children do… but they will have, ahh, a few more lessons to learn. I believe that these are called ‘ex-tra-coor-ee-kew-lar activities’, in Eng-lish –”

“Yeah,” muttered Drew, “Like, ‘don’t take your eyes off where you’re headed, when flyin’ at night.”

Ha, ha, maliciously sent his sister.

“Can you… can you really heal her?” tremulously asked Beatrice. “No, uhh, B.S.?”

With a steely – yet friendly – look in her eyes, the alien-girl replied, “Yes, I can. As surely as you see me here before you, today… this blessing, will the Storied Watcher of the Many Worlds, give to you and your child, asking nothing except your trust, in return.”

She got down on one knee, folded her hands in front in a prayer-gesture, looked up with a combination of supernatural grandeur and mundane humility at the man and woman and concluded,

“You can say ‘no’ and we will accept that, always being friends thereafter… but I beg you to say ‘yes’! Say ‘yes’, good parents! Open the path of nobility, for the next and future generations of Clan Beaumont of Milford, Delaware!”

How the hell does she know where we come from? mused an overwhelmed Fred Beaumont.

“Forgotten who you’re talking to, man?” chided Bob Billings. “So I’m told, I’m her ‘better half’… and most of the time, I don’t have a clue what the hell she’s up to, or what she’s capable of.”

With Karéin-Mayréij still maintaining her borderline-unnerving submissive-gesture, Fred asked,

“So how do you cope?”

“I kind of just go with the flow,” indifferently mentioned the ex-salesman. “‘Learn a new thing every day’, if you know what I mean. She can do this for your kid, you know. Let her. Please.

They both noticed that – apparently despite her best intentions – a wry grin had appeared at the far edges of the Storied Watcher’s mouth.

“What’s so funny?” idly inquired Billings.

“I do so try to be dignified – to respect the gravity of a situation,” she explained, “But always, dear Bob, do you, ahh, ‘bring me down to Earth’ – is that not how one says it?”

She looked downward, avoiding their eyes.

There was another prolonged pause; but eventually, Beatrice spoke,

“Maybe I’ll regret saying this… but if there’s even a chance of Casey being cured of this thing, I’d never forgive myself if I said ‘no’. So I guess that’s a ‘yes’. Fred?”

The Beaumont father – at his wit’s end – followed suit with, “You’re probably right about ‘regretting it later’, but yeah… I guess it’s worth a try. One condition, though.”

An exultant Storied Watcher, joy on her face (which was matched by the expressions on those of William and Casey), arose to her feet and asked, “And what would that be, friends?”

“If they start to, uhh, fly off somewhere – or do crazy, super-powered stuff like that – can we call you up, so you can come over and read ‘em the Riot Act?” demanded Fred Beaumont.

“Read them… read them the what?” responded a perplexed-looking Karéin-Mayréij. “That sounds like something from a play? Like, an ‘act’ of a theater-production, on stage, I mean?”

As giggles and guffaws went through the throng, Billings corrected, “No, no, hon… the ‘Riot Act’ is something that the cops warn unruly crowds about, like, they take a bull-horn and say, ‘everybody go home, or you’ll be arrested’ or whatever. It basically means ‘warning somebody that they’re misbehaving’… you get it?”

“Another Eng-lish ‘saying’,” grumbled the alien-girl. “That one cannot possibly know how to interpret, until it is explained. Oh well. Now I know about the ‘Riot Act’, as it is called. Hooray for me. Anyway, Fred, Beatrice – do not worry about this issue. Not only will I provide you with a way to, ahh, ‘call for me’, but moreover… I will introduce you to other human parents of ‘New People’, who have lately ended up in the same situation that you, happily, will shortly find yourself in –”

“Simon and Geraldine… right?” interrupted Drew McGregor.

“Uhh… yes,” answered the Storied Watcher.

“You might want to brief ‘em first… you know?” teased the male Canadian teenager.

“I am sure that all will be well,” parried the alien-girl. “I mean… the Billings clan of Phoenix have truly figured out how to cope with such issues as Fred raised, a minute ago –”

“You mean like when Dylan melted half of Mr. Simon Billings’ car-engine, when he tried to mimic what you did to start Mr. Bob Billings’ coche, back in, like, Idaho or whatever?” quipped Eyrie. “If I were you, Angel Lady, I’d hook Fred and Beatrice here up with our own Mom and Dad. They’re coping with the, uhh, ‘super-being’ thing, a bit better than those folks down in Arizona, if you know what I mean.”

“Except for the ‘we want our RV back’ thing,” maliciously added Drew. “Ever since you built that space-ship out of it, that is. Dad can’t get the insurance-claim processed until he can tell them, what really happened. He tried, but they didn’t believe him. Can’t blame them… I wouldn’t, if I was them.”

“Yes, but I did that to save… oh, forget it,” complained the Storied Watcher. “I will, ahh, ‘get around to that, real soon now’. I keep being called away to handle airplane-crashes, flash-floods and train-wrecks. ‘Priorities’, you know.”

“Can we take back saying ‘yes’?” nervously requested Beatrice Beaumont.

“No take-backs, stamped it, no rub-outs!” cheekily exclaimed Tommy.

“No!” contradicted Casey. She rushed over to the flaming embrace of Karéin-Mayréij, who held the child tightly. Beatrice and Fred were initially shocked and terrified, as they expected Casey to be badly burned. But – to their mutual astonishment – the little girl seemed not to be harmed in the least.

“How does it feel, little one?” gushed the Storied Watcher.

Nice,” replied Casey. “Like I’m getting stronger, all the time.”

“It’s started,” evenly mentioned Bob Billings.

“Hey, William!” called Eyrie.

“Yeah?” replied the teenager.

“Close your eyes,” demanded the Canadian girl.

“Why should I?” he countered.

“It’s just a quick test,” she claimed. “You’ll feel something weird, like, surrounding you – kinda hard to describe, there’s nothing I can really compare it to – try not to fight it. Then you’ll feel yourself lifting up a bit. I’ll count to three, and then I’ll let you down; but – with your eyes still closed – try to imagine landing on one of those rubber mats that they have on the floor in Judo class. Except think that there are, like, three of them piled one on top of the other, between you and the pavement. Got it?”

With a look of trepidation William shut his eyelids, muttering, “This sounds stupid, but as long as she’s on-board with it – hey, Karéin, you are on-board, aren’t you –?”

“Oh… for sure, young prince,” came back the bemused-sounding reply.

“Young… what? Whatever,” he said. “Okay, go for it.”

“Here we go,” declared Eyrie; and now, all in the vicinity heard the exciting, warbling notes of her personal war-song, as – to the surprise of none, save the boy’s parents – his feet started to slowly lift off the surface of the parking-lot, rising at a speed of about an inch every two seconds. He stopped at a height of perhaps a foot.

“Holy crap,” inveighed William, “No shit, it feels ‘weird’… like I’ve got little hands pressing in on me from everywhere, pushing up… but there’s nothing solid doing it, I can tell… damn…”

“Oh-kay,” continued Eyrie. “Now, don’t let your feet hang down – keep ‘em flat to the ground. Three-count, and down you go. Remember – you’re landing on a big cushion, right under your shoes. Ready?”

Her psycho-music was still playing – albeit, in a more muted way – in the background.

“As I’ll ever be, which is ‘not at all’,” muttered William.

“Consider yourself as getting off easy,” maliciously interjected Bob Billings. “I had to hop a hundred feet into the dark, when I took my own first ‘jump into the unknown’.”

“Three… two… one,” counted the Canadian girl. “Down we go!

The planet’s gravity worked on William and he dropped; but at a height of about six inches, his downward motion ebbed considerably, and then – with his feet no more than about an inch off the ground – he stopped entirely.

He was floating, albeit at a marginal height, over the pavement surrounding the grocery-store.

“You might want to open your eyes,” instructed Eyrie.

William complied, and – half-afraid – he looked downward.

Something’s wrong here, he thought.

But what the hell is it? I don’t see –

There were satisfied smirks on the faces of everyone except his parents (whose expression was one of wide-eyed, wary amazement).

“What’s so, uhh, ‘interesting’?” he asked.

“Put one foot out and step forward,” suggested Drew. “See what happens, dude.”

Reluctantly, William did so, extending his left foot. To his surprise, he immediately discovered that this dropped down as if he had missed a step on a ladder or staircase, partially unbalancing him; fortunately, however, the distance involved was minuscule, and he remained upright, though leaning forward at an awkward angle.

“Now move the other one,” requested Eyrie.

“I feel like a little kid learning how to walk,” mumbled William.

As he moved his right foot, it, too, dropped down, until both of his feet were firmly-ensconced in normal fashion, on the surface of the parking-lot.

“You’re not learning how to walk,” smugly counseled Eyrie. “Not that, at all.”

“Well… what, then?” peevishly responded William.

“You’re learning how to fly,” she answered, with an overjoyed look. “You were floating, a bit off the pavement, until you started walking forward – which, as we get told, signals to your brain, ‘turn off the telekinesis’. You know what that all means?”

Eyrie’s war-song, never completely extinguished, now sounded somewhat louder.

“Uhh… no, not really,” uneasily replied the American teenager.

“You’re one of us now,” observed Drew McGregor. “Welcome to the alien side, man!”

“That… that fast?” stammered William.

“Took two seconds for your sister to learn how to ignore Angel-Lady’s permanent-campfire armor, you know,” added Eyrie. “Not a half hour before we met you in the store, if she or you had tried that, you’d be in a hospital for six months, if you survived long enough to get to an ambulance. Like my bro’ said, dude… ‘welcome to the New People’. You and Casey are on the high-road, now. Buckle up – it’s gonna be quite a ride!

“It feels nice in here,” came the child’s contented voice, from within the Storied Watcher’s cradling arms. “It’s warm… but in a funny way. I don’t think there’s words for this, Mommy and Daddy.”

Nervously, Fred Beaumont reached out in the direction of the Storied Watcher, until his finger was almost in contact with Vìrya Ahn’jë’s burning surface; but upon pushing forward yet, he yelped in pain, muttered a muffled curse and tried to soothe the pain of a seared finger-tip, by inserting it into his mouth.

“I… I don’t understand,” he said. “Touching you is like touching the fire from a blow-torch! How is Casey –”

“Because she’s a ‘super-being’ now,” evenly interjected Kevin McGregor. “Like Tommy, me and the rest of us.”

“Her personal force-field protects her, and her clothes as well,” explained Karéin-Mayréij. “This is usually one of the first weirding-arts to develop in a New Person – as is the mind-push-pull power, just demonstrated by newly-discovered young prince William. Like many other aspects of the Holy Fire, I do not know why this is; but I have accepted it. Although… when first I, ahh, landed on this planet, this blessing was often late-coming to the New People, and that fact placed many members of my family – not least, my beloved Bob and Tommy – in terrible straits –”

“You can say that again, Sari,” grimly noted Billings. “It was hell. We almost died, due to the tender mercies of the U.S. government – they wanted us dead, for reasons good, bad or indifferent. I still honestly don’t have a clue how we survived the whole nightmare. You new, New People recruits don’t know how good you’ve got it –”

“You never told us that the damn U.S. government was hunting you!” shouted an alarmed Fred Beaumont, more loudly than would have been advisable, considering the proximity of grocery-shoppers only a hundred or so feet away. “Does that mean they’ll be trying to hurt –”

“Chill!” requested the ex-salesman with a “hands-down” gesture, “That was then; this is now. Sari, Tommy and me – along with a few others of us – visited the White House and kind of reached a working arrangement with them –”

“Only after we wrecked the Oval Office, though,” added a smirking Tommy. “After we scared the President shitless –”

He suppressed a giggle, upon receiving an exasperated, cautioning stare from his alien “mother”.

The Amerindian boy, and Kevin McGregor, exchanged “high-fives”.

“Well, yeah… we did kind of do a number on him – that much is true,” elaborated Bob Billings. “But at the end of the day, he had to call off the goons that were chasing us, and so far, our little ‘truce’ has held admirably. Truth is, folks – we’re the meanest S.O.B.’s in the valley… capiche? Even without Sari’s help, neither the President of the United States, nor any of the other ones at his level, have much of a chance against us. They all know that. So don’t worry. The kids are alright, if you know what I’m saying.”

“It’s true, Dad,” mentioned William Beaumont. “I saw a bunch of videos on Neo, and it looked like Karéin and the rest of them had, like, made up with the President. Or maybe it was that he had made up with them –”

“Much more the latter,” smugly observed Bob Billings. “He didn’t have much of a choice.”

“Our relationship with the American government has certainly, ahh, ‘evolved’ over time,” carefully stated the Storied Watcher. “Right now, I would describe it as ‘polite, if not always completely cordial’. The President has his duties and jurisdiction; the New People and I, have our own. There is much for us to do – for example helping people to survive and recover from natural disasters and other such mishaps – that do not bring us into conflict with human governments.”

“Like the rest of us,” she continued, “William and Casey will have to learn how to use their abilities, always in the service of others – never for their own aggrandizement; and to make this clear, I will shortly have a solemn pledge for both of them to repeat in my presence. They will have to fully agree to its terms and conditions for the Holy Fire to flourish within them – just as you will have to learn to accept many other developments – some with which you will likely be unfamiliar and unprepared – while your children grow, both in age and weirding-powers. But do not be afraid! This is a great thing… a wonderful thing!”

