The
sun was blazing down on the small clearing in the woods where a small log cabin
stood, flanked by a running stream where the fishing was good. A young man in
his early twenties sat at the left of the door with his head back and an old,
straw had over his eyes. Sleep was a luxury for Romula Chatory so he grabbed it
whenever the ghosts of the past allowed him. Behind the hat his eyes were closed
and behind his eyes there was nothing but peaceful slumber. There were no bright
flashes shooting across a black sky, no screams of men, women and young children
as they ran for their very lives. Just quiet and the darkness.
Then something stirred in the deep recesses
of his mind that never slept, like an alarm, the senses let him know something
was near. In a moment Romula was awake. He pushed back his hat to reveal dark
brown eyes, high cheekbones, a small round nose and rounded chin and long wavy
brown hair that fell over one eye.
He did not move in a hurry as in fright but
turned his head slowly to his right just in time to see the tail of a snake
disappear under his chair and when he looked to his left his hand moved with
lightning speed. He scooped up the snake, a small green with gold diamonds along
it’s back, and with the other hand, had the snake by its neck. He brought its
hissing mouth up close to his own face, shook his head and in a quiet voice
said, “I’ve told you before, you’re home is the trees.” Romula stood up,
walked to the edge of the clearing with the snake in both hands and gently
lowered it into the foliage.
He watched it slither away into the woods
before looking up to the sky. Something was not quite right, he could feel it.
There was trouble on the horizon. Romula turned for the cabin to ready himself
for the journey ahead.
***
Under
the sun but in a location far from Romula, a pair of legs laid out from under a
car, which laid still on a cement driveway next a brick house. Behind the parked
car came the sound of slow tires on gravel, the sound stopped. Two car doors
opened, one after the other, and then closed. A moment later two rounded men
stood on either side of the legs.
“Hey you,” came the gruff voice of the
larger man “Where’s the old man?”
“Yeah,” Said the shorter, but broader
one. “He said he’d meet us here.”
After a moment of silence, the first man
spoke again “Hey! I’m talking to you!” and followed up with ramming the
toe of his black shoe into one of the legs.
There came a deep growling from behind them
and they turned to see a mean looking black and white boarder collie watching
them with teeth bared.
“What do you want with my farther?” Came a feminine voice from behind
the men. When the two turned around again a young woman of 17 years was standing
where the legs had been. She was wearing jeans and a blue shirt. Her blond hair
fell over her face and she pushed it back over her shoulder with her hand to
reveal a grease mark on her cheek before resting her hand on her hip.
“He owes our boss money and today he’s paying, or else!”
The larger of the men replied.
Cassandra DePaul took one step and looked
straight into his eyes. “Or else what?”
He pointed at her, “Little girl, you
don’t want to mess with me.”
Cassandra smirked slightly, then, in one
quick motion, grabbed the man’s hand and yanked it behind his back so that she
was standing behind him. She turned around, keeping his arm in place, so that
she was facing the other man and stated, “From what I understand, my father
owes you nothing, but I’ll make good his debt.” She pushed the man away and
announced to them both “Be at the Mary Walker park tonight at Ten. Now get out
of here!”
The two men backed off, the stout man saying
“You’d better be there” before they both returned to their vehicle.
After they had left, Cassandra looked up at the house. The dog, Monty,
was still there, but was now wagging his tail.
Cassandra’s eyes were sad. That morning
she saw the newspaper story that would have made her father, Frank DePaul so
upset. He had worked on an earth base, convoying messages during the war. She
hadn’t seen him since she was a small child, but she learned from his letters.
The crash could only be an omen. At least she would have fun taking care of her
father’s business.
***
Soon
after the school bell went, kids in uniforms of green and black started spilling
out of the large doors at the front of the building. One of them came out in a
run and didn’t stop until he got to his bike. He jumped on the seat and
peddled as fast as he could out of there, through the gate and along the
pavement, passing the parked cars with waiting parents. Tory, 10 years old with
red hair and a freckled face, was a computer hacker. He lived, breathed and
dreamed computers and the Internet. A few days ago Tory came across some kind of
code message that had been sent from space to an unspecified location, and was
drifting in cyberspace, so to say.
Parking his bike next to his house, Tory ran
up the stairs, petting his dog as he went. “Hello Shelly” he muttered to his
golden retriever before running down the hall to his bedroom, followed closely
by Shelly.
Tory ran into his room, ignoring his
mother’s calls, shutting the door behind him and throwing bag onto his bed.
Tory turned his computer on and waited for it to boot up. Tory clicked onto an
icon and a box appeared on screen asking him what to run. Tory punched in
something, and the message that he had found opened up. It had only been
partially decoded, but it wouldn’t be long now. The program had nearly
completed the decryption process when his door swung open and his mother walked
in.
“young
man, I got a call from your teacher today saying you haven’t been doing your
homework.” Tory protested with his hands but didn’t get a chance to say
anything.
“You
turn that computer off, clean this room, then do your homework”
“But
mum..”
“I
don’t want to hear it. Just look at this place.”
Tory
did look. Shelly was on the bed on a pile of clothes looking back at him, but it
didn’t seem too bad to him. A little messy, maybe, but he knew where
everything was. Plus, it was all accessible, as it should be.
“Now,
turn that computer off!”
“But
mum, I just…”
“No
buts! Turn it off, now!”
That
basically did it. Tory knew when he was beaten. He reached for the switch and
his finger was depressing it when something was coming on the screen. When he
let it go the image was gone. He sat there staring at the blank screen as his
mother stood behind him.
Did
he see what he thought he saw? Did it really say what he thought it said?
“What
are you waiting for, get cleaning” His mother said sternly. Tory stood up and
began to collect his dirty clothes.
“I
think you’re nearly ready to move onto the next step of your twelve-step
program, mister.” His mother joked, “When your room’s clean, and when your
homework’s done, you can play as much as you want.” She said, leaving him
behind in his room as she shut the door.
Tory
still had the bright digital words on the black screen burned into his mind as
he put items away without thinking.
“Gundams…
Delta… Invasion… you are earth’s last chance”