PREFACE:

THE LONG JOURNEY

First of all, I'd like to thank you for your choice of this book. What you are not aware of is that these characters and story have been a part of my life for over twenty years.

I recall many years ago reading the introduction to Stephen King's novel THE DARK TOWER: THE GUNFIGHTER, and being amazed at the fact that it had taken twelve years for King finish the book. At the time I couldn't believe that any writer could keep a story alive for that long. Now, I do.

It began in the fall of 1984 when I was attending the College of San Mateo. I was given the assignment of writing a short, twenty minute, script for film class. At the time I was a fan of the British Science Fiction series Doctor Who, so I decided I would do my script in a similar vein. Thus, I decided my main character would be an alien time traveler, and that I'd call him The Traveler (not a typo, by the way. I'm aware that there is another Sci Fi character named The Traveller out there). I decided my story would be about how The Traveler comes to Earth to stop another alien time traveler who had come to destroy the Earth.

Anyway, to make a long story short, I wrote the script and for the next two years went to work producing a short film based on it. The result was my student film, The Traveler: Two to Doomsday.

My film teachers gave me an excellent grade and I figured that was that. But The Traveler had other ideas.

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During my final year at the College of San Mateo I got interested in writing novels and short stories. My first attempt was a Doctor Who fan fiction novel titled Doctor Who: The Vengeance of Omega. After finishing this work I felt confident enough to begin an original work of my own. But what would I write about? The first thing that came to my mind was The Traveler. But the thing was I didn't want to create a carbon copy of Doctor Who. So, I sat down and thought what aspects I liked in Doctor Who and other science fiction and what I could do to make my story my own.

What I decided was that rather than go for a lot of tongue in cheek humor, like was prevalent in Doctor Who I would strive to make my story more serious and emotionally centered. In order to do this I figured I needed to get the reader to really care about the characters. To do this I tried to give them more rounded back stories, rather than making them one dimensional comic book characters. Which proved very difficult given the fact that my story centered on a main character that wore a straw hat, paint splatter patterned shirt, and drove a flying RV. But in the end I figure I achieved my goal.

The main reason why this book has taken so long to complete was because it seemed like fate, itself, was against me. It started with the outline.

My mentor in all things writing, William C. Knott, wrote about how important the outline to a novel is, and how many writers would spend up to a year writing it. So, with great care I did just that.

Anyway, I was nearly finished with my outline when my nephew, Orion, came to visit. I had been working on the outline and had left my Cannon CAT work processor (A major purchasing blunder on my part.)on to go to get a cup of coffee. Well, my nephew

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decided he wanted to use my video game system. So, he unplugged my work processor without turning it off.

The result was a years worth of work somehow got scrambled. Thus, because I didn't know to make backup disks of my work, I ended up having to rewrite the entire thing over.

The next amusing incident happened a couple of years later, when I was only four chapters away from finishing my rough draft of the book. A fire started in the living room of my house. Though the majority of my house didn't burn, there was still smoke damage. Anyway, the restoration company our insurance company hired to take care of my family's personal belongings refused to allow me to keep possession of my work processor, even though it had not been damaged in the fire, nor had it been smoked because of its dust cover. So, for the next year and a half I didn't have access to my work processor.

Then, of course, when I finally got my CAT

back it had somehow got damaged while being in storage. The insurance company paid to get me a new word processor, but because the Cannon CAT work processor wasn't compatible with other word processors I lost all my work, even with a dozen backups.

So, for the next three years not only did I have to rewrite all the chapters I'd already finished, I also had to rewrite the damned outline again.

Then, a couple of years later my work on the book stopped yet again, but this time it was because of something more positive. I 'd gotten a contract to write a series of four young adult novels based on the Friday The Thirteenth franchise. This turned out to be a nightmare unto itself in that the publishers tricked me into a contract requiring me to finish all four novels in one year. So, you can imagine that after the amazing

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feat of actually finishing all those novels in so short of

a time I'd need a bit of a rest. So for the next few years The Traveler remained unfinished and sitting in limbo in the disk holder next to my word processor.

During this time I exchanged my word processor for a computer and my interests turned to the internet. For my first web site I decided to create a video review site with a couple of unique characters to host it. Immediately, my mind went to The Traveler again. Thus, The Video Traveler and Rifc's Video Review was born.

Surprisingly enough the site was a hit and it inspired me to create other sites. Thus, I went on to create Bill's Puppet Master Website, Friday The Thirteenth: Jason's Bloodbath, and more importantly Outpost Vevetta.

It was during the time that I was building Outpost Vevetta that I began to get a renewed interest in finishing The Traveler. This was because I'd seen many sites on the web that had original fiction and I got the idea of adding a preview page and seeing what people thought of my work.

Since then I've gotten a lot of input from my fans on the web, which has been invaluable when it came to finishing and editing this novel. And, though over the past few years I have strayed a bit at times to write another Friday The Thirteenth novel, and to work on the screenplay for a horror film anthology titled The Horror Seasons, I always seem to manage to come back to the world of The Traveler.

And thus, I have finally reached the conclusion of this journey.....but when one journey ends another begins....

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PROLOGUE

The man in the hooded cloak watched as the Guardian of the Halls exited the last of the visitors from the exhibit halls. The lights dimmed to half intensity, deepening the shadows that were already present and causing new ones to be formed as well.

The hooded man watched, from his hiding place behind a suit of primitive eight limbed armor from a planet in the Traguith system, as the old man closed the main entrance and started walking down the hall giving each exhibit a cursory examination as he went by.

He held his breath as the Guardian passed his hiding place. Luckily, with the way the shadows hit the armor the Guardian didn't notice him kneeling behind it. Lucky for the Guardian that is. he thought as he slowly let his breath out. It was too soon for him to make his move.

He waited until the old man entered the next exhibit hall before coming out from his hiding place and following him.

Walking with the quiet precision of a hunter stalking his prey he made it to the entrance to the next hall, stood to the side and watched the Guardian as he did his rounds.

He continued this routine until the Guardian reached the exhibit hall with the gold colored plaque that read PLANET CENTURA. Now, he thought, now!

He knew he had to be quick. Even though the

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exhibit halls didn't have an alarm or monitoring system there was still a chance that if he gave the Guardian an opporunity to cry out someone might hear.

He focused all his attention on the job at hand. He went over what he was going to do movement by movement.

He tasted salt as a drop of perspiration touched his lip. His mouth went dry. He held his breath. His

muscles tensed. Now, he thought, now!

Then he struck.

He bolted out from the entrance and charged at the Guardian. The old man had barely enough time to turn, before he was on him. The hooded man brought his fist down on the soft area at the back of the old man's skull, letting out his breath as he did so.

The Guardian's knees buckled and he started to fall forward, but the hooded man caught him.

