Walsh Estate Winery, Temecula, CA

February 4, 2013

2:13 PM

45 days since The Wave

Scott Dunne and Katie Walsh watched from the patio as Katie’s parents drove away in the company van. An uneasy feeling dwelled inside Scott, like every other feeling when heading into town.

“You sure that’s what they want?” He asked Katie.

“You heard me telling them no, but they needed it,” Katie said with arms crossed from a similar feeling.

Brenda and Jonathan Walsh needed a break from everything. Business, family, and alien related. A simple break—lunch and a movie. But if anything bad happened, Jonathan stashed a revolver in the glove compartment and a small pistol in Brenda’s purse.

“I’m not liking this one bit,” Scott said, squeezing Katie’s shoulder. “The town is not even close to being settled. I can imagine an idiot transforming in the theater.”

“So much for changing their minds.”

Nothing else to do but wait until they come home, which was unnerving given that the adults owned the winery. It just wasn’t the right time for the young terrans to inherit a four-generation winery all a sudden.

Scott and Katie, still, were the only terrans on the property. Only a matter of time until another family member, or one of their workers, sports elf ears, tails, biological armor, and magical energies. And Katie was the most knowledgeable on terran magic. Her knowledge and skills were still not incorporated, Jonathan Walsh’s wish until he fully understood it.

Robert Walsh, the oldest son and nearly dressed in black, walked up carrying a wine crate for the store.

“They actually did it?” He asked. The couple nodded. Robert looked back at the gates. “Wow. I didn’t think they were that serious.”

“They brought their guns,” Katie added.

Robert jerked his head to the side. “Still. I can see an idiot transforming in the open.”

“You read my mind,” Scott said.

“Let me know when they get back. I got errands to do too.” He adjusted his grip on the box and went back to the storefront.

The couple were heading back inside, but Scott stopped and closed his eyes, hearing a familiar engine from the driveway. A pack animal’s howl, but coupled with a high-pitched electric engine of raw power. Scott could also hear Robert’s audible curse and running into the store. Enhanced terran hearing Scott appreciated.

“Please tell me it’s a golf cart dragging a wolf,” Katie said.

“I wish.” Scott sighed and turned back as an alien motorcycle pulled up.

The level of design, engineering and technology far exceeded that if any human motorcycle. The prominent feature were the tires—twice the size of rear chopper tires yet able to perform tight turns. The frame was thick metal but shaped and forged like it was built by an organic metal alien. The condition was far from new; it made countless rides and survived unaccounted battles, riddled with holes, dents, and scraps of its matt black and red paint. Powering the beast was a small fusion core charging a high-output electrical engine. The controls were written in an alien language, the rider’s language.

The alien rider with digitigrade legs took off his helmet, misshapen skindreads made of wood draped over his shoulders, and longer since the last time Scott seen him. His clothes seemed to have been washed—white sleeveless tunic, black short, and sandals. The pistol holster was wrapped around his waist, his alternative besides his sword and bulky plasma rifle.

Scott shook his head. “Jaruka why—”

“Can’t chat now,” Jaruka said with his universal translator on his neck. “Saw them leave while coming.”

“Yes but why—“

“No time. I got no time!” He was in a hurry by his moves. Why at the winery confused the couple. “Move, kids, this is important.”

He got off the motorcycle and walked passed the couple, carrying a familiar, technical-looking briefcase, and a black plastic bag. He stood seven feet tall and had to duck under the door jam, nearly bumping into Katie.

“Wait…come one. What’s the problem? Who did you tick off this time?” Scott asked and went inside.

“No big problem, just taking over your big screen monitor.”

“You mean the TV.”

“Right. Whatever.” Jaruka set the items on the coffee table (a brand new one) and opened the briefcase. It the only communication device Jaruka had for off-world talks. Scott wondered every time how it worked, including the three rings surrounding an oddly familiar purple crystal. Yet the Wave crystals could not match the Slipspace crystal’s purpose. Slipspace crystals do not have black lines on the edges.

In seconds, the ring device moved, purple light emitted from the crystal, and several beeps came from the device. The window lit up with alien symbols and graphs. Jaruka made quick commands and stood up.