“I guess we’ll have to see,” commented a clearly-worried Beatrice Beaumont. “Since we’re in too far to get out.”

“So… what do we do now?” asked Fred.

“The publicity-men are on their way here,” advised the Storied Watcher. Looking kindly downward at the child’s cradled figure, she asked, “Casey… have you decided where you want to go?”

“I want to go see that big tower that leans over,” demanded the little girl. “But… I kinda forgot what it’s called, or where it is. If you can find it, can you fix it? So it’s standing straight up, I mean.”

Karéin-Mayréij laughed and replied, “The building to which you refer is called the ‘Leaning Tower’, and it is in a city called ‘Pisa’ on a sea-coast in the country of Italy, far across yonder Atlantic Ocean. Could I, ahh, ‘straighten it up’? Sure I could – but I should not, because as New People, we use our powers when we have to, not just when we want to. Still, if I were to take you there, just to look and to touch it… would you come with me, Casey?”

“I sure would!” excitedly squealed the child.

“Across the Atlantic Ocean?” protested a frightened Beatrice Beaumont. “That’s thousands of miles! Apart from it being terribly dangerous to try to cross it – we’ll be waiting here for a day or more, before you could get back –”

“Actually, it will take us a little less than an hour to travel there, and another to return,” diffidently countered the alien-girl. “As I recall, it is about 7,000 of your ‘kil-o-mee-ters’ distance from here. Of course I could travel much faster than this, but to do so would require flying into above the strat-o-sphere for both parts of the trip, and I would not want to, ahh, ‘stress’ your children too much. Their force-fields are yet undeveloped, and might not fully protect them in the outer atmosphere.”

She paused for a second and added, “I should also point out that factoring in travel-time, it will be early evening in Italy, when we arrive. In other words, we may have trouble finding a rest-o-raunt where we can order a nice, authentic pizza. Ah… such are the issues with flying to the far side of a planet!”

“You can’t – nobody can –” stammered Fred.

There was a smirk on William’s face as he accosted his father, saying, “Dad… remember what I said to Mom? Don’t forget who you’re talking to, here! Did you hear what she did to that big, uhh, what was it –”

“It was the Washington Monument, in the city where the President lives,” triumphantly reminded Tommy. “Mom sliced the top third of it clean off, by blasting it with her energy-beams! And she dropped the top part into the President’s front lawn –”

There was a malicious grin on the Storied Watcher’s face as, under brightly-glowing eyes, she interrupted, saying,

“That was kind of ‘impressive’… was it not? Well, after all, at the time, the President was not taking me seriously… so I felt that I needed to, ahh, ‘get his attention’. I would say that I succeeded! As I understand it, the American government is trying to figure out how to put the top-part of that obelisk back where it belongs; I really must head down there to assist them, ‘one of these days’. Lamentably, I have so many other priorities on my scheduling-app, you know. In any event – time is growing short; if we are to leave here before the pa-par-at-zee show up, it must be in the next few minutes. William?”

“What?” asked the teenager.

“Are you coming?” pressed the alien-girl. “With us, I mean.”

“But I’m too big for you to carry, like I guess you’re going to do with Case, there – I’ll fall off, and –” he nervously argued.

“Just put your arm behind my back, crossing my neck,” instructed Karéin-Mayréij. “Vìrya Ahn’jë will no more hurt you than she has done to Casey; and my own tel-ee-kin-ee-sis is powerful enough to lift an ocean-liner-ship over my head, so I suspect that I will have no trouble ensuring that you will, ahh, ‘stay with us’.”

Shit,” inveighed William. “I mean, I always wanted to see Italy, but our class trip got canceled when the, uhh, ‘comet’ thing came along – look, Case, couldn’t you pick something a bit, like, nearer? Maybe New York City, or –”

“Nope!” smugly responded the little girl. “We’ve been there, anyway. I want to see that bending-over tower!”

“Okay, fine, whatever,” retreated William. With a worried expression he stepped over to come alongside the alien-girl; then, wincing all the way, he gingerly draped his left arm over the Storied Watcher’s supple shoulder.

“Damn,” he managed to say. “Case’s right – this is, like, the ultimate in weirdness… I can feel how hot it is, but somehow, it doesn’t hurt. Crazy stuff.”

“Now, now, young prince… Vìrya Ahn’jë is not an ‘it’; she is a living being, and much can you learn by conversing with her and her other siblings, who adorn my body,” gently chided Karéin-Mayréij. “You and Casey will have plenty of time to do that, as we go forth… once you have recited the ‘pledge’, that is. Are you ready?

William and Casey both silently nodded.

Her ethereal, stirring, inspiring war-song – with the sounds of an orchestra of violins and other, less familiar musical-instruments, detailing its melody – waxed rapidly in the background.

The alien-girl looked skyward. Her eyes were glowing bright-yellow. The heat of her divine presence became oppressive (although, inexplicably, this did not seem to affect the two Beaumont children, who were up close with her).

“To Pisa!” she called out. “Back in two hours, friends!”

With shocking speed – far more than, Fred and Beatrice realized, a human being could withstand – the mighty Storied Watcher rocketed upward, almost too fast even for more-than-human eyes could track.

The two bewildered, heart-sick Beaumont parents huddled together, with both leaning forward from the stern-end of a nearby car.

A genial smile on his face, Bob Billings slowly approached them. He turned to the three Canadians and asked,

“We gotta put the groceries away… but say, do you kids know of any good restaurants around here?”

– END –

Jerry has a new war-song! (And… a note about his abilities.)

As many of you already know, the more powerful characters in the Angel Brings Fire novel series, have a “war-song” — a mysterious type of half-psychic, half-real “music” that sometimes plays when these characters energize or use the alien-powers that they have inherited from the Storied Watcher.

In previous editions of the blog I have added posts that try to describe (in a very general way) what these “war-songs” sound like. The information provided earlier on is still valid, but as time goes by and as I encounter more popular music, I reserve the right to amend the allocations of “whose war-songs sound like what ‘real’ song”.

Today’s one such day… in the last “war-songs” posting I had the following remark about Jerry Kaysten, the former Chief of Staff to the (original) President of the United States :

Jerry Kaysten : Calgary by Bon Iver, but only the short part beginning at the song’s 1:50 mark; this melody predominates when Jerry uses his “killer joke” ability. When running at high speed, his war-song sounds more like Time Turns Around by the Spoons.”

This is still accurate but there is a different piece of music that much better replicates what the quick-footed Mr. Kaysten’s personal war-song actually sounds like : the fantastic “My Decision” number by the Netherlands pop-rock group, Moss. (Not to be confused with the U.K. heavy-metal band of the same name.)

Make sure you check this one out on YouTube… it’s not only what Jerry sounds like when he gets going, but it’s a crazy good song anyway! (And it’s available for sale on iTunes, so do the right thing and pay these innovative musicians for the use of their creative works… I did.)

As an aside… it may at first seem that Jerry Kaysten’s alien-powers are relatively mundane compared to those of some of the other “post-humans” (particularly ones like Cherie Tanaka and Wolf).

In fact, nothing could be further from the truth. Jerry’s hyper-speed abilities, although they can only be used for a relatively short amount of time between resting-periods, can render most opponents — either “more-than-human” or just plain old Homo Sapiens — next to defenseless.

Only a very few other characters, for example Misha or Minnie Chu (and of course the Storied Watcher herself), have the reflexes and quick reaction time to adequately defend themselves against Jerry’s rapid-fire attacks. Others, such as Bob Billings, have abilities that somewhat erode Kaysten’s advantages but are still not a complete defense against him.

So give our friend Mr. Kaysten some respect… he may look like an “also-ran”… but he’s anything but! 😉

Marcus Shields



Lost Chapter #5 : Doubt Me Not – Cabinet-Meeting

This is another scene that still exists in the formal Doubt Me Not narrative, but which has been drastically cut back for reasons of brevity and plot. The dialog picks up in a cabinet-meeting called by the President in a secluded location, in which the American leader and his most senior advisers are reviewing the situation in the wake of the “Lucifer” comet’s destruction.


Anyway,” continued the Science Adviser, “What we have now is an unusual impact-site… the joint Air Force and NSA team checked hundreds of these, all of which we considered were within the theoretical boundaries of where the alien could have fallen, and apart for a few that we haven’t yet been able to access for various reasons – for example because they’re at the bottom of bodies of water or in really inaccessible areas, like the highest peaks of the Rockies – this is the most interesting one because of the impact-pattern.”

How so?” asked the President, noticing that several others, save Billy Horn, were now listening more intently. Evidently neither McPherson, nor the brass, had shared the news with others in the Executive Branch.

Well,” answered McPherson, “The impact-furrow (on the ground, that is), is quite narrow, but there’s a wide pattern of burn-marks on either side of it… the kind that you’d expect from the impact of a much larger object. And the charring that we analyzed is indicative of a very intense heat – over twenty thousand degrees Celsius, in fact; which is way more than you would expect from a normal meteorite, unless the object was somehow heated by some internal chemical reaction, on top of the heat caused by atmospheric re-entry-friction.”

Wow,” commented the President. “Anything else?”

Yes,” said the Science Adviser. “Furthermore, Mr. President, at the end of the impact-path, there’s a large indent in a boulder, accompanied by the same kinds of burn-marks, where whatever it was that landed, probably ended up. Yetdespite extensive diggingwe couldn’t find so much of a trace of a meteorite at the site. Even if the object shattered upon striking the boulder, there should have been traces of it deposited in the surrounding area, but there’s nothing at all. It’s as if something crashed to Earth, left a trail of smashed trees and so on in its wake, then just disappeared.”

(more dialog that is in the book, then…)

Look, I’ll say my piece, then I’ll shut up,” retorted the Science Adviser. “Mr. President, please try to consider what the General is asking us to believe, here. First, that the alien even was anywhere in the vicinity of Earth, either at the time of the ‘Lucifer’ incident, or slightly later on… I’ll admit one part of me wants to believe that, too, I mean, what with the strange light and the music… but just for the sake of argument, let’s suppose that she was.”

You know, Professor,” interjected Anderson, “We de-briefed Jacobson and his crewexcept for the Russian, who refused to talk to us ‘on orders from his government’, that is – shortly after the ‘Lucifer’ incident, and while their answers were all somewhat evasive, they certainly all believed that the alien ‘saved’ us from the comet. We’re planning on doing a proper interrogation when and if they get back to Earth, but from what we’ve so far heard from them, and remember they had more direct contact with this ‘Karéin’ than anyone else, they said –”

McPherson spoke up, cutting off Anderson, “Yes, I know, General, but you’re conveniently leaving out the fact that they all believe that the alien also died, in the act of destroying the comet. And to continue with what I was saying before, second, we would have to assume that this being survived the greatest explosion that Earth has ever witnessed, larger by far than the most powerful nuclear explosion that we’ve been able to set off; then, she – it – would have had to have survived atmospheric re-entry at a speed of thousands of kilometers per hour, then she or it would have had to have survived impact with Earth at the same speeds… after which, the General is asking us to believe that she just got up and walked away, on the face of a planet that would be as alien to her, as she is to us. Oh – and I forgot to mention – relative to the surface-area of the rest of the Earth, the United States is a very small place. It’s unlikely that she’d have fallen here – the chances are much higher, unfortunately, that she’d have simply landed in the ocean. In which case, she would almost certainly have drowned… which would be a terrible tragedy, but the whole idea of her landing here is very unlikely, anyway.”

No more so,” said Anderson, “Than the idea of this ‘Karéin’, flittering around in outer space, without even a space suit… correct, Mr. McPherson?”

No – vastly more so,” answered McPherson. “Sure, I’d have to admit that she seemed to be able to do that. But for her to have done what I just described would require abilities that are not just far beyond anything that we’re familiar with – but, more to the point – far beyond anything that she ever said she was capable of, either to myself or to Captain Jacobson – I’ve studied every minute of the video recordings from the Infinity and Eagle, and nowhere do I see her claiming these types of godly powers. Indeed… she told all of us the exact opposite, more than once. And, anyway, there’s something else that’s even more implausible about this idea – at least in my mind.”

What could be less plausible than the idea of the alien just walking away from that kind of experience?” asked the President.

The idea, sir,” replied McPherson, “That she could do all that, get up and walk away, then not be noticed by anyone… if – incidentally – she was for some unknown reason trying not to be recognized as herself. I mean, for God’s sake, Mr. President, consider what we’re saying here – imagine that you’re some average citizen, sitting there saying your ‘Hail Mary’s after still being alive, a half hour after you and all of creation were supposed to have been wiped out by a killer comet, and then an alien with glowing eyes crashes down on the next hill, walks up to you and says, ‘take me to your leader’ (or whatever a ‘Storied Watcher’ says, when she shows up on Earth). Don’t you think you’d tell someone?”

With a wry grin, the HHS Secretary interjected, “I sure would. It’d be worth a lot of money and instant fame… I’d probably make it on to the talk-shows.”

After the laughter had mostly died down, Anderson spoke up.

“You’re not being ‘scientific’, sir,” he said, in McPherson’s direction. “There are many possible explanations to what might happen, in those circumstances. Ranging from the chance that there were no human beings around the impact site at the time, to the possibility that the alien might have died shortly thereafter, due to an infection from Earth-organisms… you know, the War of the Worlds idea, to the possibility that she might have… eliminated whomever saw her, or it, to cover her tracks.”