He gently laid the old man face up on the floor. He put his index and forefinger against the Guardian's carotid and checked his pulse. Then he took a small pocket light out from under his cloak and checked to see if his eyes were dilated. I'm sorry, he thought as he looked down at the unmoving, craggy, white haired, and bearded face of the Guardian. It isn't death I wish to bring.

Satisfied that the Guardian would recover, he went on with his business.

He started checking the different exhibit cases for the items he needed. They must be around here someplace. he thought after a short period of time looking through the cases without success.

Then, after what seemed to him like an eternity, but was in actuality a mere matter of minutes, his efforts bore fruit. The devices in the display case weren't very

impressive visually by any means, but they didn't have to

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be. Their function was what mattered.

The larger of the two devices was nothing more than an eight by ten inch unadorned gray metal box. The other looked like a simple remote control, similar to those twentieth century earth people used to turn on their televisions.

He got the urge to giggle at the simple sign in front of them. It read, 'PRISONER

CONTROL DEVICES'. What a lame description for something of their caliber. he thought.

He brought a small hand-held laser cutter out from under his cloak and proceeded to cut open the display case. Now, he thought as he worked, the long wait has ended.

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Chapter One

THE RETURN

"Tya!" screamed Flink Plexaha as he bolted up in bed.

Wild eyed, he looked around the room. Dim light leaked through loosely woven cloths, that were used as window shades, giving a hazy view of the room. The walls, from what he could make out, were bare, except for a single row of shelves filled with clay bowls, cups and jars on the far right and an empty stone fireplace on the left. In the center of the room was a table, but he couldn't make out what was on top of it.

Then, a few moments later, with a sigh of relief, he realized he was sitting in his own bed safe in his cabin. It had all been a bad dream, a dream he'd had countless times. Yet, with this realization came the fact that the events depicted in the dream were undeniably real. Then the true agony began, because he knew she was truly lost to him. Tya was dead.

Every time he thought he was coming to terms with the memory of her loss he'd have another one of these damned nightmares and the pain would come back. Even after a hundred years of trying he still hadn't been able free himself of the pain of her death.

A hundred years was nothing to a Vevettan. Thanks to the fact that he was in the cycle of Vevettan life that was called the Slowing, which meant that every cell in his body was constantly regenerating, he could look forward to at least another couple of thousand

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years of trying to purge himself of his guilt and anguish.

"Had another nightmare, Master?" asked Flink's three inch tall, barrel-shaped, robot companion from the table.

"Yeah." he said, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "Wanna finish the game, Rifc?" he asked, though he knew his heart really wasn't in it. He figured,though, a game of chess might help him clear his mind.

"Whose move?" came the chirpy reply.

"I don't remember. You go first." Flink said as he crawled out of bed, which was made up of criss-crossing ropes tied to a wooden frame. Slipping his feet into a pair of thongs on his way out of bed, he dragged himself over to the table.

Sitting down in the creaky, old, chair, Flink took a small metal box out of his pocket. Taking out a wooden match and striking it on the side of the box, he lit a candle sitting on top of the table. The light illuminated the chess board built into the table top.

On the board was a set of hand-carved chess pieces. From the positions and even number of opposing pieces that sat discarded to either side of the board, it appeared that Flink and Rifc were well matched. From past experience they both knew the outcome would be either a close win or a draw.

Rifc wobbled, on his block-like feet, across the board to one of his pawns. Extracting two thin metal arms from his sides, and using the three claw-like fingers at the ends, he grabbed the pawn and moved it two spaces to the left. "Your move, Master."

Flink quickly moved one of his pawns. His mind really wasn't on what he was doing. The afterimage of Tya's dead form was still clear in his mind.

"Your game is off, Master." Rifc told him. "Your

Queen is in jeopardy."

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He looked at Rifc like he didn't know what he meant. "Worry about your own pieces." he said, a touch of annoyance in his tone.

The two light globe eyes in the transparent blue dome Rifc called a head pulsed intensely.

Two moves later one of Rifc knights took Flink's Queen. "I tried to warn you, Master."

"I know, and I'm sorry, Rifc." Flink said, leaning forward and resting his head on his hands. "Maybe we should continue this later, when I've got my head on straight."

The tiny robot didn't respond. Flink looked up and noticed that Rifc's eye-globes had started to glow noticeably brighter again. "What is it, Rifc?" Flink asked.

"I detect a skysled approaching, Master."

"It could just be a fly over." he said dismissively.

"Negative, Master." Rifc said. "The ship's trajectory indicates that it is in a decent pattern."

"How long till arrival?" Flink asked, getting up from the chair.

"It will arrive here in two point five minutes."

"Then I guess we should get ready for unwanted guests." he said. Then, looking down at the chess board he took his king and laid it on it's side. Let's see what new game this unwanted visitor has in store for me. he thought, as he headed for the door.

Flink stood outside his cabin waiting for the skysled to come into view. The sky still bore a trace of crimson from the rising of Vevetta II's twin suns Brith and Somat. Finally, he caught his first glimpse of the craft, a mere dot framed by the tenuous vines of the Kyo trees at the other end of the meadow.

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As the ship came into range, he was surprised to see that the craft was the same design as the last one he'd seen a hundred years ago. It was still bullet shaped with two small fin-like projections two either side below and one large one on top. It also had four small anti-gravity unites underneath, and twin thrusters in the back. What else would you expect from a people who dislike change. he thought.

When the skysled was straight over head, it went into hover mode. The thunder of the thrusters died and was proceeded by the humming of the anti-gravity unites. The skysled lowered into the meadow with a smooth, floating, motion. As it came down three claw-like landing gear lowered from open hatches below and locked into place.

Flink walked up to the skysled as it landed. He caught the breeze from the disturbed air around the ship. He also caught, to his dislike, the putrid odor of thruster exhaust. He stifled a cough, for fear of letting more of the noxious fumes into his, now burning, lungs.

A few moments later, he watched as, with a humming sound, the hatch facing him opened. The hatch door was made of two halves, one half went up and the other came down to make steps. The hatch opening was small, so the crew had to stoop to get through. Flink was surprised that that quirk in the design hadn't been corrected by now.

He wasn't surprised when he saw that the two men who came out of the skysled wore the burgundy,

with gray trim, robes of the Council of Space/Time Research, or S.T.R. for short. The one Flink instantly spotted as the leader was lanky, with flowing golden blond hair that was tied in the back with a silver string. In his hand he carried a small palm-sized silver box. Flink could tell the type of person he was dealing with from the look of bloated

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self-importance he wore on his perfectly sculptured face. His companion, who walked a pace behind him, was brawny, with heavily curled red hair and jovial features. Flink saw him as the type that would do all the physical work while his companion did all the thinking. Even on a highly advanced world like Vevetta II, Flink thought, the self-important types always have to have their pet muscles.