“Is this for Denverbay?” Katie asked.

“Crog no, it’s mine for a few hours and you can’t do crap about it.”

“Why would we? You’re armed.”

Jaruka stepped over a dog sleeping at the foot of the couch. Normal dog by sight, but he was Scott’s totem, Keeji. The Siberian husky snored away after scaring animals away from the vineyard early morning, not even picking up Jaruka’s sweaty pine scent. Jaruka plugged a couple cables to the briefcase’s side and went to the TV over the fireplace.

“So it’s not work related?” Scott asked.

“No, race related,” Jaruka cleared.

“Race?”

“Howler Cycle regional championships. It’s preliminaries week,” Jaruka answered after connecting the cable to the TV and back to the couch with the remote. Somehow Jaruka figured out the remote control and flip channels to the input feeds. A warning sign for Scott, either Jaruka finally accepted the earth’s Internet and read an owner’s manual, or the mercenary snuck in late at night and learned himself.

From Jaruka’s stature, he looked more excited in a long time.

“Well why can’t you watch it at the ship? You know how Mom and Dad are when you’re here,” Katie reminded him, and Scott nodded.

Jaruka paused and looked up. “The what?”

“Your ship. The dropship.”

“Uh…yeah,” he said looking over the living room, but no eye contact. “Um…my monitors suffered spontaneous explosions. And they’re not big enough.”

“You’re kidding?” Scott asked with slouched shoulders and limp tail.

He paused, looking around the living room, then continued with the TV. Had be a yes. Jaruka’s device popped a little apart, but stayed together by soldered cables and crystals. “Don’t mind that, the glue sucks.”

Katie whispered in Scott’s ear. “Looks like soil and spit to me.” Scott nodded. Soil yes, but Jaruka’s dread oils, and does not hold together.

Picture on the TV changed to what showed on the briefcase’s screen. “Yes, it works!” Jaruka said with a smile, then screamed at the ceiling, “Take that Wringheart! You’re not the only crack engineer in Nova!”

Jaruka sat down, making the couch creak from his weight. Keeji stayed the same. Inside the black bag was food from off world, some made Scott’s stomach churn just looking at it. One snack was a mix between a cockroach and hamster, roasted.

“Now be aware, I might get rowdy, so watch your faces.” He popped the cork on a bottle of Nova homebrew, sipped it, and laid back. He chewed one snack and Katie quivered in disgust.

Scott knew first hand how sports fanatics were from bars past. Less not forget, Jaruka still had his plasma pistol.

Scott walked away from Jaruka and whispered to Katie, “So much for our somewhat peaceful day. What are we going to do?”

“We can’t just leave him alone,” Katie said swallowing. “He’ll make a mess on the couch.”

A loud crunch came from Jaruka, then a sucking sound. Scott tried not to look.

“Speaking of watching him, we have to.”

“Yep.”

“But not alone. Keeji’s useless.”

“What?” Katie asked.

“Wanna stay down here for a chance? You’ve been in your room for a while. You need the fresh air.”

“You’re serious?” Katie eyed Jaruka.

Scott nodded.

Katie sighed and whispered, “I know, but me and Arana are close to completing enchanted item research.”

Wish she did not keep at the magic every day, Scott thought.

“And finish your study program,” Katie added, placing a finger on Scott’s chest, close to touching the scar.

Scott whined. “You’ve had your face in that book ever since we got back. You can do that down here, with safe distance. I don’t mind you two talking. As your boyfriend, you need a break.” It may have been good advise for Katie, but considering that Scott could not use magic yet, he could not understand Katie’s long-lived fantasy come to life. “After all, you have the power to stop Jaruka.”

“I heard that!” Jaruka yelled with a mouth full of whatever.

Katie had to think for a moment, and she agreed. “Just make sure he’s not talking in my direction.” Scott kissed her forehead, gaining a small sigh from her.

Agreeable, yes, but Scott was a bit creeped out once Katie and Arana, her red-tailed hawk totem perched on the recliner’s back, made inaudible gestures and faces at each other. Katie discovered telepathy, and mastered it, last month. The Celtic tattoo glowing on her forehead showed it. Helpful for late night studies.