The laughter now stopped, abruptly.

Those hypotheses are also very unlikely,” argued McPherson. “I suppose it’s certainly possible that there was nobody around when and if she arrived here; but the crash-site that we’re discussing today isn’t that far from civilization – it’s just ten or so miles down to the highway, in fact – at least if you don’t turn in the wrong direction and try to cross the Rockies by going north all the way to the Yukon. As far as disease is concerned, this ‘Karéin’ said specifically to Captain Jacobson that she was immune to Earth-germs, and we have evidence of her having survived extended, close contact to Jacobson and his crew, with ‘zero’ ill-effects. And for her to attack the first Earth-based humans that she might have met, would be completely out of character, given the behavior that she exhibited while she was with the crew of the Eagle and Infinity. To say nothing of the fact that there’s no even remotely likely motive for her doing so – use common sense, General; you’re completely alone, on a strange planet, and the first thing you do is attack or murder someone? No halfway intelligent being would do something like that. Antagonizing the inhabitants of your new home without a very good reason, would be tremendously risky… if I were her, I’d probably think it would be tantamount to suicide.”

Not if you’re so powerful that you think nobody can hold you to account,” said another Air Force general. “Or, if the first human to encounter you, got scared and took a pot-shot or two at you, with his or her trusty .22 rifle. What if she unintentionally just got into some kind of confrontation with a human, defended herself the only way she knew how, then went underground to avoid being caught for it? There are thousands of possible reasons why she might pose a threat. We can’t rule anything in or out, at this point.”

McPherson, seeing who spoke, sent a hurt look to Symington.

(more dialog that is in the book, then the Vice-President speaks…)

What I’m getting at, Mr. President, is that in my opinion, we have to contain news of this development – assuming, of course, that there’s any truth in it – at almost any cost.”

I had been planning on keeping it hush-hush, anyway – you know that, George,” replied the President. “But why are you so concerned about just secrecy? From what I’ve been hearing so far, that’s not the worst of our concerns.”

The Vice-President got up and vigorously strode back and forth, as he inveighed.

It’s really quite simple, you see,” he declared. “Now… if the alien really is wandering around down here, and if she has all the godly abilities that our good friends in the Pentagon,” – he shot an obliging glance to Anderson – “seem to think she has, we could have mass panic, and a total breakdown of what authority we’ve been able to re-assert, since the whole ‘Lucifer’ thing; I mean, there’s a sizable number of people who think that the creature is, or was, the ‘Anti-Christ’, or something like that, right now; imagine how much worse that school of opinion could get, if she goes from being some imaginary devil to something very powerful but real, tangible, and right here. Especially if it turns out that she can’t be controlled or defeated by all the forces of the U.S. government; nothing could be worse, for our position of power and authority… and we all know how bad things are already, in that regard – bloody gangs are basically in control of at least five major cities including L.A., last I checked, and as it is it’s going to take the Army and National Guard months to go in there, shoot whomever they need to, and let ’em know that Uncle Sam’s back in the driver’s-seat. Not to state the other obvious issue – that is – she might just walk in here, sit down at the desk you’re now occupying, and start issuing orders to us. So I’m afraid that if it looks like any of the stories about her are true, I’m with the General… we’d better ‘neutralize’ her swiftly and effectively, or, at best, we’ll be faced with a completely new authority competing with us for the loyalty of the public; at worst, possibly something like the worst of those Bible-prophecies that Mr. Horn’s constituents keep telling us about.”

But what if –“ started McPherson.

Now it’s my turn to say, ‘I know what you’re thinking’, Professor,” interrupted Horn. “Consider the other alternative… that she’s really here, but that all of these high-falutin’ powers that she was credited with by Captain Jacobson and his crew were the result of some kind of mass-hallucination, bad air in that there space station affectin’ their minds, or such… a much more likely kind of ‘super power’ for her to have, than what we’ve been told by Jacobson, in my opinion – but that’s really secondary to the issue, anyway. If we take action against the alien and she’s really just a nice, ‘E.T.’-type friendly green girl, and it gets out into the press, it could be a different kind of P.R. disaster for us… you know, ‘nasty Men In Black hurt harmless alien girl’. Especially if we end up killing her. We’d probably lose a lot of sympathy votes, and, so my able polling-experts tell me, they’re in the states where we’re most vulnerable, next election-cycle.”

Lost Chapter #4 : Doubt Me Not – Reminiscing

A heavily-cut-down version of this chapter is still in The Angel Brings Fire Book 2, Doubt Me Not; this version, however, provides a little more background information about what the space-goers were up against, in making plans for coping with the aftermath of the “Lucifer” incident, not to mention what to do with the already-desperate situation on board the ISS2 space station.

Doubt Me Not – Reminiscing

“Just out of interest,” continued Cohen, “How many people do you think that Infinity and Eagle, together, could accommodate? Shivani?”

It all depends on how long a trip we are expecting them to make, while in these ships,” said Parmar. “My calculations indicate that if we do not offload any of the Eagle or Infinity’s air supply to ISS2 – something that I would remind you we had planned to do, to maintain our life-support on the station itself – these two ships could probably support up to fifty or so people for a trip of, say, two to three days. Or six to ten for a trip of a few weeks. Or somewhere in between, for intermediate-duration trips. These estimates all assume that the individuals in question are basically sedentary; if they engage in any strenuous activity and therefore start breathing more rapidly, they would exhaust the available supplies more quickly. I could give you a precise estimate if I knew exactly how many you wanted to transport.”

“Taking Li’s point in hand,” continued the Israeli, “The difference between the last time and what we would be doing here is, an explosion within the engines of either the Infinity or the Eagle could render both of them unusable, whereas at least the previous booster was external to ISS2’s main structure. Even at that, when it blew, it made part of the station uninhabitable. If we do that to Commander Jacobson’s ships, we would then have no obvious way to get anyone off the station, except for a few emergency egress-modules and space-suits. I don’t need to explain what might happen, then.”

“Commander,” replied the East Indian woman. “I suppose I should start by saying that as far as I can tell, the crew is in fairly good shape, considering… considering how they might have been, had the eventual outcome of the incident been the way we had expected it to turn out.”

The way it would have turned out, the way it inevitably must have turned out,” interrupted Jacobson, forcefully, “Except for… her.”

Tanaka hung her head, tears suddenly in her eyes.

Yes, Commander Jacobson,” replied Shivani Parmar. “Except for your ‘Karéin-Mayréij’. There is nobody on this ship who does not understand what we – everyone on Earth, need it be said – owes that alien.”

It appears,” impassively commented Chen, “That not everyone on Earth shares your assessment of this sequence of events, Madame Parmar. I have a separate channel to Beijing and have received a few messages from them. In fact, there is considerable confusion about what actually took place. Some parties are speculating that the comet was, in fact, destroyed by the ‘Salvador Two’ ship. We must recall that it had a substantial payload of nuclear devices, and… possibly also by some new kind of weapon, previously not revealed by any of the major powers. I asked my superiors if this weapon was Chinese, but they did not give me a definitive answer. Other parties say that the comet disintegrated naturally, due to the weaknesses that had been introduced into it from the previous attacks.”

That’s nonsense, you know it, and she’s – she was – not just an ‘alien’,” quietly countered Tanaka, wiping a tear. “She was our crew-mate… our friend. A sister to me.”

I am not voicing an opinion on this matter, Madame Tanaka,” replied Chen. “I am only reporting what I have heard. But if I assume that your theory regarding the alien’s contribution to the destruction of the comet is correct… then I share your regret. Even if not, in fact. The loss of scientific knowledge to mankind caused by her death is great. No doubt we could have learned much from this ‘Karéin-Mayréij’.”

You’ll never know the magic she could have taught you, thought Tanaka.

Maybe that’s as it should be, after all.

I never met her, you know, except for seeing her floating out there, in front of ISS2; now that was quite a sight, I’ll have to admit,” mused Humber, with a far-away look in his eyes, “But I know what you mean, Cherie. I feel it, down deep in my heart, somewhere, it’s like I knew her, for only a second or two, but I did. I really did.”

Jacobson arched an eyebrow and shot a quick glance at Humber, then Tanaka. “Do you think he –” Jacobson whispered to his Science Officer, but then another spoke up.

Anyway,” stated Parmar, “There will be time to discuss that affair, later. Maybe a memorial… that would be my suggestion. But regarding the crew, Commander, I have not yet finished my interviews with all of them – I am maybe three-quarters of the way through – but other than for a few who have needed additional rest due to the after-effects of the stress of the last few days, they are holding up quite well. The most serious problem appears to be communications with loved-ones and family back on Earth; Michael Theodikas has been trying to re-establish all the up-links and down-links, but much of the Earth’s communications-infrastructure appears to have been either destroyed or damaged. Michael has, in fact, been able to access some of these channels but when he does, he is being told that all transmissions of a non-essential nature are still prohibited. We asked when this situation would end, but did not get a firm answer – all they would say is ‘maybe in a few weeks’.”

I was able to get through to Charlie,” interjected Humber. “But then, I had to bend the rules a bit, assisted by Mike poking around in some channels he’s not supposed to touch. I owe the bloke one for that.”

Ordinarily,” replied Cohen, “As station-commander, I’d have to tell you to stop that kind of thing, Alan. For now, my orders will be, ‘write what you did, and how you did it, down’, so that the top five or so from the rest of the crew who need the same kind of access, can get it.”

With a knowing smile, Jacobson said, “Ah… the art of command. Well, Devon told me that Mike Theodikas was a lot like him. I suppose the purpose of a communications-officer is to communicate, whether or not the powers that be want you to.”

Lost Chapter #3 : Angel of Mailànkh – A Little More Hot Air From Earth

This third “Lost Chapter” is still in the novel, but was radically reduced in size with much of the explanatory narrative removed. It occurs immediately after McPherson announces (via commlink) Earth’s plans for the “Salvador Two” mission. :

Angel of Mailànkh – A Little More Hot Air From Earth

White was the first one to see the “incoming” light come alive, on the heads-up status panel. “Yo, Captain,” he said, “Message from Houston. Want to screen it first?”

No, Devon,” replied Jacobson, “I don’t think that’s necessary. You may as well put them through.”

White complied with a couple quick keystrokes and the view-screen lit up, revealing Symington, Ramirez and McPherson; Abruzzio did not appear to be there. Ramirez spoke first.

Hello, Eagle and Infinity,” he said, “This is Hector Ramirez down here at Houston. I have General Symington and Fred McPherson here with me – Sylvia is busy with the Arks project which, as you can no doubt imagine, is now going into its ‘full speed ahead’ phase, so she’s not with us today, she sends her regrets. I’m going to turn the floor over to Fred and then to the General, so they can bring you up to date on what our current status and plans are.”

The camera moved slightly to the left from Ramirez, centering on McPherson. The man looked tired and he had a touch of five o’clock shadow.

Thanks, Hector,” McPherson said. “First of all, I don’t think I need to inform you of the results of the missile attack on the ‘Lucifer’ object… it’s no secret that we’re, to put it mildly, disappointed in what has occurred, or rather, in what didn’t happen. But,“ he sighed, “There’s no point in dwelling on the past; we have to look to the future, and to next steps, now. Before I move to that, though, I’d like to commend Cosmonaut Sergei Chkalov for his fine work in assisting our long-range damage assessment scans on the comet. The data that Cosmonaut Chkalov has revealed has been of tremendous importance in helping us understand the facts and to make plans. So, Sergei, thanks again, and if you find out anything else, please don’t hesitate to send it our way.”

Chkalov nodded modestly.

After a short pause, McPherson continued, “As I said before, you guys up there are probably aware of the situation, but just so that we’re sure that everyone is on the same knowledge base, I’ll recap it briefly here. Bottom line is, we threw everything that we could scrape up against the damn comet, but, unfortunately, it appears not to have been enough – ‘Lucifer’ has been damaged, but not destroyed, and it is still on a collision course with Earth. Now, as you may also be aware, the story is not all bad, because – thanks largely to the efforts of your cosmonaut friend up there – we have discovered that the comet’s internal structure has been weakened by the attack. By how much, we’re not sure, but we are continuing our assessment, and I should tell you that associated with this we have also initiated another manned mission – in effect, ‘Salvador Two‘ – against the comet to see if we can succeed in blowing it apart, by placing nuclear explosives so as to leverage the instability caused by the missile attack…”

Tanaka exclaimed, sotto voce, “Surely they know that would be a suicide mission – the comet’s lethally radioactive and its local debris field is even more intense as the thing has gotten closer to the sun… they’d be lucky if they make it down to the surface for an hour, before…”

McPherson, still in mid-sentence, explained, “…We are having no problems getting volunteers for the crews that we’ll need, but launch vehicles are going to be a challenge, because right now every last ship we can get our hands on, has been claimed by the Arks initiative. Frankly, in view of the outcome of the first Salvador mission, I’m not happy about pulling resources out of Arks – you have to appreciate that to get so many as one or two ships capable of even theoretically making it up to ‘Lucifer’, even for a one-way mission, we’re sacrificing the ability to lift fifty, possibly a hundred, people off Earth to temporary safety; that’s a big sacrifice to accept, in the current circumstances.”