The leader walked up to him and raised his arms in an open handed gesture. "May the twin lights be upon you forever." the leader said in the customary greeting. "I am Councilor third Level Thyo Armagon. This is my assistant Subcouncilor fifth Level Yom Packart." He indicated his heavy built companion. His companion silently gave the open handed gesture and nodded his head.

Flink ignored the greetings and stood with his arms crossed. "State your business." he said flatly.

"Flink Plexaha," Thyo said, his voice a controlled monotone that did little to hide the anger he felt over Flink's lack of curtesy, "you are hereby given notice that, in accordance with the section of the Articles of the S.T.R. dealing with emergency reactivations, on this date your commission has been restored and you are hereby ordered to return with us immediately and present yourself before the S.T.R.Council."

"Did the Council give you the reason for my being drafted?"

"No sir. But we've been given the option of using force, if we have to, to get you to follow orders." Thyo said, looking over at his muscular companion, who smiled in return.

"I've done my duty." Flink said, spitting out the words. "All I want is to be left alone."

"Well, it appears the Council has other plans."

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"Under whose authorization is this order given?" Flink asked in an authoritative tone.

Thyo handed him the silver box, which turned

out to be a small visual recording device. It showed a copy of the order. At the bottom of the order was a name.

"Zareth Metk,...the President of the Council!" Flink said aloud. Now he knew something was up. "What's going on here?"

"I have no knowledge nor concern other than getting you back to Khiba Quar with the utmost speed." And you probably wouldn't tell me anyway. Flink thought.

"I've got to get some things before we leave. They might be of some use."

"The order said immediately." Thyo said.

"I refuse to go into an unknown situation without the proper equipment." Flink shot back at him.

"Make it quick." Thyo ordered.

Let's not pull the reigns too tightly, my friend, or the horse might buck. Flink thought as he headed for the cabin.

Once inside, Flink headed straight for the bed. Under it, visible through the criss-crossing rope mattress, he pulled out a battered looking suitcase.

Opening the suitcase, he looked at the assortment of devices inside. He quickly checked through them to make sure they were all there. He had dozens of medical, repair, and detection devices from all over the known universe, which he'd picked up during jaunts to other planets.

Satisfied that all the devices were in their proper places, Flink closed the case and headed to the table to get Rifc.

"What is going on, Master?" Rifc said, with a

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puzzled chirp.

"We're going on a little trip." he said, with little enthusiasm. Grabbing Rifc, he put him in the pocket of his ragged looking brown paint splatter design white shirt and headed for the cabin door.

Stopping at the coat rack by the door he put on a fur coat. The coat was made from the pelt of a predator called a krent, which resembled a mix between an Earth boar and a grizzly bear. He'd made it for the upcoming winter. I'll definitely need it. he thought, preparing for the cold reception he knew he was going to get outside.

Grabbing the suitcase from where he'd set it on the floor he strode out the door. "Let's get this over

with." he said, unenthusiastically.

Thyo and Yom were waiting by the skysled, impatience showing on their faces. Thyo was leaning against the Skysled rhythmically tapping on its hull. Yom was standing beside him, twirling the chain of his family-clan medallion around his finger.

"Took you long enough." Thyo said, annoyedly. "The Council can't wait for you forever.....and what, the Creator, are you dressed up for."

Flink ignored him and headed for the skysled.

Yom ushered Flink into the skysled, making sure he got in with the utmost swiftness. Thyo followed, with a shake of his head and a huff, as he took one last look at Flink's weathered looking cabin.

"Back to civilization we go." he muttered, looking at Flink with a smirky smile creasing his face.

After stowing Flink's suitcase in a small storage bin, Yom seated him in the thrusterseat directly behind the pilot's seat. The skysled was cramped, even with

seating for four.

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Yom seated himself in the front seat on the opposite side from Flink and buckled himself in. He turned to Flink and said, "Better buckle yourself in or you'll wind up plastered to the bulkhead."

"What happened to the internal gravity nullifiers, I thought they were standard on these skysleds?"

"They were found to be too much of a waste of power. Buckled up, please."

Flink was really starting to get tired of the treatment he was getting, but he was smart enough not to make waves. He buckled his shoulder, waist, and chest straps without a word.

Thyo got in the pilot seat and, after buckling himself in and putting on his cerebral control helmet, looked over at Yom. "I wonder what use this guy's gonna be to the Council?" he said, indicating Flink with a wave of his hand.

"Beats me, I don't question the President's orders, even these."

Flink disliked being talked about like he wasn't around. "Maybe she needs someone who's willing to ask questions." he said sarcastically.

This had the desired affect. With a huff, Flink's escorts stopped talking and went back to work.

Flink felt a slight vibration as Thyo started the anti-gravity unites. He felt his stomach fall as the ship lifted from the ground. It was at that moment that he wished the ship had an internal gravity nullifier.

Yom smirked when he glanced back and saw Flink's discomfort. Flink could only hope that both Yom and Thyo were feeling the same way.

Flink looked out the side view port and took one last look at the old cabin, meadow, and encircling Kyo trees that had been his retreat for the past hundred

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years. No, not a retreat, he thought, more like a personal prison.

Then he felt the crushing hold of G force push him into his thrusterseat, as Thyo engaged the thrusters and sent them shooting across the sky toward the city of Khiba Quar, and Flink's destiny.

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Chapter Two

THE HALL OF THE HONORED

Flink was surprised how short the trip in the skysled was taking. It had been less than an hour ago that he'd said his goodbyes to the unstructured beauty of the wilderness. Now he could see the high towers of Khiba Quar from behind the Ibris mountains, fifty miles away.

All during the trip he had sat pondering what kind of trouble would prompt the Council to send for him. The only thing he came up with was that it had to have something to do with what happened a hundred years ago, the incident that caused Tya's death. But he couldn't see how, since the person responsible for the incident, Warliam Nathbak, had been sentenced to spend the rest of his life in a remote work camp in the Tkarta desert.

The thought of Warliam caused a chill to run through Flink. What a tangled tapestry fate can be. he thought, remembering the years of friendship he'd had with Warliam. All the special moments came back to him. But they were easily crushed into insignificance by the thought of a single blast from a rifle.

"How long till we reach Khiba Quar?" he asked, not really interest in the answer, but needing to free himself from his remembrances.

"We'll make city-fall in ten minutes." Thyo said. "Why, you getting anxious to find out why you were taken from your cozy little hovel?"

Flink shook his head in frustration, looked out

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the view port, and was shocked by his reflection. The person looking back at him was a stranger. Now he could almost understand Thyo and Yom's reaction to him. His time away from civilization had taken it's toll. His usual short trimmed hair was now a disarranged heap, hanging down his back. His clean shaved jaw now sported a shaggy beard. His once alert, strong, eyes now looked tired and had bags under them. Oh, the Creator, he thought, I look so old and worn out.