Scott sat not too close to Jaruka on the couch. At least the alien had manners.

From the sportscast, the vast array of alien species changed from camera to camera. Scott was amused in a way; some were recognized from the Endeavour, many were new. Scott took note that Howler Cycle races were like Terra Firma races, but instead of stock parts and circular tracks, it’s weapons, dangerous tracks, point-driven objectives, and rival riders with grudges. The array of Howler Cycle designs were higher compared to Jaruka’s. A fight broke out half way in the race between two aliens on the black tarmac, near a white-light power stream.

“That one there, the naga creature,” Jaruka said. “That’s a Skrilgax, magical. And the other is Octocre.”

Scott was not paying attention, just making sure Jaruka did not offer him a bit of his “snacks,” but he looked. “He looks like that commander from Brill’s crew.”

“Kantra,” Jaruka said, and squeezed the food in his hand. “Bastard must be winning his bets by now.”

Why’s there such an issue with him and Kantra? Scott thought. And why is he explaining all this stuff?

A loud snap from the screen made Scott to look. The Octocre broke the Skrilgax’s right arm in three places. Medics and officers quelled the fight minutes later as the other racers sped by, then quickly disqualified since hand-to-hand fights were outlawed.

Katie never paid attention. Katie had her spellbook on her lap, eyes never leaving the pages. The dedication was high.

Wonder if I’ll match her strength…

In the middle of Jaruka explaining the rules and various species—in between cheers and hollers at his favorite riders—a loud crash came from the kitchen.

“Whoa,” Scott yelled, but dubbed down to a whisper. “The hell was that?”

Katie stood up, knocking over her spellbook and notebook. Arana was startled and flapped her wings. “Sounds like the window. I’ll check it out,” she whispered too.

Scott stood. A memory came to mind. “Uh, remember last time you used offense magic?” he said.

“I practiced. I’m not so jumpy anymore.” Katie beamed.

“Either a stranger or it’s Jacob ditching school again. I’ll check it out.”

“But you have no ma…”

“I’ll be fine. Trust me. I have Jaruka to back me up.”

“You don’t have to be all macho for me.” Katie crossed her arms.

Jaruka slowly looked up at Scott with a glare, whispering, “Are you mad? I never miss these races.”

“So I have no real backup?”

“You fired a rifle while running and nearly killed an immortal. You can handle it, kid.” Jaruka took a drink.

Scott rolled his eyes. “Fine. Keeji, bad guy.”

Keeji huffed, protested for a second to sleep some more, but got up. “To battle, buddy.” He yawned.

“And turn the sound down,” Scott asked Jaruka, and he did by half during an announcer talk at halftime.

Since the Wave and the countrywide zombie attack, Jonathan became paranoid. Like the guns in the car and purse, there were more around the house. Baseball bats for one, like the Louisville Slugger Scott grabbed from the fireplace. Katie fussed over them saying that her magic could protect the family and can enchant the weapons for a better “oomph,” but seeing holes in walls from unpracticed offense spells in her bedroom, non-magic attempts were the winner.

Scott and Keeji sneaked to the kitchen keeping out of sight. Katie’s eyes were on him, none from Jaruka. Rummaging sounds were heard from the fridge. Jacob always comes home from school for a meal. If not, more trouble. Back against a wall, the noise stopped.

“Keeji, take a look,” Scott said. His tail twitched in anticipation. Just as the husky did, the fridge door slammed shut, then footsteps. Scott lived in the house long enough to tell the person went into the walk-in pantry.

Keeji yelped and backed away.

“Was it Jacob?” Scott asked him.

The husky’s eyes were big as ping-pong balls and his tail was between his legs. “Not Jacob. Definitely not. It’s a terran girl with poofed up hair and covered in dirt. I can’t get her smell out out my nose.”

Dammit, Scott thought. He signaled Katie to be ready.

“You just made a serious mistake,” Scott started. “You entered a house with two terrans and a grump with a bad temper. Just come on out and let’s talk.”