He paused a second to take a breath, then said, “Also, compared to the first Salvador mission, this one will have to take place under severely constrained circumstances, because we had months in which to prepare for the first mission but only a few weeks, at most, for this one. For example, we will have to do it much closer to Earth, just as it crosses the plane of the Moon’s orbit, in fact – we simply don’t have the specialized ships to get out as far as Salvador I, and on top of that, we can’t manufacture bombs the size of the ones that we used on the first mission, there just isn’t that amount of fissile material available – especially considering that the remaining missiles are to be used for a different mission. We’ll keep you advised of progress on this project, of course, but for now, all we can ask you do is to continue observing the comet and to send us data on any changes you see in it, ASAP.”

The Mars-girl whispered, “What is an ‘asap’?”

‘As Soon As Possible’”, replied Boyd.

Ha, I see,” the Storied Watcher said, smiling sheepishly.

Captain, I have to talk to you,” she requested, but Jacobson gestured her to silence.

McPherson concluded by saying, “Well, that’s it from me, Eagle and Infinity, as I said, keep up the good work, we sure can use the extra pair of eyes that you’ve given us. I’m now going to turn the floor over to General Symington. General?”

Symington’s face appeared, even more ridged with fatigue than had been McPherson’s; however, the General seemed more in control, less willing to show his disposition.

Greetings, crew,” he said, “And let me start by echoing Mr. McPherson’s congratulations to Cosmonaut Chkalov. Sir, I have the honor to inform you that, based on your activities so far in determining the weaknesses in the comet, your Air Force has decided to award you a medal – they haven’t told me exactly which one, but as soon as that information is forthcoming, I’ll send it your way.”

He saluted, while saying this.

Now, as Fred McPherson has explained, team, unfortunately, our main missile attack did not… achieve its full goals,” Symington commented. “But as you know, we have been drafting a series of fail-safe measures to deal with this eventuality.”

Tanaka suppressed an urge to laugh at the man’s pomposity.

Symington continued, “And I won’t bore you with the details, since you can easily access these on NeoNet, but here’s a summary. Assuming that the second Salvador mission – which, as the previous speaker has correctly pointed out, may or may not make it off the ground – is not successful, as the comet enters Earth’s atmosphere, we’re going to hit it with every remaining one of our nuclear weapons, everything down to sub kiloton-range tactical, in a last-ditch, co-ordinated strike. What’s different now is, we’re going to target these so as to exactly hit the pressure points associated with the newly-discovered fissures; we’re hoping that this will induce the object to fracture and then shatter. Inevitably, the remaining chunks of it will strike the Earth, causing catastrophic results, but this outcome can’t, we hope, be worse than if the whole thing impacted. I should tell you that planning this attack has been extremely complicated, not just because of the number of national commands and different types of weapons involved, but also because we now have to do it in such a way that we don’t also destroy too many of the Arks ships that may be in low Earth orbit at the time. It appears that some collateral damage on this front, may be inevitable.”

‘Collateral damage’… where have we heard that before, I wonder?” asked Tanaka, idly.

Other than for that,” Symington concluded, “Our plans, and your orders, remain unchanged; we’re tracking you on course for rendez-vous with ISS2 in its boosted orbit, so that’s good. The only variable that we can see right now is the outcome of the second Salvador mission, but we’re not counting on that, so proceed as you would have. That’s all I have to say… Mr. Ramirez?”

Ramirez took the microphone and said, “Well, that’s the update, Eagle and Infinity. Obviously, we had hoped to have had better news for you, and alternate plans… but life goes on, at least for the time remaining, right?”

He forced a grin and finished off with, “Awaiting your response, if any. Ramirez and Houston, over and out.”

The light and screen both dimmed.

Go ahead, Karéin,” said Jacobson.

Captain,” the Storied Watcher inquired, “I heard that your planet is going to send another space ship up to the comet… is that correct?”

Correct,” Jacobson replied. “As far as we know. The whole project may not, excuse the pun here, ‘get off the ground’, however, due to the issues which Fred McPherson pointed out, when he was speaking.”

Sir,” the alien continued, “This may represent a way out from our current problem, that is, the one involved with keeping you and your crew alive, after we meet the space station.”

Smiling knowingly, Tanaka said, excitement rising in her voice, “Yeah, I get it! Sam – don’t you see? Earth would be sending the ship to ‘Lucifer’ on a one-way trip. But it would have to have a certain amount of air in it, just to make the voyage to the comet. If Karéin could somehow get us there, or get the ship to us – well, Earth can’t miss something that they don’t expect to get back, can they?”

Exactly, Professor,” said the Mars-girl. “If, somehow, I can get the humans on this ship to this second Salvador vessel, it could serve as a kind of oasis in space for you, until I can find you a better home. Perhaps I could save the men and women who flew the new Earth ship to the comet, too. Depending on when and where, we meet it.”

Wait a minute,” objected Jacobson, “Let’s take a step back here, folks. It’s a nice idea, but right off the top, it looks like a non-starter. I can see a number of ‘gotchas’ in it.”

Such as?” asked a crestfallen Boyd.

Such as,” explained the Mars mission commander, “Apart from the fact that doing this would require us to seriously deceive Houston as to our guest’s real capabilities – which they have every right to want to put to better uses – as you, Cherie, yourself pointed out, the entire vicinity of the comet is now intensely radioactive. Given the nature of the mission, Houston is very unlikely to shield the new ship from this, after all, the crew only has to live long enough to place the nuclear charges and set them off. Assuming, of course, that the new ship even makes it anywhere near ‘Lucifer’ – we all know what happened to the previous missions, don’t we? The only way that I know of to stop the debris field, and the radiation, from killing us, air supply or not, is to intercept the second ship and stop it from getting to the comet altogether, if Karéin is even capable of that… and I categorically forbid any talk of something like that. There’s a word for it – treason. The worst kind of treason imaginable, not just against our own nation, but against all of Earth.”

Sir,” the Storied Watcher hastily interjected, “I think I could expand my bubble to protect even a ship of this size, from any amount of radiation, also from impacts with the rocks surrounding the comet. I could probably keep you safe even from the very powerful energy fields of the big planet, you know the one with the red spot on it. The radiation around the comet is no doubt much less strong. So we would not have to stop the new Salvador ship’s crew from reaching ‘Lucifer’. We could just go on board their ship as they approached it. Does knowing this, help?”

Yeah, okay,” Jacobson allowed, grudgingly. “Let’s assume, just for the sake of argument, that you could do that. But we have other issues to consider. To name just one, how do you get us safely from here, or from ISS2, to the new ship, as it approaches ‘Lucifer’? I thought I heard you say a short time ago, that you have trouble finding things that small, in the vastness of space. And, further to the point, you also said that we wouldn’t have enough air to last the trip from here to, well, wherever?”

The Mars-girl looked longingly into Jacobson’s face, searching for the faintest hint of approval.

Finding none, she stated, uncertainly, “I have to admit, Captain Sam Jacobson, that your objections in these respects are possibly valid. About finding the new Salvador ship, unless it were to deliberately transmit a radio homing signal, something that I could detect by concentrating on that wave-feeling, towards me, I would probably have to fly to the vicinity of the comet and then scan the dust in the debris field for signs of disturbance, a process that might take some time… of course, that would be risky, because the space ship might impact with something and thereby be destroyed, before I could get to it and protect it.”

Leaving us… kinda ‘up the creek without a paddle’, wouldn’t you say?” observed White.

If I were to guess at what that expression means, Devon,” the Storied Watcher replied, evenly, “You are right. The only alternative would be to suffuse you all with Amaiish in the slim hope that you would survive the process long enough for me to take you elsewhere. You know the risks associated with doing that. Otherwise… there would not be nearly enough air for you to survive for very long…”

About that, air, that is,” said Jacobson. “That’s the other problem, isn’t it?”

Yes,” noted the alien. “Unless I were to compress as much of the air in this ship as possible, at the highest pressure that you humans can safely tolerate, into my bubble, you would likely run out on the way to the new ship. Especially as your people apparently expect it to get to the comet only as it nears your planet, which implies that it will be that much further away from us, when we either leave this ship or your space station. Sergei, may I ask you a question about this, please?”

Anything, Karéin,” replied Chkalov.

Do you have an exact, or even approximate, understanding of the relative paths that this ship, the space station, and ‘Lucifer’ are on, and the path of the new Earth ship when it is to intersect with the comet?” she asked.

Not an exact one,” the Russian explained, “But I can give you an educated guess, since I have been studying the comet very closely and know its trajectory to Earth almost by heart. Basically, our course is diverging from that of both ‘Lucifer’ and of Earth, not surprising when you consider that the objective of boosting ISS2 is to get it a safe distance away from both those bodies. Our course takes us more rapidly away from the comet than it does from Earth, thus, when we reach the rendez-vous point with the space station, we will be at a substantial distance from Earth… assuming that our home-planet is still there, needless to say. With each passing minute, we are getting further away from ‘Lucifer’ and closer to ISS2. Does that answer your question, Karéin?”

Sufficiently, yes,” affirmed the Storied Watcher, smiling kindly at the cosmonaut. “Captain, in view of what Sergei has just said, I would have to say that doing what I suggested a minute or two ago, that is, compressing the air in here, would probably get all of you to the region of the comet, but not with a lot of margin for error. I would have to check this assumption against the exact figures, of course, because it is not the sort of thing that one can be a little wrong about, in the wrong direction, and not suffer serious consequences. You would all also be subjected to very strong forces of acceleration. I do not know if you have noticed this, but when I travel in space, I do not speed up like your ship does, that is, slowly and steadily. The only way I know how to go involves very rapid acceleration, which I could partly offset, but not completely. I have never tried doing this, with living creatures, other than myself. I think it would be safe, but I could not guarantee it…”

What if we learned how to use that power of yours to let you move us faster… you know what I’m thinking of, Karéin,” said Tanaka.

Not enough time to teach you that,” countered the Mars-girl. “In spite of what you know now. Sorry.”

Boyd and Chkalov both raised their eyebrows.

Yes, ahem,” Jacobson responded, “And the whole line of thought’s invalid, anyway. You all know why Houston wants us to dock with ISS2, that is, to give them access to our supply of air and other vital resources. Sucking it all up into Karéin’s little bubble and waltzing off with it, to parts unknown, well, that doesn’t quite square with our current set of orders, now does it?”

Glumly, the rest of them indicated agreement.

So,” Tanaka mentioned, sarcastically, “You don’t have any problem with her taking us to Salvador Two, as long as we don’t take any air to breathe, along with us, Sam?”

Wearily, Jacobson replied, “If you want to put it that way, yes, Cherie, I suppose that’s one way of looking at it. But there’s really something much more serious to consider here, specifically, a question that we’ve all been avoiding – namely, ‘if our guest can get us to the comet, what might she be able to do to help Earth, without the burden of helping us‘. Any ideas on that front, Karéin?”

He fixed a steady, serious gaze on the alien.

I do not know what you mean, Captain Jacobson, sir,” evaded the Storied Watcher.

Try to free your mind of the need to help us,” Jacobson demanded. “Assume that we’ll be alright, whatever you do or don’t do, for us.”

But that is not true, sir,” she protested. “They mean to take away your air.”

Just humor me,” Jacobson said, stoically. “If you didn’t have to worry about us, what would your suggested course of action be?”

Desperately, the alien looked from person to person, for some indication of objection, of common cause. But they all stared blankly back, caught between the urge for self-preservation and the larger goal of Earth’s survival.

Finally, she offered, unenthusiastically, “I have not given that a lot of thought, sir, because I so much want to help you and your crew – my family, my only family, now. But if you press me, I guess… I suppose… I could fly to the comet and guide the new Earth ship to its goal, protect them from the local radiation and debris field hazards, maybe even help them place their nuclear bombs by blasting some deep holes in the comet’s crust… help them to get away, safely…”

White interrupted, “Man, what I wouldn’t give to see the look on those guys’ faces, when they’re approachin’ that damn thing and they get a knock on the outside door, then they see her floatin’ around without a space suit, with a big ‘let me in’ sign on her.”

Chuckling, Boyd added, “Yeah, now that would be a regular Kodak moment, wouldn’t it?”

Seeing the girl’s confused look, he explained, “That’s an expression that means, ‘a scene worth capturing with a photograph’, Karéin.”

It would not be,” complained the Storied Watcher, “Because I would only be thinking of all of you.”

But,” said Tanaka, “In so doing, you might be saving all of Earth. Are the needs of a few like us, more important than those of an entire planet, an entire species?”

The Mars-girl now looked like a trapped animal.

Jacobson said, “I seem to remember you telling us of another time when you had a choice like this to make, Karéin. The last blue planet, wasn’t it?”

Glowering, the girl retorted, “I hope that you do not take offense, that you understand that I speak these words with respect – but you speak falsely, Captain Sam Jacobson! You do not know what transpired there; to the extent that I remember it, that situation was… hopeless. This one, is not. There must be a way both to save Earth, and to save you. It is my task to find that way. If, my poor powers can help your planet, at all. That is a very big assumption, not one that I am willing to make.”

Hey, I got an idea,” voiced White. “Y’all say it’s, like, shootin’ the moon – excuse the joke, please – for Karéin here to drag us over to the comet, because this here crate’s ‘spoken for’. Why doesn’t she just drag the new ship over to us, load us all on it, then get us back there to blow the comet up? We’d have more people to do the Salvador Two mission, all the air we’re ever gonna get and it’d be easier coping with the speedup factor, if we were strapped into those nice comfy seats that NASA sets everybody up with. We could get a commlink fix on them from here, two-way, then when she gets there, they could just tell her to ride the beam back to us. Piece of cake for me to rig up. Whaddya say, Captain?”