Thankfully, a moment later the skysled flew over the Ibris mountains and Flink's view was filled with the sight of Vevetta II's capital city. He'd forgotten how massive Khiba Quar was, it's boundary stretching across the horizon. It's towers rising so high the tops of them were hidden by the clouds above. The travel tubes of the mass transit system intertwining around the towers like vines in a jungle.

As the skysled moved in closer Flink could see masses of hover craft and skysleds flying between the towers and over smaller buildings below. They reminded him of flying insects.

Maneuvering the skysled into the stream of traffic, Thyo set course for the Eastern part of city. After a few minutes, the skysled approached its destination, the Headquarters for Space/Time Research. The building was small in comparison to the other buildings surrounding it, a mere two hundred stories tall.But Flink knew that the majority of the complex was underground. It's funny, Flink thought, looking at the elliptical shaped building, that this insignificant building is the center for the research and compilation of the histories of all the planets of the known universe.

Thyo flew the skysled around the building to a small hanger on the far side. "Welcome home." he said, with false sentiment.

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Flink ignored him. He knew in a short time he wouldn't have to listen to his mouth. What he had to concentrate on now was what was to come next, the S.T.R. Council.

The skysled slowed down, glided into the hanger, and landed on a large red hexagon painted on the floor. A series of large overhead spotlights illuminated the skysled from above. Technicians scurried like rats out of the shadows and began connecting power cabled to the ship.

Thyo opened the hatch and Flink stepped out, suitcase in hand. Outside, he was greeted by another robed council member, but this time it was a pleasant surprise.

"Kren," he said, with a warm smile, "Kren Sephran.....I haven't seen you since Tya and I came back from Earth. How've you been? How'd your mission to Thrackuron go?"

"Not as well as you and Warliam did on your missions to Earth. I nearly got myself skinned." said the thin, smiley-faced, older looking gentleman before him.

Older looking, Flink recalled, because of a genetic malfunction that caused Kren to start the Slowing much later, about twenty-five years later, than was normal for a Vevettan.

Looking at Kren's long, straight, nose and high cheek bones Flink was always reminded of a joker in a deck of terran playing cards.

"How'd you know I was coming in?" asked Flink, still surprised to see his old friend.

"I'm here to take you to the council chambers." he said, his smile diminishing when he saw the betrayed look on Flink's face.

"You.....all right Kren, what the hell's going on?

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Why the hell did the council send those guerrillas after me?"

As if on cue, Thyo and Yom came out of the ship. They pushed past Flink and his friend. "The President's got a real winner with this one." Thyo said sarcastically to Kren, as he and Yom headed out of the hanger.

Flink shook his head as he watch them leave. Definitely compensating for a lack of something. He thought. Then he turned back to Kren. "Well," he said, "When am I gonna get some answers?"

"You're not gonna get them here, Flink." Kren said, uncharacteristically serious. "You'll have to make your inquiries to the Council when we get there."

"Fine." he said, in frustration. Handing his suitcase to Kren, he started off toward the exit. Kren followed closely behind him.

Flink was surprised how little the Space/Time Research headquarters had changed since the last time he'd been here. He did notice though, as he and Kren walked through the various halls on the way, that they'd added some new exhibits from planets that had been in the process of being researched when he started his hermitage. One of the displays was of torture devices from the planet Kren had been assigned to, Thrackuron.

Then, to Flink's surprise, they entered a large display hall filled with items from his missions to Earth.

"The items you brought from Earth has been

the most popular and longest running displays S.T.R. has ever had." Kren told him, as if reading his mind. "I have to admit I'm a bit jealous."

"Well, I didn't come close to losing my skin over them." Flink said, reminding Kren of his own

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contribution.

"But you can't blame me for being a tad jealous." Kren said, turning to Flink and smiling.

With that, they headed out of the display, turned a corner, and came to a lift pad. After they stepped onto it, Kren touched the foot control and the lift descended.

Flink felt a touch of claustrophobia as the lift shot down the shaft deeper and deeper under Vevetta II's surface. He'd always wondered why the council chambers where two miles underground. It seemed ridiculous since there was no need for security since the council meetings were open to everyone. It also seemed dangerous , since there was a remote possibility of the roof caving in, though this was close to impossible with their present construction technology. Still, underground would be the last place he'd want to be if something happened above.

Then the lift came to a halt, and Flink's mind changed gears. It was not for the better.

A chill came over him, when he saw the gold colored sign on the entryway before him. It read HALL OF THE HONORED. Of all the ways Kren could have taken him to the council chambers he'd had to choose the way that took them through the Hall of the Honored.

He'd heard, before he'd left to start his hermitage, that the S.T.R. had decided to honor Tya's memory with the ultimate honor a council member could achieve, to be immortalized with a synthetic reproduction displayed in the Hall of the Honored. He knew that these where not merely waxwork reproductions, but that these representations where programmed with the memory patterns of the person they were patterned after. This was so scholars could learn about these famous persons lives from their own perspecti

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For Flink this was an added agony. Not only was there the possibility that he might run into what would be essentially to him Tya's reanimated corpse, it was also possible that this thing would remember him

and want to chat. He wasn't sure if his damaged psyche could handle that.

Kren noticed his unease. "You all right, would you like to talk about it?"

"It's nothing." he said, not really meaning it. It was something. It was like walking to your own execution. He wanted to get it over with, yet part of him wanted to hold off just a little longer. He started walking uncertainly towards the entryway.

Inside, Flink's pace quickened. He tried to ignore the synthetic representations standing on pedestals on either side of him. Kren walked a pace behind him, trying to keep up. "You really are in a hurry to get to the council chambers."

Flink ignored him.

He tried to keep his eyes focused on the path through the hall, avoiding looking to either side lest he get the urge to look at the figures to either side of him. He knew he wouldn't be able to bear seeing her face again. He'd thought he'd go mad after she was murdered. The guilt he still felt burned in him like a hot poker.

If only he hadn't tried to be the big hero. If he'd let the security people do their job, she'd still be here to see the exhibit of the things they brought back from Earth. He had been a fool; a self endangering, over dramatic, egotistical fool. And it cost him the most precious thing in his life.

As Flink neared the end of the hall, his eyes, as if having wills of their own locked on the pedestal to his right. There she was, standing before him looking down 22

with a smile on her face. It was the same raven hair. It was the same aquiline features. The same slender form. It was Tya.

Flink was paralyzed. He was rooted to the spot, like his feet were stuck in cement. All he could do is stare at her. He wanted to scream at Kren to drag him away, but he was mute.

Then the figure spoke. "Hello. My name is Tya Yivata. Do you have any questions to asked me? I would be happy to tell you anything you wish to know."

He fumbled for words. "Hello, Tya." was all he could get out.

"Hello, sir. " the representation said politely. "Have you any questions?"