Scott caught Jaruka giving the evil eye. “Grump?”

Short pause, then a young girl’s voice came. “Scott? Scott, is that you?”

Scott blinked. “Uh…yeah.”

“Remember me? It’s Andrea. I…I need help. I don’t know what to do!”

A major memory clicked inside Scott’s mind, then a sickening feeling came up. “No way. Andrea? That really you?”

“Yes! Please!”

“Hang on!” Scott turned to Katie. Katie nodded. No doubt, that voice had to be the daughter of the winery’s former accountant.

Then Scott turned into the kitchen and stopped, dropping the bat. “Jesus.”

He had not seen Andrea since last summer. Scott thought it was not Andrea and it was an imposter. No doubt her black hair and face was familiar. Her hair before was straight. Now it was tangled, unruly, and dotted with dirt. Her clothes were the similar condition with rips in her jeans and Adventure Time t-shirt. The sandals on her dirt-coated feet were crying to be thrown with the garbage.

Keeji was right about her being a terran. Besides from the scrapped and scabbed two-foot tail and armor plating and elf ears poking out of the hair, it was Andrea Livingston.

But not a welcoming sight for Andrea.

The little girl screamed. Her bare arms ripped with blue Celtic symbols, then without uttering a word, raised her hands and casted her spell.

Scott ducked backwards to the floor hitting his back in time before the kinetic force hit him. “Whoa!” The spell sailed over the lounge area and crashed into the wall, knocking down a few pictures from the nails, a few feet from the TV.

Jaruka yelled something in his language.

Keeji screamed, “Armed terran in the house!” while running up the stairs.

Scott took a breath from the shock and sat up. “Andrea calm down, it’s me. Remember? Katie’s boyfriend?”

“Can’t be. Scott is not a terran. And he’s chubby.” Scott was on the heavy side, but the transformation gave him a healthy outcome. Andrea’s tattoos still burned with charged mana.

“I know. Scared myself too, but it’s really me. Forget the terran thing now. Just settle down and let’s talk.”

Katie came up beside him. “Andrea, it’s Katie.” She asked from her cover. “Good God. What happened to you?”

“Katie?” Life was back in her voice.

“Yes it’s me. Relax, Andrea. Katie’s here to help.” If any person could calm Andrea, it’s a familiar, caring voice of the Walsh family.

Scott heard Andrea’s voice soften. “I can’t tru…No. How can I be…You sure?…”

The mumbling was sure notice—Andrea had her totem with her. Scott did not see it, but it must be inside her.

Scott stood up. “Andrea, take a deep breath. We’re here to help.” The couple approached her like careful observers. Anything could set off the girl’s magic.

Andrea flexed her palms and went to complete distress. Tears tricked from her eyes smearing the dirt on her cheeks. It broke Scott’s heart to see that. “P-Please…help me,” she begged, wiping the tears.

Footsteps came from the second hallway toward the kitchen and a large weapon pointed down at the little girl’s forehead, inches from her face. The sides and the barrel glowed neon green. From sadness to shock, she looked up at Jaruka.

“Ah shit,” Scott said.

Jaruka sniffed with wild eyes at Andrea. “Better not cast another, the race was getting good,” he said with a rumbling voice.

Andrea feinted.

Scott and Katie’s jaws opened. “Dude, what the fuck!?” Scott said.

Jaruka lowered and powered down his custom plasma rifle, sighing, and noticing the couple. “What? I stopped it, didn’t I?” he said. “I wasn’t going to shoot you know. She’s just a kid.” He shook his head and walked back to the couch.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Katie commented.

“No, you wont,” Jaruka said plopping back into the couch.

Scott urged Katie to check Andrea. They knelt beside her.

The young terran was out cold. No words or shakes could snap her awake.

“Geeze. It’s like she’s been in the country for weeks,” Scott said. “What the heck happened to her?”

“We’ll find out soon enough,” Katie said. “Help me with her. After that, call Beth and Morgan.” She went for Andrea’s shoulders and Scott went for her feet.

“I have a sick feeling about this,” Scott said as he moved the girl to the living room.

“Me too.”