He heard a little, soundless voice in the back of his head say, Thank you, Devon, from the bottom of my heart, I owe you much for saying that.

Brilliant,” chimed Tanaka. “Two birds and one comet, with one stone.”

Thanks, Professor,” said White. “Y’all think I deserve a raise?”

Three no trump,” joked Boyd. “There’s a raise for you.”

That is the ‘bridge’ game, played with cards, is it not?” asked the Storied Watcher. “I started studying it on the network because it seems very popular, second only to chess, which the Captain said I could not play because…”

While the banter went on, Jacobson looked as if he was torn between two masters. At length, he said, jumping in to the conversation, “Moving right along, team, I hate to be the one to kill a beautiful theory with an ugly set of facts, but there are two issues with this plan that you haven’t pointed out.”

Such as?” asked an again-disappointed Boyd.

First of all,” explained the ship commander, “We’d be interfering with a critical NASA and Earth mission, potentially the most important space expedition in human history – considering the consequences of success or failure – completely without permission. Needless to say, doing so would be the most serious type of insubordination imaginable.”

Why don’t we just ask them for permission?” inquired Tanaka.

That’s certainly possible,” answered Jacobson, “But think of what we’d be proposing – here, I’ll try to enunciate it: ‘Hello, Houston, we’d like to propose that we have an alien from Mars fly over to the comet, completely without a ship or even a space suit and then drag – God knows how, that is, by what principle of physics – the Salvador Two ship over to the Eagle and Infinity, then have her drag Salvador Two, plus us, back to ‘Lucifer’, then have her protect us from the dangers that have destroyed three Earth ships, so we can blow up the comet. This must come as a surprise to you, Houston, considering that as far as you know, she’s just a kind of very old, somewhat naïve human girl. But trust us on this one, after all, it’s only the survival of our entire planet that would be jeopardized if she or we can’t deliver on any aspect of this plan, for example, she runs out of that Amai-whatever energy, halfway back to the comet.’ Sound good to you, Professor?”

Tanaka sulked while Boyd hung his head and muttered, “Does sound like a bit of a stretch, to me, Captain. But look on the bright side of it. There isn’t a snowball’s chance in hell that they’ll believe that she’s even capable of flying around out there, by herself, so how can they say ‘no’ to a plan that has no chance of even being started?”

By the same logic, Major Boyd,” said Chkalov, “How could they say ‘yes’?”

I recorded quite a bit of her first trip outside the ship,” commented White. “How are they gonna ignore hard evidence like that?”

Easy,” replied Tanaka, sourly. “They’ll just conclude that we’re all suffering from collective psychosis, caused by the stress of the ‘Lucifer’ situation and by long-term confinement in here, with each other. But, okay, let’s suppose that somehow we can convince them that we’re not kidding when we say we have a semi-godly alien on board with us. Sam, you had another problem with Devon’s idea? Do tell us…?”

Very much so,” Jacobson said. “Devon, no slight here, but you also made another big assumption – namely, that Karéin can even do this.”

Looking at the girl, he added, in a friendly, paternal voice, “Well? How godly are we feeling today, Karéin?”

The Storied Watcher rose to her feet, paced around a bit and stood, facing away from all of them.

Not very, Captain, sir,” she said, meekly. “Oh, I wish I could explain to you, in terms you would understand, how my powers work, what their limitations are, how it feels to use them – then you would not be guessing, when we have discussions like this.”

The alien woman turned to face them. “It is like this,” she said.

Her eyes flashed for a second and focused on Jacobson. “I am doing this only because you are the heaviest of the crew, sir, do not be mad at me, oh-kay?”

Jacobson began to float upwards from his seat, involuntarily, despite the pseudo-gravity of the Infinity’s center core drum.

As you can see,” she explained, “I can use my control over the forces of gravity – actually, magnetism and the third, fourth and fifth forces as well, when necessary – to move objects around. When my powers are at full strength, I can do this to very large and heavy things, up to the size of a large boat or a mountain, perhaps – I do not remember exactly how large, but certainly the size of this space ship, or bigger…”

Jacobson gave her the ‘thumbs down’ signal and she obliged, returning him to his seat.

How about objects the size of a comet? How about pushing something like that, off its current course?” he asked, as he landed.

I considered that, sir,” explained the Storied Watcher. “As Professor Cherie Tanaka asked me the same question, some time ago. But it is huge. If I was fully recovered, if I had all my Amaiish-forces, I could try, but even then, I fear that I could at best nudge it. This is the thing that I said is hard to explain, a minute ago. When I am near to, or on, a heavenly body that has a lot of gravity of its own, I can use that power to affect other, smaller, objects in the vicinity – including myself, of course; that is how I ‘fly’, in space.

But in the case of the ‘Lucifer’ thing,” she elaborated, “I would be trying to use the object’s own gravity, to move itself. I have never tried to do this, nor have I ever tried to move something so big as the comet. Here is one way to describe it… it would be like one of you humans, swimming alongside a big ship in one of your oceans, trying to change its course by kicking your legs against the water. If you had enough time, I mean, weeks or months, you might indeed be able to send it a few hand-spreads in direction from the path that it had previously been on. But I fear that we do not have that kind of time, and we need more than a few hands-worth.”

Yeah, I see,” acknowledged Jacobson. “I know you well enough to know that you’d already have suggested doing something like that, if it was possible. But okay, if the comet itself is out of the question, we still have the issue of you physically getting to the Salvador Two ship, somehow finding it, somehow,” – he could not suppress a cynical laugh, while saying this – “Convincing them to let you grab hold of them, then dragging that ship here to the Eagle and Infinity, then going all the way back to the comet… and all of this in enough time for the Salvador Two‘s crew to have enough time to carry out their own mission, to completion. Feel up to that job, Karéin?”

The alien looked down, and the others noticed that she had picked up the Earth habit of kicking her feet at an imaginary target, while thinking.

I honestly do not know, sir,” she quietly offered. “I am reasonably sure that I could, as you say, ‘drag’ that space ship – or this one, for that matter – around in space, almost anywhere in this solar system; that part is easy, more or less. But what I cannot be sure of is, how fast I could go, therefore how much time it would take to get to the comet, back to here and then back to the comet, once again.”

Explain, please,” said Tanaka.

Cherie, more than most, you will appreciate what I am about to say,” elaborated the Mars-girl. “I can move very quickly when I am only bending gravity so as to move myself, or perhaps a small additional amount of mass, but a whole space ship… there would be no way to know, without just trying it. And the other problem is, slowing down and stopping. Again, this is not difficult if I am doing so near a planetary body, but we would be ‘dragging’ this Salvador Two ship as fast as possible to get it promptly here, but the Eagle and Infinity only have about the same amount of mass as is the thing that I would be transporting. So I would have to start applying, how you say, ‘braking forces’, much earlier in the trip, to avoid overshooting the rendez-vous point, altogether. Of course, it would not be so hard going back to the comet. I could anchor myself against it and stop almost whenever I wanted.”

Tanaka nodded, knowingly. “Yeah,” she said, “It’s not easy, that’s for sure. I could barely…” She stopped herself in mid-sentence.

Boyd and White shot suspicious glances to each other. Chkalov, meanwhile, seemed preoccupied with something showing up on a computer screen.

So,” offered Jacobson, philosophically, as he addressed the rest of them, “Let me amend my previous explanation of our plan, to Houston: ‘Oh, and by the way, NASA, we have no idea if, once Karéin here drags the Salvador Two away from this incredibly important mission, she’ll be able to get it back in time to complete the task. But, hey, we’re willing to risk the survival of everyone on Earth, just for the theoretical chance of saving our own skins…”

He shot them an acid look.

Sounds good to me,” muttered White, unconvincingly.

Captain,” interrupted Chkalov, “If this of any interest, I have been running some simulations on the computer, comparing Karéin’s last observed flight speed, when outside the Eagle and Infinity, to likely trajectories she could take to the comet and thence back to us.”

And?” asked Jacobson.

Of course, I did not incorporate the factor of the mass or weight of the Salvador Two ship, since I have no hard data on that… although I suppose, if I had to redo the simulation, I could assume that its configuration would be broadly comparable to that of the first set of Salvador spacecraft,” Chkalov explained. “In any event, what my calculations show is that Karéin could, indeed, make it to and from ‘Lucifer’, back to here, prior to us arriving at the ISS2 rendez-vous point, but not with much of margin for error. I suspect that this allowance would drop substantially, if she had to also move the Salvador Two ship, but by how much, I am not sure.”

Meaning, Sam,” interjected Tanaka, “That unless Karéin has learned to do the hundred million kilometer outer space dash in much less time than we have so far observed, knowing the speed at which Houston makes decisions, we’d have to make our proposal to them tout de suite, if we’re to have any chance of pulling this off.”

The Storied Watcher just smiled evasively, at this.

If we’re going to do that, anyway,” retorted Jacobson. “My point of view on the subject hasn’t changed.”

And if the Salvador Two is going to take off from Earth, on a schedule that suits Devon’s involved little scheme, here,” added Boyd. “What if they’re just not going to take off on time? You heard McPherson – they’re going to have to intercept the comet much closer to Earth than the first mission did. That implies that they won’t be taking off until later, at least, that’s how it looks to me. And he said that it might take weeks. That would certainly put it out of the question.”

Point very well taken,” agreed Jacobson. “As matters stand now, I won’t veto this plan, but only because I’ll leave that honor to Houston. For the record, though, I don’t support it – the risks are just too high… ladies and gentlemen, oh, and, aliens, too, we have a higher duty here, one that transcends our own understandable instinct for self-preservation.”

But can’t we at least ask Houston?” pleaded Tanaka. “The worst they can say is, ‘no’.”

Certainly,” replied Jacobson. “Although they could say, ‘no, and make that alien fly right over to us, now‘, too, Professor. One way or the other, we have a valid interest in knowing the exact lift-off time of the Salvador Two and its ETA to the comet. If it appears that the timing of this doesn’t completely rule out Devon’s plan, then, although, as I said, I’m not in favor of this idea, I will present it to Houston for their consideration. I should point out that my main reason for doing this is, the conversation that we just had, has convinced me of one thing: it would be very irresponsible, not to say treacherous, of us not to let Houston know what our guest is really capable of. With that knowledge, maybe they won’t approve of Devon’s plan, but perhaps they’ll think of something else. Perhaps.”

I don’t like where the idea is leading,” complained Tanaka, “But your logic is kind of inescapable, I guess, Sam.”

She looked at the Mars-girl. “Nobody wants to keep you here, more than I do, Karéin,” Tanaka said. “But the facts have changed, since the failure of the Earth missile attack. Sam is absolutely right. We should tell Earth what you’re capable of, then let the chips fall where they may.”

The alien just hung her head, avoiding their glance. Then she said, slowly, “First, I wanted to fly away from here, from shame; you ordered me back, and I obeyed. Now, someone may order me away from here, from you, and I must again obey, though I desperately do not want to. My wants and the needs of the people of Earth, are not very well co-ordinated, do you not think so, Captain, sir?”

Jacobson looked as if he appreciated her mood, and said, “I understand, Karéin, but let’s not pre-judge them; they’re good people, at heart, just a little pre-occupied and subject to factors that we can’t appreciate up here, that’s all. To make it easier, I’ll let you decide how to explain this to them. It’s up to you, yourself, to set expectations; and as a bit of friendly advice, I’d suggest that you tell them only what you think you can definitely commit to. I say that not just because I don’t want to put you at risk, Karéin, but also because, as we just discussed, if you can’t deliver on something that we try to have you do, you could end up making the situation worse, not better. Devon, can you get us ready to record a message to them? Let us know when Karéin can start speaking.”

Way to put her on the spot, there Cap’n,” interjected White. “But Karéin, just for the record, we all believe in you. Speak from the heart and y’all be fine.”

Thanks, Devon,” was all she said.

Lost Chapter #2 : Angel of Mailànkh – Challenge For A Goddess

Here is the second chapter that was excised from Angel of Mailànkh, largely for reasons of brevity. It had been located immediately after the part in which Jacobson explains to the crew that the Earth missile barrage has, in fact, damaged the comet. :

Angel of Mailànkh – Challenge For A Goddess

Again motioning for patience, Jacobson said, “That was the first thing I asked Sylvia, myself, Brent. But apart from the fact that some of these missiles are now sequestered for the Arks project, apparently, even were all of them – plus nukes fired from aircraft, keeping in mind that any pilot undertaking that kind of a mission would be on a suicide run – to hit ‘Lucifer’s secondary fragments, the consensus of opinion is that it might at best reduce the amount of time that Earth would be rendered uninhabitable. What Sylvia said to me was that there was a large margin of error in their calculations, so large, in fact, that they felt it would be too risky to assume that the last-ditch defenses could come through. Which is why most of the missiles are going to the Arks project, to lift people off of Earth. They’re still going to fire some of them at the comet, of course, that is, the missiles that are physically too small to accommodate a human passenger, but it probably won’t be a big enough bang, I’m afraid.”

Damn, Captain… for a minute there, y’all had us going,” commented White.