It was then that Flink came to his senses. This thing wasn't Tya. It was some grotesque puppet, a pathetic caricature of the woman he loved.

Anger flare in him. How could the S.T.R. think this travesty was a fitting memorial. He wanted to rip the synthetic impostor apart.

Then Kren came up to him. "Flink," he said, "Flink you all right? You want me to help you out of here?"

"I'm fine, Kren." Flink said. Surprisingly enough he meant it. The figure before him had lost its power over him.

He looked down and saw that there was an inscription on the pedestal. He began to read:

TYA YIVATA

YAC 100018690312 YAC 100018691343

DIED DOING HER DUTY

"Died doing her duty." Flink said out loud.

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"What a crock." Duty had nothing to do with it, he thought, she was just trying to save my sorry ass again. She shouldn't have ran out of the crowd.

"Let's go, Flink, this isn't doing you or the council any good."

Flink didn't give him any argument. He headed to the doorway at the other end of the hall. From there his next stop was the council chamber.

Then, he thought, then I'll get my answers.

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Chapter Three

THE MISSION

None of the people in attendance in the oval council chamber noticed when either Kren or Flink entered. All of them had their attention focused on the presentation being shown in the center of the chamber. Flink stopped in his tracks when he saw the holographic image. Kren bumped into him in the process.

Before them was a holographic recreation of the incident a hundred years before. It showed Warliam Nathbak, Flink's oldest friend, holding the Council hostage in the chamber with a blaster rifle. Laying to the far side of the image were the images of two security guards with gaping blast holes through them. Warliam stood in the center of the chamber waving the blaster around at the council members, making accusations and demands.

"You forced me into this. Why wouldn't you do anything?" he yelled, looking around at the council members with loathing. "There's only one answer, we must save our own people. There's no way we can be sure of our own survival as long as the people of Earth are still a threat!"

To Flink, it was like reenacting his worst nightmare. As he watched, he found himself reliving the thoughts and feelings he experienced as he watched his friend wave the long barrel of the blaster rifle at him and the other people in the council chamber. Though, this time he knew the outcome. This time he knew he wasn't 25

going to be the hero, but the loser. He knew his actions would end one life and ruin two others. He wished to he could change what he was about to see.

As Flink watched, out of the crowd came the image of himself. Ignoring Warliam's threats his image walked right up to Warliam. Warliam pointed the blaster at him. "Don't be mistaken in thinking I would hesitate to kill even you, if the situation arose."

"I don't believe you, Warliam." he said, taking another step forward. "You're trying to save lives, you won't kill anyone."

"I will, Flink." he said, motioning him away with the rifle. "I'll destroy anyone who tries to stop me from saving our people."

"Don't you understand, Warliam, this isn't the way."

"I've tried everything else. They won't listen. If I wait for them it'll be too late."

"Warliam, think about this situation rationally, by your own actions you're sabotaging what you're trying to get done." Flink motioned at the other council members. "You think they're going to listen to anything you have to say now? I don't think so. To them you're just a terrorist, no different than the ones you studied on Earth, trying to force your own way on them.

Oh, in the end, they might tell you what you want to hear, if you're not killed first. But then, when the shock's worn off, and you're out of the picture, they'll do things their own way."

"You're the one who doesn't understand. I'm not letting them go until I have proof everything's been carried out."

"You won't last that long, damn it." Flink stressed. "Sooner or later security'll come in here after you and....."

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"Damn it, Flink, I've had enough of your debating." he said, aiming the rifle between Flink's eyes. "Either you get the fuck over with the others or, so help the Creator, I'll kill you."

With that, Flink hit the rifle barrel with a cross stroke of his right hand. The blaster went off, searing his left shoulder in the process. The impact of the blast knocked him to the floor.

While watching the presentation, Flink's right hand, on reflex, went to his shoulder, where the scar from the blast still remained. Flink wondered why he'd never thought of having it cosmetically regenerated. Maybe, he thought, it was because it would be like trying to pretend the incident never happened, which is impossible.

In the holographic image, Warliam stood over Flink, startled by what had happened.

Flink's assistant, Tya Yivata, came running out

of the crowd toward Warliam and Flink.

"No Tya!" screamed Flink, when he saw her.

Warliam spun around and shot her. Shock registered on his face when he realized what he had done. He dropped the rifle on the floor.

"No!" Flink screamed, when he saw her body crumble to the floor.

Watching the holographic images, Flink wanted to scream with his image. All the pain he had felt at that moment a hundred years ago came rushing back in on him again.

The air in the chamber was stifling hot to him now. He felt like his lungs were going to lock at any moment. He wanted to get away, but found himself unable to move.

In the image he'd managed to get up, using his good arm, and stumbled over to Tya. Kneeling down beside her, unaware of the chaos that had broke out around him, he

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cradled her, with his good arm. Then he began to scream.

The holographic image vanished, leaving only the empty central floor area in its wake.

Sound of people releasing their breath was heard around the oval chamber. Flink took his cue from the others and let out his as well.

"You all right, Flink?" asked Kren, looking over at him. "You look like death warmed over."

He looked over at Kren gave an indication of a smile. What an apt observation. he thought, because that was exactly how he felt. Not only had he had to face a synthetic representation of the woman whose death he blames himself for, but now he had to relive the experience of seeing her die. It was no wonder he looked the way he did.

"Flink Plexaha." came a female voice from the other end of the chamber.

Flink looked to where the voice came from and saw that the President of the Council had noticed him.

Zareth Metk was still as beautiful as he remembered. From her short cut honey-blond hair, which was only just showing an indication of gray, and her piercing green eyes, to her athletically sleek figure, which was not completely hidden under her robes of office, she was still the most enchanting woman he'd ever had the privilege of knowing.

Flink didn't have to remind himself that along with her beauty was strength. Zareth Metk was the driving force of the S.T.R.

And now her attention was on him.

Suddenly all eyes in the council chamber were focused on him. "If you wouldn't mind, Madam President," he said, with respect, " I would prefer that my name not be used

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in association with these proceedings. I feel I've given the Clan Plexaha enough grief."

"So be it." Zareth Metk said. "How may we address you then?"

Flink thought for a moment. "I suggest we use the nickname you, Madam President, gave me when I first returned from Earth, The Traveler."

"I approve." The President of the Council said, barely able to conceal her amusement. "So be it." She turned to her computer record keeping device, " The name of Flink Plexaha is to be erased from the record of these proceedings and ' The Traveler' is herein to be put in it's place. Also The Traveler is to be masked out of all visual records and his voice pattern altered on the record."

The computer acknowledged her orders.

"Thank you, Madam President." the newly dubbed Traveler said, as he and Kren walked down the aisle to the central floor of the chamber. "Why've you called me here?"

"It's to do with Warliam Nathbak."

"I've already worked that out, Madam President, why not get to the point."

"All right, Traveler, we'll make this as quick as possible. You'll need time to clean up and get ready for this mission."

"Mission....what the hell are you talking about?"

"Seven days ago Warliam escaped from the work camp we had him incarcerated in."

"How the hell could that happen. The place is like a fortress. What about security?"

"The Security Council is checking into that." The President informed him.

"Well, then let them clean up this mess. The camp's in the Tkarta desert. It's a

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weeks walk to the nearest water source. He should be easy to find out there. I don't see why you dragged me back here."

"Because Warliam isn't walking the desert. From what the Security Council was able to determine so far, he hid on the weekly supply tram that delivers food and water to the camp." the President said, anxiety in her voice. "Two days ago, he, somehow, got into the display halls in this building and accosted the Guardian of the Halls. He stole two of the displays."

"What displays?" The Traveler asked. He knew Warliam would not chance getting caught if it wasn't something important.

"The prisoner control devices from the planet Centura."

"You're telling me you had operational Centuran mind control devices on display." The Traveler said, amazed.

"We keep them on hand for the Department of Engineering and Technological Research."

"Do you realize what those devices can do in the wrong hands." The Traveler said unable to hold down his outrage.

"We considered them primitive technology, of no significance to our civilization other than as a subject for study." said the President.

The Traveler was surprised at how incredibly nieve he found his people at this moment. The idea of them leaving dangerous instruments out for public view was to him criminal in the extreme.

"Things are worse." The Traveler heard Kren say and turned to him. "He also stoled one of our orbital probe ships......."

"And he's heading to Earth, in the past I would guess." The Traveler finished for him. From the look he got from Kren he knew he was right. "He going to try to

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change that planet's history to avert the Monopolis' eventual conquest of Vevetta." He turned back to the President. " And you think I've got some clue as to what he's planning?"

"You were closer to him than the rest of us." The President pointed out.

"I was against the alteration of the time line." The Traveler countered her. " I figured it would cause more problems than it would solve."

"Still he must have mentioned something to you........some of his ideas." the President pressed.

"He knew I wouldn't approve, so he didn't talk to me about it." The Traveler told her. "Do you have

any idea what time period he's gone to? That might give me something to go on."

"We were able to trace him to the late twentieth century, to be exact, the year 1993." explained Kren.

"Do you have a location to go with that?"

"The part of North America known as California, in an area known as the 'Bay Area'. It's a town called San Mareno." said the President.

"Do you know when he's going to arrive?"

"We can roughly estimate within a week." Kren explained, putting his hand on the Traveler's shoulder. "That's the best we can do, he didn't leave much of a trace."

"He could do anything in that amount of time. That makes things that much harder." The Traveler said. "When does the team leave?"

"There isn't going to be a team." The President told him.

"What?"

"We figured you alone would have a better chance than a large team would." said the President.

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"And how's that?" The Traveler said astonished.

"Just look at the facts." said the President. "He's been your friend since your academy days. You co-worked with him on the Earth research project. Damn it, man, you played chess with the man every chance you got. You even started beating him at it. That tells me you have to know something about how he thinks!"

"I see your point. But you're forgetting something. I have too much of a personal

involvement in this situation." The Traveler pointed out. "As you said he was my friend."

"We took that into consideration." The President said.

"Did you take into consideration that he killed Tya?" The Traveler mentioned. " Or have you forgotten your little show a few minutes ago."

"Are you suggesting you might lose your objectivity and take revenge on him." The

President asked, visibly surprised.

"I'm suggesting it might cloud my thinking, cause me to misjudge situations. It could cost me the mission. There's too much at stake for you risk the future of an entire race on me." The Traveler looked the President straight in the eyes. " I don't need that burden on top of the one I already carry."

"Then you automatically sentence the people of Earth." The President said grimly.

"Are you trying to say that if I don't go nobody will?"

"Correct, unfortunately."

"I can't believe this!" The Traveler exclaimed. "Why?"

"Because I'm not going to waste resources on a large team when a single man could do the job a hundred times better." she said. "There isn't a person

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among us that knows a tenth what you do about Earth."

"But I only studied Earth up to the early twentieth century, Warliam studied the periods after. The information I got about the later twentieth century I got from Warliam. Even that is scraps compared to what I'd need to go after him."

"I can help you in that capacity, Master." came the chirpy reply from the pocket of TheTraveler's paint splattered shirt.

"What was that?" Kren asked, startled, looking where the voice came from.

"Sorry if he startled you. May I introduce my Robotic Information and Formulation

Computer, Rifc for short."

The Traveler took the small, barrel-shaped, robot out of his pocket. "Good morning, ladies and gentlemen." said Rifc.

"What does it do?" asked Kren, looking down at Rifc's blue domed head and glowing globe eyes.

"As his name says, he can process information and store it like a regular computer. He can also formulate theories and calculate possible actions. Also, he has the mobility and dexterity of robots a hundred times his size."

"Where did you get it, or did you make it when you were out in the wilderness?" asked Kren.

"Tya and I constructed him before the incident in the council chamber. We thought he might be useful when we returned to Earth. Since then, he's been my companion during my hermitage."

"You see, Traveler," The President said, "you've no excuse for not going on the mission now. With that computer with you there's little chance of you making any misjudgments. As for not having enough information about the time, he can gather the

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information you need."

"You're not going to let me out of this, are you?" The Traveler said, frustrated. "All right, damn you, all right, I'll go on your damned mission. May the Creator damn you for what you're making me do."

Having said that, The Traveler stormed up the aisle and out of the chamber.

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Chapter Four

THE PHOENIX

Kren had decided to give The Traveler a little time to recover after the incident in the council chamber, so he waited until evening to get a location fix. He found out that The Traveler had gone to Overbase, the spiderweb-like orbital complex that covers the outer atmosphere of Vevetta II, to prepare his ship for the journey to Earth.

After taking the next flight to Overbase, Kren headed to the hanger the master computer at the S.T.R. building indicated belonged to The Traveler. It didn't surprise him when he got there that he had to press the announcer six times before he got a response. "Why the hell can't you people leave me alone!"

"Flink, this isn't council business. I wanted to...."

"I said I was to be called 'Traveler' until this is over!"

"All right.....Traveler, can't you let me in." he said, exasperated. "Why let this situation come between our friendship."

After a few moments the hatch opened with a soft humming sound. Kren walked in, letting out a breath when he saw The Traveler. Kren had figured The Traveler would have cleaned up since he'd last seen him in the council chambers but his appearance still was startling. This wasn't the same man he met in the hangar at the S.T.R building that morning, he looked like a new man. He wore a burgundy council robe, curiously without his family-clan medallion. He had cut off his

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beard, but had left his sideburns long. His hair was combed back, the curls chopped just above his shoulders. The only thing that reminded him that this was the same man was the baggy, haunted, look in his eyes. If it wasn't for that and the fact that he'd gained a bit of weight, Kren could almost imagine that the last hundred years hadn't happened.