Yeah,” Jacobson replied, “But frankly, as a military man, I’m just glad that we did hurt it, even if not fatally, Devon. Proves that Earth isn’t completely helpless – we’re still fighting. It’s fourth and 20 to goal with five seconds on the clock, but the game isn’t over, not yet.”

They noticed that the Storied Watcher had got up. She was pacing around the table, nervously, mumbling something to herself.

Karéin,” said Tanaka, “What’s on your mind? You look a little… concerned. What’s the matter? This is the best news that we’ve had in quite a while.”

The Mars-girl looked up at Jacobson. She complained, “If I had gone there – if I had attacked, when your weapons did – maybe that would have been the extra power needed to shatter it…”

We’ve already been over that,” Jacobson calmly countered. “The facts haven’t changed from what they were. With the same set of facts, I’d still make the same decision that I made a short while ago. And besides, Karéin, maybe you did contribute to our attack, more than you think. We might not have damaged it at all, without you having ‘sent your power’ to the missiles – whatever that means…”

I tried to boost the potency of the explosions, by sending the Fire to accompany them,” explained the Storied Watcher. “I pictured in my mind, a force-barrier around the comet, to reflect the shock waves back upon it. But at that range… it probably would have had no effect at all, like, you trying to throw a stone at something half of one of your ‘kilometers’ away. And just as I was trying to… to… ‘project’, to firm my grasp – your language does not have a good word for this action – something threw off my ability to visualize where the comet was, my concentration slipped and I could do no more. Maybe it was the explosions that did that. I had to try something, I could not just sit idly there, sir, and watch my human brothers and sisters use their last strike. I only wish I had more of a chance to influence the outcome.”

She sounded resentful, if only slightly.

Jacobson nodded. “Point taken, gratefully,” he acknowledged. “And, given Sergei’s description of ‘Lucifer’s current state, I think it’s well within the realm of possibility that your intervention did help. We’ll probably never know for sure, but the point is that you did try, so… thanks.”

Wow,” interjected Tanaka. “Sam, assuming that what you’re saying is correct, do you know what you’re implying? It’s an awesome display of power. Godly, in fact.”

You’re speculating, of course, Professor,” Jacobson replied, “But what, exactly, are you getting at?”

I may be the only career scientist here,” Tanaka said, “But I’m surprised that none of the rest of you have caught on to this. If Karéin’s intervention really was what caused the fissures we now see within the comet, we’re talking about her projecting energy across millions of kilometers of space, using enough energy, in fact, to influence the fluid dynamics of hundreds of thermonuclear explosions, even if only for a split-second. There’s no power on Earth even remotely comparable to that!”

Staring at the floor, the Storied Watcher interrupted. “You are assuming that I had any effect at all, Professor,” she complained. “I have never tried anything like this before. Did you hear me praying? The whole thing was a wish – a hope – that I could so divert the force of your missiles. It was vain of me to try, but what else could I do, when sitting impotently here in your space ship?”

Grasping at straws ain’t so bad, Karéin,” sympathetically offered White.

Jacobson continued, “All the above having been said, unfortunately we’re still faced with two things that haven’t changed : one, the comet’s still on course to Earth and two, we still have orders to stay on course to ISS2. I’ve been racking my brains to try to see if there’s anything more that any of us – and that includes you, Karéin – can do to influence events; but so far, I draw a blank. I’m open to ideas… any of you have any?”

The all thought for a few seconds. Finally, Boyd spoke up.

Since our guest is so enthusiastic about seeing the comet up close,” he suggested, “Why not just let her go there?”

They all did a double-take.

Say whaat?” exclaimed White.

Well,” said the other astronaut, “We already know that Karéin can fly around in interplanetary space, with about as much trouble as I have in splashing from one end of my swimming-pool, to the other… right? Sergei said that our long-range observations of the comet, and those of Earth, have detected these fissures, as well as evidence of other damage… but there’s nothing definite, nothing that would let us plan or perfect our next attacks on it. Maybe if the ‘Storied Watcher’ here got nice and close to it, she’d be able to find a weak spot, something like that. Even if she didn’t… what have we got to lose? She could just fly back here and we’d be no worse off than we were, before.”

A very interesting idea, Captain,” added Chkalov. “Karéin could take some of our recording-equipment along with her. We would get much more detailed information about the comet’s structure, its weaknesses, and so on, than we could ever get from the remote sensing abilities that we have now. It is too bad that we do not have a few thermonuclear explosives here on the Infinity and Eagle, so she could see how they would work if detonated from within the comet’s interior – that is, from inside one of the fissures.”

All eyes turned on the alien-girl.

I suppose,” she said, uncertainly, “That I am in a poor position to object to this plan, since I have lately volunteered to do the same thing, except in the midst of your ‘H-Bombs’, as you call them.”

Should we take that as a ‘yes’?” asked Jacobson.

Sam,” interjected Tanaka, “Let’s take a careful look at the risks here. Even without the bombs going off, this is likely to be a dangerous trip for Karéin. The comet’s surrounding debris-field destroyed or crippled three Earth ships, first of all – what if she ran into a large piece of this stuff, as she was approaching ‘Lucifer’? How would she even be able to navigate, inside the comet’s gas-cloud? And remember, much of it is now intensely radioactive – it has been hit by the most powerful nukes we had on Earth… hundreds of them. We’d never seriously consider sending a manned Earth ship in there. Is it reasonable, therefore, to ask her to go, by herself? For what? A sight-seeing tour? I’d like to get all the scientific information I can get on ‘Lucifer’, too, but it’s awfully risky. Again, we have to consider what we’d be losing, if we were to lose her.”

Well, Karéin?” asked Jacobson.

I can answer some of Cherie’s questions,” the replied the Storied Watcher, “But not all of them. I will admit that there would be an element of risk to such a trip. The comet is quite far away – if I have been reading your instruments correctly, it is halfway between us and Earth, allowing for some angular-displacement – which means that I would have to fly very fast to reach it, to have a few hours to explore it and then get back to this ship in time to meet your space-station. As I have explained to the Professor and others before, my little ‘bubble’ can easily protect me against high-speed impact with small objects in space; I am fairly confident about larger ones, too, but it has been thousands of years since I would have tested that belief… so I am not eager to find out by accident, now. As for the radiation, do not worry about that – I will absorb it, just more Amaiish for me… it feels wonderful, like the warm rays of the sun. I wish you could experience that, somehow.”

She gave a wan grin.

The Mars-girl continued, “The problem of finding my way does worry me, however, but not in the manner in which the Professor indicated. It should not be too difficult navigating to the comet, and when I get close to it, I think I will be oh-kay… I have never had trouble with such things, before. I have many means of perception that would not be familiar to humans – for example, if I close my eyes, I can perceive waves of energy, magnetism, and so on; it is not as easy to use these to visualize a scene, as is the visible-light-spectrum that you and I are used to, but it is none the less possible. In a way I would welcome the opportunity to exercise this ability, again.”

Why are you worried about it, then?” asked Tanaka.

Because, Cherie,” the Storied Watcher said, “I might not be able to find my way back here, to be with you.”

Huh?” asked White. “You were able to get back from your last little saunter outside, easily enough.”

Yes, but, Devon,” the alien answered, “I did not go very far from the Eagle and Infinity, when I first tested my space-flying powers, I think I only went a few thousand kilometers from the ship. It is not easy to tell, precisely. The ‘Lucifer’ thing is millions of kilometers from here, and I cannot easily track an object as relatively small as this spaceship from that distance – against the background-music of the universe, your signal is just too small. I could try to estimate your relative motion so that I could fly to where I think you would be, when I returned; but the chance of error in such an exercise, is quite high. It might require weeks or months of searching on my part, to re-locate the Eagle and Infinity, if for some reason my calculations about your expected position were incorrect. On top of that, I would be flying all over the comet, changing my orientation, my direction, constantly, that is the point of the trip, after all. In such circumstances, it is very easy to lose track of things, in space. This is not a problem when one is trying to find and return to a large planetary body – your Earth, for example – but a tiny spaceship… another thing entirely.”

But you volunteered to fly to the comet, to be there for the barrage,” Boyd opined, half-maliciously. “It would have been even harder to have found us, afterwards.”

Not if she wasn’t planning to come back,” observed White.

Good thing you didn’t let her, then,” commented Tanaka, towards Jacobson.

Maybe, I… I… would just have gone onwards to Earth, or somewhere like that, afterwards,” Karéin replied, evasively. “I was thinking of larger issues, than returning here.”

Tanaka said, “Couldn’t we just give her one of our tracking-devices? She could use it to home on us, if we reversed the signal.”

Sure,” retorted White, “But Professor, those things were meant to work over a few hundred kilometers, at most, for local tracking down on Mars. Last one we put on her fizzled out at a short distance, which I thought was pretty good, considerin’. But over millions of clicks? Forget it. Ain’t gonna happen!

The Mars-girl added, “And I had trouble protecting the one you gave me, last time, from the crushing-forces as I sped up. I would be accelerating at a much greater pace, this time. I think that your device would last a few seconds. That applies equally to your recording-devices, your ‘tee-vee’ cameras and so on. You would have to rely on my visual observations, although I could take along some metal plates and burn my notes into them, so I do not forget anything.”

There’s another issue that we haven’t really addressed,” said Tanaka. “Karéin, do you want to do this? I’d assume that you’d have some small say in the matter.”

That is, how you say, ‘a good question’, Cherie,” the Storied Watcher replied.

Pensively, she added, “You know me as well as any… so you know that the risks worry me, I will admit to that. But despite this, I think that I would go, especially if Captain Jacobson orders me to. And I might be able to do more than observe. I very much doubt that I could destroy the comet – as I explained before, I would need a huge source of conventional energy as an ‘opener’ for my Amaiish, to do that – but there would be much radiation, the aftereffects of your nuclear explosions, that I could use to tap into my powers and thus damage it. How extensively, I cannot say; but as a great canyon can be made by a little trickle of water, over many years, maybe a great comet can be hurt by a few little rays of Amaiish-energy, of my Holy Fire, over a few hours or days.”

The girl’s eyes glowed brilliant yellow and the sizzling energy-rays that they had seen earlier, issued forth from them, illuminating various objects on the table as the rays played back and forth, harmlessly, but foreboding latent lethality.

The point having been made, the shining stopped, along with the light-beams.

I forgot to mention,” the alien-girl elaborated, “My eye-weapon is called, ‘The Gaze of the Watchers’, in my language. If it is of any interest – please do not be frightened when you hear this, I do not mean it to scare you, but just so you have something to measure this power by – I am sure that it is now powerful enough to vaporize something the size of this ship, possibly something larger still, in one or two shots. I can fire this weapon at full power only a few times each hour, though; then I become fatigued, and it takes a while for my mind to recharge enough to fire again. So it would scarcely make a dent in a huge planetary body like ‘Lucifer’; but maybe a few dents are all we need.”

With a nervous grin, White replied, “I think we’re all cool with that, Karéin. I mean, y’all wouldn’t have to blast the whole ship to get us, anyway… just a few well-placed holes in the hull would do the trick… right?”

She stretched out her hand, clasping his in hers, saying, “’Measure not power by what you can destroy, but by what you can build.’ It is an old saying of the Makailkh, Devon.”

Point taken,” interjected Boyd, “But it may not be quite so appropriate in the case of ‘Lucifer’.”

Jacobson seemed immersed in thought, for a moment, then he said, “It’s an interesting idea, that’s for sure. But I’m going to have to think about it. There are some other implications that we have to consider, as well. For example, Karéin’s prolonged absence from this ship is bound to raise a few eyebrows at Houston, if only because they expect her to take a jump to ISS2 when we get there – if she can’t even find her way back to us, well, then, that’s a problem, wouldn’t you say? And consider what’s going to happen when and if we get any meaningful data back from this little trip; the first thing that I’d ask, if I were anyone on Earth, is ‘how did you get those close-up shots’. At that point, we would have to explain how we – or rather, she – did it, and if Earth does find out about her ability to travel as effortlessly in space as she obviously can, I have little doubt that they’ll take complete control over her. Which would be the last we see of our guest… maybe it would be for the best… maybe Karéin could shuttle a few more bombs up to ‘Lucifer’… I’m not sure. Do you all see how this could get complicated?”

As the rest nodded, the Storied Watcher spoke up. “But Captain Sam Jacobson, sir,” she said, “I do not want to leave all of you, especially when your lives might again be in danger when we reach the space station. It was you who awoke me and gave me life… you are my new family. I know that I have a duty to your people down on Earth, and while I will fulfill that, neither will I abandon you. There must be another way – a safe way.”

Heh,” joked White, “I’d suggest that she just take the rest of us with her… but who’d run the ship?”

At this, he noticed Chkalov giving him the ‘thumbs up’ sign.

I would love to, Devon,” the Mars-girl replied, amicably, “But there is still that little ‘air’ problem. And the ‘you get crushed to death’ one. So…”

On second thought…” White shot back, rolling his eyes.

Lost Chapter #1 : Angel of Mailànkh – What Mr. Boyd Saw

This chapter was originally in Book 1 (Angel of Mailànkh), just after the point at which Karéin expresses an interest in helping Earth’s nuclear missile-barrage, to destroy the “Lucifer” comet.

Angel of Mailànkh – What Mr. Boyd Saw

A few minutes after the meeting in the mess-hall, Tanaka took Boyd aside, as he was heading towards the Infinity’s central core.

The alien-girl was nowhere in sight.