"What is it, Kren?" said The Traveler irritably,

as he headed over to a nearby table where he'd sat the suitcase he'd brought from the wilderness. "I'm really much too busy to chit chat."

"I thought you might need some help......" he began, but his eyes focused on the ship that was parked just beyond The Traveler. "Oh, the Creator!" The ship was the only interesting thing in the bare hangar. Kren looked over the large, rectangular, vehicle, with its round, Earth-type tires and suspension system. It bore no resemblance to any Vevettan research ship Kren had ever seen.

Then it came to him, he'd seen vehicles of a similar type while scanning through some later-twentieth century video transmissions. He believed the announcers had called them 'RVs or recreational vehicles.

"Where'd you get that?" Kren asked, looking over at The Traveler.

The Traveler looked up from the suitcase , from which he was pulling out a number of small hand-held devices, and glanced over his shoulder at the ship. "The Phoenix?" he looked over at Kren. "Tya and I built her after we returned from Earth."

"Interesting, but why?" Kren asked, taking another look at the ship. "All our research craft have cloaking shields to prevent detection. Why go to all the trouble?"

"The Phoenix is equipted with cloaking shields

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too. But this way I don't have to leave the ship in a secluded location, thus it saves me the time and effort of having to go a long distance to process and store information. I can enter the ship in plain view of the inhabitants and no one's the wiser."

"But didn't you build Rifc to store and process data in the field?" Kren pointed out.

"But you're forgetting Rifc's a small computer. He still has to store much of his information in the ship's data storage unite, through a transmission beam. This might not always be possible." He paused for a moment and turned to look at the ship. "And with the Phoenix I'll be able to keep all my equipment nearby, in case I need them."

He turned to Kren and added, "Isn't that what our old instructors stressed for us to do, be ready for any possible contingency."

"But if I recall, weren't the recreational vehicles

a fad that didn't last past the early twenty first century, when the hover craft became the common mode of transport?"

"Oh, yes.........and they're called mobile homes, by the way." The Traveler corrected him. "But, both vehicles are similar in their basic body configuration." A mischievous gleam in his eyes. "What you probably didn't read in your research is that many owners had their mobile homes converted into hover craft."

"Oh." Kren said, visibly embarrassed by his lack of knowledge.

"Actually, with her wheels retracted and a minimum of alterations, that I can do in a matter of minutes, the Phoenix can be made to look like a standard hover craft."

"Impressive." Kren said, nodding.

"Remember, " The Traveler said, tapping the side

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of his nose, " be prepared."

It was obvious to Kren that The Traveler seemed more relaxed now. He felt quite at ease asking more about the ship. "When'd you get the idea? I mean, was it when you were still studying the early twentieth century, or when?"

The Traveler picked up a cylindrical device out of the suitcase and studied it absently. "Actually, she was Tya's idea. She talked to me about it a little while before we came back. I was just the one who did the design work."

"She's quite an achievement." Kren said, looking over at the Phoenix again. “You were always the one with the creative edge."

"Yeah, well, it didn't help me a hundred years ago. If I'd used a little more creative persuasion Tya might be here today."

"Damn it, man," Kren said, "I understand you're still feeling pain over Tya's death, but you've got to put it out of your mind if you're gonna be of any use on this mission."

"Don't you think I know that. I've been trying for the past hundred years to get rid of it. It just won't go away." he said, turning away from Kren.

"It's not that it won't go away. " Kren said, grabbing him by the shoulder and turning him to face him, "It's that you won't let it go. That's been the problem from the start."

"You think I like having Tya's death on my conscience?" he said, slapping Kren's hand away. "Do you think I like replaying that incident in my head, trying to find another method other than trying to knock that damned rifle out of Warliam's hand and getting shot. Don't you realize that I know if I hadn't tried to be a hero she'd be alive today."

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"Thinking on your feet isn't easy." Kren said. You're bound to make decisions that may seem wrong now, but at the time were the only answer. You can drive yourself mad thinking of different variations of the incident that would have ended better, but that doesn't matter. The dice have been thrown." He put his hand on the Traveler's shoulder. "What matters is the present. Use the past as a lesson. Let it temper your judgment, but don't let it rule it. Maybe this time you'll make the right decisions. You won't know till you role the dice.”

"Now you're starting to sound like one of those old instructors." he said. "Or someone I'd hate to play dice with." The beginnings of a smile creased his face.

"Some of those old fossils did make some sense." Kren said tapping his nose.

Kren saw that his friend was considering what he'd said. He only hoped he'd get rid of some of his demons while he was on Earth. Kren wanted his friend, Flink Plexaha, back, not this damaged soul who called himself The Traveler.

"We'll see." The Traveler said, as he went back to work.

Kren and The Traveler worked silently for a few hours on the equipment in the suitcase. Much of it was new to Kren, but he managed to check and calibrate several of them without a problem.

He wondered how his friend got many of the devices, many of them weren't of Vevettan design, and the only planet he knew his friend had done a research mission on was Earth. He had the urge to ask The Traveler about the devices, but was reluctant remembering what happened when they talked about the ship.

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“What information has Rifc come up with on 1993?" Kren asked. The silence was starting to get to him.

"Nothing helpful." The Traveler said, continuing to clean. "It isn't really an important year. Nothing happens that could remotely help Warliam's cause.”

"But there has to be some reason why he chose that year."

"If there is I'm not seeing it.” The Traveler admitted, in frustration. “It'll be decades before the next world war begins."

"With Warliam in the picture that might be an overestimation." Kren said, his expression serious. “So how does the war begin? Maybe that'll give us a clue.”

“I thought you studied this?” The Traveler said, giving him a surprised look.

“I'm not much into wars.” Kren admitted.

"The events leading up to the war begin when there's a joining together of the Arab Nations under a single leader, a real fanatic, who sees himself as some sort of a new Napoleon or Hitler."

"Oh the Creator, you would think, given the history of that planet, these people would see this coming and nip it at the bud." Kren said, shaking his head.

"They do try, but politics gets in the way. Many of the nations avoid taking the initiative because they don't want to risk their fellows thinking of them as war mongers. Even the United States, because of the way the United Nations regard any direct actions by them, find their hands tied." The Traveler closed his eyes. "The loss of lives and the damage to the planet caused by their inaction will be staggering."

"Have you got any theory about why Warliam chose to land in the California Bay Area?" Kren asked,

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wanting change the subject.

"Well, the only thing I can figure is that the city of San Mareno is near to a major

technological center."

"Which technological center?"

"Does the Silicon Valley ring a bell?" The Traveler said, surprised by Kren's naiveté‚.

"Yeah, but wasn't that just a center for computer technology?"

"Oh Creator, are you out of touch." The Traveler said, shaking his head.