Brent,” requested the scientist, “You got a minute or two? There’s something I’d like to ask you.”

Sure,” Boyd replied, “I’m off to see if I can get a good fix on the comet from Eagle‘s high-res cameras… Sergei’s planning to record the ‘Big Bang’, as the Captain calls it, from Infinity, but I’m going to set up a backup recording from the other ship, just in case. What’s up?”

First of all, I’d like this to be off the record, if you don’t mind,” Tanaka said. “It’s about Karéin.”

Okay… I guess,” Boyd answered. “Something worrying you about her?”

No,” Tanaka responded, “The reason that I’m asking you to keep this confidential is, well, because it relates to things that only you and she would know, things that the two of you have shared, uniquely.”

Ah,” Boyd said, knowingly, “You mean, that time when we were kind of… joined, mentally. When she learned to speak English.”

Yes,” confirmed the scientist. “I don’t believe that I’d appreciate someone else revealing my thoughts to a third party, which is why I’d like to keep this just between the two of us.”

Go ahead,” Boyd answered. “I didn’t promise her that I would never do that, but all the same, I’ll have to exercise some discretion here, I guess.”

Alright,” said Tanaka. “What I’d like to know, Brent, is… you know when she said she wanted to go after ‘Lucifer’, along with the Earth missile-barrage? That kind of got me to thinking, especially after her little side-trip outside the ship, a few days ago; the point is, except for – possibly – yourself, none of us really have any idea of what she can, and cannot, do, how strong she is, how strong she might become. We have all seen how she uses this Amaiish-stuff…”

Tanaka’s voice trailed off momentarily, as she thought, And I know of that, better than any of you, but quickly, she continued, “…On a small scale, but when she makes a proposal like she just did, we don’t have any objective way to tell if she’s serious, or if she’s bluffing for some reason that we can’t fathom. It puts Sam in a very difficult position, because I know he’d like to let her help us – how’s he to know whether a plan like the one she just came up with, is possible for her? But you – you looked into her mind, you experienced her memories… right? If anyone knows her, it’d have to be you. Anything you can say, about this?”

Boyd glanced down at his feet, then shot a quick glance at Tanaka, before looking away. Then he offered, “Whew – that’s a hard one, Professor. Not only because I’m not sure what, exactly, you’re asking me to report about, but because… well, it’s kind of hard to explain, I guess the way that I’d describe it, to the extent that anyone could, is that I did see some of her memories, yes, that’s true… but – and I don’t really know how I know this – there was a lot more that she was holding back from me, deliberately, I think. So I only got a partial picture, basically.”

He thought a bit more, then remarked, “And it was very confusing, Professor, in a way which I can’t adequately explain… here’s my best try, though. Think of your own memories, something that happened when you were a little girl. Try to remember exactly how it felt, how strong you were, how fast you could run at the track and field meet, or whatever. If you even can think back that far, that is.”

Now try to imagine a memory that might have been from thousands of years ago, when Karéin was – in all likelihood – a physically, mentally and emotionally different being from what she is today, on a different planet, with different powers, probably with a different psyche compared to what we have on the ship now,” he elaborated. “I just experienced a jumble of images, sounds, feelings, like this… I couldn’t tell what order they were in, either – like, we’re assuming that just as a human grows from weaker as a child to stronger as an adult, Karéin has progressed in the same way, but I’m not sure that’s a completely safe assumption. Maybe she doesn’t always get stronger; maybe she sometimes just stays relatively weak. Some of her memories were full of fear, of inadequacy, or, at least, that’s how I interpreted them. None of this is for sure. As the saying goes, ‘maybe it was only a dream’”.

Yeah, I suppose you have a point there,” Tanaka acknowledged. “But let’s take one memory, as a concrete example, because it’s relevant to what we were discussing a few minutes ago. Am I correct in assuming that you experienced one of her memories, one in which she somehow survived a nuclear explosion? Can you tell me anything about that?”

There’s not much to tell,” Boyd replied. “As I saw it – through her eyes, or, at least, the eyes of the being that she was, at the time – she was wandering through the outskirts of some city; it wasn’t on Earth, that’s for sure, the buildings were weird-looking, no sharp edges to them at all, and the colors of the vegetation were all wrong – a lot of yellows and reds – not a lot of green. All of a sudden, there was this fantastically bright light, high in the sky ahead of her, and she fell to the ground, flat on her face. Of course, that’s the sensible thing to do, here, too, if somebody sets off a bomb anywhere near you. But now, here’s the weird part… it’s very hard to describe, because I was experiencing, remembering, something that people like us could never do, and live to tell about it… think of how she uses her words for ultraviolet and infrared, ‘color to a blind man’ that kind of thing, that’s the idea.”

Go on,” Tanaka asked. “If nothing else, you’ve sure got me interested.”

Boyd chuckled a bit, then continued, “Like I said, it’s something that English doesn’t have words for, but, basically, for a split second, she hurt, ‘agony’ wouldn’t be too strong a word for it – man, I tell you, I felt that, myself… not something that I like remembering, believe me. But then the same heat that was burning her alive, not a second before, started to feel good, the nearest I could come to describing it is like how you feel warming yourself in front of a nice fireplace in the winter, or maybe how it feels after you have a good-sized shot of brandy or cognac, minus the hangover, of course. What’s totally strange, is that even though this felt great, I – she – was still very definitely aware of how much energy was coming at her, how hot it was… like holding on to a red-hot poker and feeling the warmth from it, but not the pain. Or maybe, grounding yourself to house-current and just getting a pleasant buzz, while the light bulb in your hand glows brightly. I won’t pretend to be able to describe it, to someone who hasn’t felt it. But that’s her, that’s what she’s all about, Professor.”

Fascinating,” agreed Tanaka. “But all it really proves, is that she has – at least once, however far in the past – endured what we’d have to assume, is a single nuclear explosion, at some distance. How she gets from that, to proposing flying right into the middle of hundreds of such bombs, I don’t understand. This was what I was getting at, when first I asked you to speak with me, Brent. Did she have any other memories that might help us gage, even roughly, the true, eventual extent of her powers? Anything at all?”

Before Boyd could reply, Tanaka hastily added, “I don’t suppose it needs to be said, because I consider Karéin my friend and I don’t like talking behind her back – but I wouldn’t be pressing you like this, except that the fate of all of Earth might rest on knowing what she can, and can’t, accomplish.”

Boyd now answered, “I hate to disappoint you, Professor, but the short answer is, ‘no’, unfortunately. I recall a couple of images of battles that she participated in – I don’t know how I know this, but I think they refer to really ancient times, far before now – where she acted like a superhero, you know, stuff like laser-beams fired from her eyes, force-fields… the usual. There were also a few of these memories that were so… ‘dark’, that’s the only way I can describe it, that either her mind, or mine, or both of them, just shut them down, I couldn’t feel anything except this unbelievable pall of fear, like the worst nightmare you’ve ever had, only worse… the upshot of all of it is, I doubt that any of the things she was able to do there, would influence events on a planetary scale. Which is not to say that she can’t – just to say, if she can, I can’t swear to it. Sorry, but that’s about it… after all, we were only ‘together’ for a very short time. It was a lot to learn and retain, in a little while.”

I see,” offered Tanaka. “Disappointing… wouldn’t you say?”

I don’t know how to take that, Cherie,” Boyd responded, evenly. “She is what she is, no more, no less. Just like us.”

No, not like us, Tanaka thought.

We can be more. Like I am, now.

If we get through this, I’ll show you.

But the Storied Watcher’s admonitions of modesty suddenly came back to the Professor, so she said, “Yeah – you’re probably right, Brent. Thanks for the information. That’s all I needed to know. But if anything comes back to you, can I ask for you to tell me? I promise I won’t inform anyone else… especially, her.”

I don’t think that will be a problem,” Boyd said. “But now that we’re here, Professor – mind if I ask you something? Also off the record.”

He suspects, worried the scientist.

But she said, “Sure, Brent. No secrets here.”

Tanaka hoped he wasn’t good at detecting lies.

Well,” he mentioned, “I was thinking about something Symington said, in his last little speech. About her not being able to help us, that is. It might just be the stupidity of the brass – I don’t think I have to elaborate on that – but struck me as odd, that he’d write her contributions off, in the way he did. That is, if he knew what she was really capable of.”

I don’t follow you,” answered the scientist. “The General said that they’re completely tied up with the grubby business of trying to save the human race, that they don’t have a lot of time to chat with an alien about life, the universe and everything. I might or might not agree with them… but I can certainly understand why they’re doing things that way.”

The bottom line, Cherie,” countered Boyd, “Is, just how completely have you and the Captain informed Houston of her characteristics and abilities? Like, the laser-beam eyes, the flying in outer space stuff, that kind of thing. I mean – just to take the Arks project as one example – even if she couldn’t stop the comet, from my point of view, it seems well within the realm of possibility that she might be able to save some of the less capable Earth ships, just by pulling them away from Earth when ‘Lucifer’ gets near. I find it hard to believe that they’d have told her ‘just change ships when we tell you and have a nice day’, if they were fully aware of the real extent of her powers. Tell me, Professor… does that sound plausible to you?”

Avoiding his stare, Tanaka said, “I can only speak for myself, Brent, but… well, I’ll be honest with you, as long as we both understand that this really is off the record.”

Understood,” the astronaut replied.

The truth is, while I have told Houston all I know about her background, her history, et cetera – after all, it would be a crime against science not to do that, in case something happens to us or to her – I have been… how would I say this… conservative in giving them these other details,” said the scientist. “Yes – I’ll admit to not telling the full story. I think that’s true of Sam, too, but I’m not completely sure. You’d have to ask him yourself.”

Smiling knowingly, Boyd commented, “We both know I’m not going to do that, Professor – none of my business. But mind if I ask… why?”

You mean why I’ve held back telling them about her powers?” she asked, disingenuously.

Yeah,” he pressed.

It’s like this, Brent,” Tanaka explained. “It’s not one reason, it’s a lot of them. First, you and I both know that her powers have been evolving in ways that we can’t comprehend; we have no yardstick with which to measure them, but, if we even hinted to Houston at what she may be able to do, I’m terribly afraid that they’d basically order her to take a run at the comet, whether or not there was any real chance of her succeeding, or surviving. She’s our friend, Brent; I can’t justify ordering a friend to commit suicide over a lost cause, and neither can Sam, you just heard that for yourself.”

Even if the fate of our entire planet might turn on whether she can, or she can’t?” Boyd retorted. “I’m closer to her than anyone here, at least that’s how I see it, and I know exactly how you feel about not wanting to see her hurt, but are you willing to see everyone on Earth die, because we don’t want her to take a chance? And about her abilities, well, a few days ago she was claiming to have flown across interstellar space. I’m less of a physicist that you are, Professor, but from what I remember of Einstein’s theories, doing that in less than thousands of years implies a big power source. Big enough, surely, to pop a comet or two.”

Tanaka looked at him accusingly and said, “Originally, I too thought she would be more than able to stop the comet – because she said so, after all – I would have gone along with the idea, but then, later, she backtracked, or that’s how it sounded to me. She says she’s very weak now… maybe that explains why she could do things in the past that she can’t do now. I have no idea what motivates her to say and do the things she says and does – she’s an alien, hundreds of thousands of years old, for God’s sake, how are any of us supposed to really understand her – but based on the available evidence, which is all I have to go on, I don’t think she’s capable of doing anything about ‘Lucifer’, except maybe killing herself by attacking it. Maybe that’s what she wants, to atone for this other civilization she keeps talking about, you know, the one she feels guilty about not saving. If that story, or any of her stories, is even true.”

She continued, “One way or another, right now, I fully agree with Sam – it would be a senseless waste to order her, or to allow her, to attack the comet. And Brent, I don’t suppose you’ve considered the other way in which she might help us?”

By teaching us about alternate worlds that we’ll never reach, about wizards and warlocks, while we slowly run out of oxygen trapped in some sinking ship of a spacecraft, looking down on a dead Earth, Professor?” he shot back. “Was that what you had in mind?”

Sort of,” Tanaka replied, trying not to take the bait. “What if she can’t save Earth, but can help us recover from the disaster, help us rebuild? What if that’s the role she’s meant to play? If we let her kill herself in some suicidal mission against the comet – or if we reveal enough about her to Houston, to give them the idea of doing that – we’ll be throwing away the irreplaceable future assistance that she might be able to give us, when we most need it. As well as sacrificing a friend. One that all of us have come to be very attached to.”

Bully for us,” Boyd said, looking at his feet.

Brent,” Tanaka asked, worriedly, “You aren’t thinking of informing Houston yourself… are you? We had agreed that this conversation was going to be confidential.”

I have to be honest, Professor,” he admitted, “Yes – I was very much considering doing that. A higher duty to our planet, our whole species, as it were. But I won’t… at least for now. I’ve never been crazy about the chain of command, personally; but at the end of the day, it’s up to the Captain – not me, Sergei or Devon – to decide what does, and doesn’t, get disclosed to the powers that be down there. I have to assume that he has made his decisions, in that regard, as best he can. That’ll have to be good enough for me.”

Thanks,” Tanaka said, relieved. “I knew I could count on you, Brent.”

Don’t,” Boyd replied, as he turned from her. “Right now, there’s still room in the lifeboat. But who knows what we’ll all do, when the water gets above our ankles.”

He headed off to the other ship.

Web-Only Content : Introducing… The “Lost Chapters”

The Angel Brings Fire – The “Lost Chapters”

As anyone who has ever written anything that has been published will no doubt attest, it’s never possible to include everything that one has written, in any manuscript. Editing a source manuscript is never a “fun business”; and inevitably, a lot of prose that the writer would have preferred to have left in… gets cut out. (Incidentally – one of the biggest such constraints, in the case of The Angel Brings Fire, is simply the maximum number of pages that can be safely included in a single volume of the paperback versions of the book. This generally limits the narrative to no more than about 450 pages at most.)

During the editing and re-writing process, when it’s known that a particular section of a manuscript is going to be excised, it’s the responsibility of the author (yours truly) to ensure that this doesn’t create “loose ends” to the narrative or plot – that is, something that was adequately-explained when the “deleted” section was still in there, but isn’t, after the “deleted” section is finally gone. I believe that an adequate job has been done of this to date, but from time to time I’ve had readers ask me variations of the question, “hey, wait a minute… how does ‘Character X’ know ‘information Y’ about ‘issue Z’?”.

This is never an enjoyable thing for an author to hear, if for no reason other than one then goes off in a bout of self-second-guessing, asking oneself, “oh sh** – I just knew that I shouldn’t have cut out that section… and now, my readers are telling me that I was right all along!” (Of course, the same could be and likely would be said of any section of the original manuscript, that didn’t survive the trip to the proverbial cutting-room floor.)

In the halcyon “old days” of publishing, there would be no solution to this problem, but with the Internet, we now have an escape-clause… and that’s what I’m introducing with this blog-posting.

Starting today, I’ll be publishing some of the sections that had been cut out of the original Angel Brings Fire manuscript(s), beginning with the first volume of the series (Angel of Mailànkh) and continuing sequentially, until most or all of the excised material has been made available. The only significant exception to this will be narrative that was cut for reasons other than brevity – that is, if the content in question was removed because it (for example) explored plot-options that were dropped for one reason or another, then obviously there’s no point in providing it.

As should also be self-evident, readers should be warned of a Spoiler Alert in all these chapters – you should always read the “official” version of the volume involved, first, before heading to the Web and perusing one of these “Lost Chapters”.

None the less… I hope what’s to come, will help you answer whatever questions that you may have had, about the mysterious and powerful Storied Watcher!

Marcus Shields

Author, The Angel Brings Fire


As those of you who have read the later books in the Angel Brings Fire series will be well-aware, one (hopefully) unique characteristic of those who inherit access to Amaiish (a.k.a. “The Fire“), is the presence of a “war-song”, (or Métschaì’l – MAYT-sha-AYE-el in the Storied Watcher’s own language) – a unique, semi-subconscious melody which sometimes plays in the background, “from everywhere and nowhere” – when one of the “New People” energizes his or her particular alien-power(s).

Not all of the Storied Watcher’s followers have a war-song (even some who have reasonably potent alien-powers don’t have one), and the precise melody experienced by those in the immediate vicinity of a given character who does have a war-song, can vary from time to time. Also, a war-song can be purely ethereal – that is, it “plays” only in the minds of its beholders – at one time, but then manifest itself in conventional (sometimes, very loud and long-ranged) sound-waves, at another time. Nobody really knows why this is, and even Karéin-Mayréij herself is somewhat at a loss to fully explain or control it.

With the above in mind, some readers have asked me, “well, what, exactly, does a ‘war-song’ sound like?”

The answer is simple : “it sounds like, whatever you think it sounds like”.

That having been said, if people want to know what kinds of tunes were going through my mind at the time when I wrote The Angel Brings Fire, I can tell you what my conception is of the war-songs used by some of the major characters… please note, this is obviously not a definitive list, and is not meant to over-rule you own imagination of what these (mostly) subtle, background-hymns would sound like, if encountered up close.

Note : Trademarks and copyrights to all songs belong to their respective owners and are only reproduced here for informative purposes.

Karéin-Mayréij : The Storied Watcher, as you might imagine, has a wide variety of these war-songs, which vary according to which combination of powers that she happens to be using.

However, I always imagined [SPOILER ALERT!] the scene when she explodes through the underground ceiling in the bottom of the R.B. Cheney Detention Facility, as being set to the exciting, rapid-paced tune of Song Seven, by Interpol or perhaps the first part of Livin’ On A Prayer by Bon Jovi (up to about 0:45 into the song), although at other times, her appearance is accompanied by a stirring, exciting blast of music akin to what’s heard at about the 2:48 mark of Heading For Nowhere by Jets Overhead or in What I’ve Done by Linkin Park (first 0:23 of the song).

And for those of you who remember Book 2 (Doubt Me Not), the ethereal song playing in Bob Billings’ car, while “Sari” pours out her heart to her new-found friends and the shocked humans begin to realize who’s in the back seat, is When Tomorrow Comes, by The Shore.

The Storied Watcher’s death-run against the “Lucifer” comet sounded (as is mentioned in Angel of Mailànkh) like a kind of godly improvement on the last few bars of the iconic Stairway To Heaven, by Led Zeppelin.

Karéin’s “oo-oo-oo” wail, which frequently accompanies her appearance at the scene of a battle, sounds like the equivalent, eerie wail done by Loreena McKennitt, in her great Celtic masterpiece, The Mummer’s Dance.

A few “war-songs” are “common” to all of the Storied Watcher’s “major” disciples; these empower all of the “more-than-humans” within earshot, when they are about to collectively embark on a major voyage, task, battle or quest. These “shared” war-songs typically have the electric, fast-paced beat found in Iridescent by Linkin Park (riff starting at 2:43) and in Frost by Vertical Horizon (riff starting at 3:39).

Tommy Singing-Bird George : Like his adopted mother, Tommy has a variety of war-songs, but the most common one (which you really don’t want to hear, especially if he’s aiming in your direction at the time) sounds somewhat similar to Bryan Adams’ immortal guitar chords at 2:35 into Run To You. His more “standard” war-song is reminiscent of the first few bars of New Divide, by Linkin Park.

Cherie Tanaka : Underneath by Alanis Morissette (the riff that starts at about 3:05 into the song). Her war-wail “oo-ai-oo” sounds like a combination of what you hear on Underneath and the similar sound at the 1:09 mark of Geraldine by Glasvegas (and keep in mind, when “The First Of The Fire” – as is the case with her angelic mentor – fully empowers herself, the effect is overwhelming; Tanaka’s war-song reverberates everywhere and leaves no doubt as to who’s on the way!

Sam Jacobson : 9th Life by Papa Roach; the song nicely captures Jacobson’s unstoppable, hard-charging, indestructible motif.

Brent Boyd : Broken Over You by Vertical Horizon, starting at about the 28-second mark.

Devon White : This one was difficult to decide, because there’s no popular song (at least not one with which I’m familiar) that is a close match for his dignified, inspirational, yet fast-paced and exciting, war-song. That said, let’s go with an admixture (if that’s possible) of parts of Quiet As A Mouse by Margot And The Nuclear So & So’s (at 0:17 into the song) and Harbour Lights by A Silent Film, starting at about 2:25.

Sergei Chkalov : Who knows? All I can say is, “if you heard Sergei’s war-song, you’d think it second only to perhaps Tanaka’s.”  Update : I now know what the redoubtable Mr. Chkalov’s war-song is; it’s Spokoynaya Noch’ by that greatest of Russian rock bands, Kino. Listen especially for the mind-blowing guitar at about 3:32 and you’ll know what it sounds like when Sergei lights up his personal Fire!

Minnie Chu : Another Way In by the Rosebuds, especially the riff starting at about the 0:40 time position. (When Ms. Chu fires her rather wicked stare, the accompanying sound is Jimi Hendrix’ famous, never-duplicated guitar wail at about 2:00 into All Along The Watchtower.)

Sylvia Abruzzio : Back-beat from Change The Sheets, by Kathleen Edwards, especially the part at about 1:58 into the song. This one is probably the best example of all, regarding how a war-song works; imagine the pace of the ephemeral, exciting, stirring electro-rock back-beat picking up, as Sylvia powers up her abilities, in similar manner to how it goes in this great tune.

Will Hendricks : My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark, by Fall Out Boy, especially the very first part of the song “bam wham thank you Ma’am”…

Misha (a.k.a. Mikhail Grishin) : This is a pretty hard one because I don’t have access to a lot of good, contemporary Russian rock music. So I’ll go with Hear Me by Imagine Dragons (the one from the Answers To Nothing soundtrack, not the inferior radio version!)

Wolf (a.k.a. Darryl D. Bennington) : Did you even have to askHell’s Bells by AC/DC, and also Fire Woman by The Cult (move that pointer to 0:40 and turn the volume to “11”).  😉

Otis Boatman : Forever by Papa Roach, starting at about the 0:52-second mark.

Hector Ramirez : Another one that was hard to decide upon exactly due to the lack of a good match; but let’s pick The Harbour by Leaves, starting at about 35 seconds into the song.

Jerry Kaysten : Calgary by Bon Iver, but only the short part beginning at the song’s 1:50 mark; this melody predominates when Jerry uses his “killer joke” ability. When running at high speed, his war-song sounds more like Time Turns Around by the Spoons.

Sebastiàn : Try to imagine a version of Cold Seed by Tiamat (starting at approximately 42 seconds into the song), but with a Latino beat, and that’s what this sinister and very potent “new human’s” war-song sounds like. His war-song also has (duh!) some elements of Poison by Shiny Toy Guns.

Bob Billings : There’s nothing in my music collection that’s exactly like the former salesman’s angry, ominous war-song, but the closest equivalent is Fine Again by Seether, starting at about the 1:00 mark in the song, or perhaps the riff in Narc by Interpol, found at the 0:57 mark. (It should be noted that Billings doesn’t really like using all of these “weirdo” alien-powers, so his war-song isn’t very often heard… but if you do hear it… time to get out of the way!)

Whitney Claremont : It’s not an exact match, but Healing Begins by Tenth Avenue North, is pretty close. (Off-topic note : Finally, a Christian-rock group that’s able and willing to write and perform good music, as opposed to beating you over the head with “inspirational” lyrics. Maybe there is a God?) Whitney’s war-song also (when she is pushing her powers to the limit) sounds a lot like Afer Ventus by Enya.

Melissa Claremont : Another one that’s not right on the mark but let’s go with Silenced By The Night by Keane.

Curtis Claremont : Fortunately for the eardrums of the other “more-than-humans”, young master Claremont doesn’t get to use his primary alien-power very much within the scope of the Angel Brings Fire series. However, I’ve always thought that if he could, you’d hear something sort of like some bars from Sometimes by Ours, at about the 2:44 mark.

Donny Wade : A fairly easy one… Hey Now by Augustana, especially the great slide guitar found at about 2:35 in that song, but also with elements found in The Struggle by Grizfolk.

Saquina White : The riff of Evermore by Vertical Horizon, starting at the 1:31 mark.

As noted above, these are my conceptions of what the war-songs of the major characters from the Angel Brings Fire series sound like; but they needn’t be yours. Think of any kind of music that’s (a) exciting with a good beat and (b) you like to hear, and play that in the background as you read The Angel Brings Fire!

Marcus Shields

Author, The Angel Brings Fire

Characters from Angel and The Empire

Following on a post of the same nature related to the character list from Doubt Me Not, here are some more popular-culture similes of the characters in the third book of the Angel Brings Fire series. (Note : Obviously, quite a few of the characters from the first two books are also in Angel and The Empire, and with one minor and one rather <ahem> “important” exception, I’m not going to re-portray these; what’s depicted below, except for the Storied Watcher, represents the “net new” characters from Angel and The Empire.)

First off, since the post that originally described the book’s characters, I’ve stumbled across a better “prototype” for Karéin-Mayréij, a.k.a. the Storied Watcher. This is the former Google chief architect and (as of when this is being written) the new CEO of Yahoo, namely, Marissa Mayer. She’s almost a perfect “fit” for Karéin… if her hair was done a bit differently and she had, err, somewhat longer incisors, she’d be bang-on. You’ll see what I mean by looking at this picture and this one.

The next “new” major character in Angel and The Empire, Jerry Kaysten (who is the President’s Chief of Staff… he’s actually in Doubt Me Not, but not in as important a role), has been a hard one to find a prototype for. However, if you can imagine a slightly older Jack McBrayer from 30 Rock, with thinning hair, you’ll get the idea… and the redoubtable Mr. McBrayer certainly has perfectly captured Jerry Kaysten’s eager-beaver, “anything-to-please-the-Boss”, style.

As those of you who have read it (teaser alert!) will be aware, during the course of Angel and The Empire, the Storied Watcher manages to “recruit” a number of new followers. Two of these – “Wolf” (a Tucson-area bounty-hunter) and Mikhail Grishin, a.k.a. “Misha” (a Russian deep-cover spy) – are similar to the wrestler William “Christian” Reso and this (anonymous?) Russian Spetsnaz model, respectively. (Note : “Misha” is slightly older than the guy depicted in the latter picture.)

Incidentally, I have also found an even better prototype for Minnie Chu : namely, the famous “Lady Whirlwind” of the Hong Kong martial arts film industry, the redoubtable Angela Mao Ying. Angela (in her younger days) is an almost perfect image of the FBI team leader.

Marcus Shields

Author, The Angel Brings Fire