"What can I say, Earth isn't exactly my forte." Kren said, now annoyed. "What am I missing?"

"There was a lot of work being done in the Silicon

Valley on satellite and weapons technology."

"That doesn't give you much to work with."

"You're telling me." The Traveler said. "Hopefully, I'll be able to get a better idea once I get a lock on his position."

"Let's just hope he's not waiting for you when you get there."

"I figure he'll be expecting someone, he's not stupid."

"And what about the Centuran mind control devices?" Kren asked. "How are you gonna protect yourself against that?"

"I went to the archives earlier today and got the specs for a small device the guards on Centura used to counteract the affects of the devices." The Traveler pointed to the back of his neck. "I injected the device under the skin here. I'm sure Warliam has a similar implant. He wouldn't be fooling with those mind control devices without first doing his homework."

The Traveler put the last of his newly adjusted equipment back in the suitcase. Then he looked over at Kren. "I'm not going to underestimate Warliam. I refuse to have the fate

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of Earth on my conscience with Tya's death. I promise you that."

A few moments later, Kren followed as The Traveler carried the suitcase to a hatch on the side of the Phoenix. The Traveler put the palm of his hand against a silver plate to the right of the hatch. The plate glowed for a second, there was a click, and the hatch swung open. Stepping up on the step just below the hatch, The Traveler grabbed the edge of the hatchway and pulled himself inside. Kren followed, but took the step cautiously. "You really went for the detail." he said when he got through the hatch. That was when he got his first look at the interior of the Phoenix.

Kren knew his friend had an eccentric style when it came to planetary research, but that hadn't prepared him for this. The interior walls of the Phoenix were covered with monitors and control boards. All the controls he could see, and probably every control on the ship, were a mix of computer generated touch and printed press keys. From what he could gather, the printed keys were backups, in case of computer failure. He had to admit his friend wasn't taking any chances when it came to the primary controls on his ship. He wondered if the ship also had voice control as well, though he never ventured to put it to the test.

Another thing he noticed about the design of the ship was the stress on function, rather than comfort. There were two backless stools set at each wall control panel. Underneath two of the control panels where fold out cots that, from what he could see, used the stools for support.

Then Kren noticed something that really looked out of place among the control panels and monitors. Sitting on one of the stools was a straw hat. From his

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limited knowledge, he recognized the hat as a Panama, with a bit of a German influence. This appeared prevalent by the pink braided straw hat band and pink straw feather on the left side. Also it seemed to have a narrower brim, which was bent up in the back and on the sides.

"A present from Tya." The Traveler said from behind him. "She had it made for me."

Not wanting to pursue the subject, Kren remained silent. He knew all it would do is cause his friend pain. He turned away from The Traveler's hat and continued his perusal of the ship.

Looking toward the back Kren could see what looked like a small molecular manipulator, for the purpose of reproducing components for repairing the ship, he supposed. Also there was a small food processing unit to the right and a combination waste disposal/toilet, with a pull around curtain, on the left.

To many Vevettans these kinds of controls and living setup would be too primitive even to consider. But to Kren, because he had grown used to living around primitive cultures he studied, it was simplicity used to its advantage.

"Speaking of devices," he said, looking over at The Traveler, who was sitting in one of the two thrusterseats that were in front of the navigation console in the forward section of the ship, "where's Rifc? I haven't seen him all the time I've been here."

"He's been here...." The Traveler said, turning in his seat toward Kren and pointing to the robot, which was sitting in a socket-like holder on the upper right side of the navigation console.

".....gathering information on the cultures and subcultures present in the North American area during

the early 1990's." Rifc finished for him.

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He could see that he'd been right about the navigation console, it too was a mix of computer generated and printed keys. He assumed the reason Rifc's holder was located where it was so Rifc could connect to the navi-computer, and pilot when The Traveler was otherwise occupied.

"Do you really think that's necessary?" Kren said, coming over to stand next to The Traveler, to get a better look at the console. "I mean, I really doubt there'll be much contact with the natives."

"Be ready for all possible contingencies." The Traveler said, looking up at him. "The council may think I can just go down there and get him, but I'm not taking any chances. If I have to, I want to be able to melt into the crowd."

"Master," Rifc interrupted, "we have got our clearance from the base computer."

"Confirm it, Rifc, and tell them I'll be ready momentarily."

"Yes, Master."

"Well, it appears time's caught up with you." Kren said.

“Yeah time.......It's time this got resolved, for both Warliam's and my sake." The Traveler said, getting up out of his thrusterseat and putting his hand on Kren's shoulder. "Time to say goodby, my friend."

"Promise me you'll do anything you have to stop him."

"I'll do my best."

The Traveler invited Kren to stay and watch the launch, which would be a rare pleasure. It was only once every few hundred years a new ship was launched. This would be even more special because the Phoenix was a prototype. Kren could hardly wait.

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Kren left the ship without another word. There was too much left unsaid between him and his friend, and this wasn't the time.

He headed to the observation room, which The Traveler told him was on the left side of the space doors, facing the Phoenix.

He found when he entered that the observation room was small with plain white walls and a large viewing window that gave a wide view of the hangar. In front of the window was a small console, with four small monitors and the same mix of computer touch and printed press key boards that were used on the Phoenix. "Obviously." he said, out loud to himself.

Sitting down at the console, on the backless stool that was provided, Kren waited for the show to begin. He didn't have long to wait.

The anti-gravity unites, underneath the Phoenix hummed as the ship lifted off from the deck and hovered. It's wheels folded and slid inside its body. Metal plates slid in place, covering the wheel compartments. Slowly, the ship started moving toward the space pressure doors at the other end of the hangar.

Kren knew pumps were draining the oxygen from the hangar. In moments the pressure doors would open, and the Phoenix would enter the emptiness of space. He had to see it.

"Give me an external visual of the space doors." Kren said to the console, hoping to the Creator it had voice control. Thankfully, a monitor to his left came to life revealing an angular view of the outer side of the pressure doors, the blackness of the starfield, and the glowing presence of the twin suns Brith and Somat. The doors slowly started to part.

He looked through the viewing window and saw the Phoenix had nearly reached the doors, which were open enough to give him a view of the starfield beyond. Soon,

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the doors opened completely and the ship cruised slowly through them.

Looking down at the monitor, he was caught by the beauty of the moment. The light of Brith and Somat caught the Phoenix creating a rainbow effect as it reflected off the ship's white skin. The rainbow slowly dissipated as the ship maneuvered away from Overbase and out towards deep space.

In the cockpit of the Phoenix, The Traveler was at a loss for words to describe what he was feeling. In a way he felt like he had come back from the dead. The moment he looked out at the vista of stars in front of him he felt a surge of warmth pass through him. After over a hundred years he was finally home.

"Rifc, make final preparations for the transition to the vortex." The Traveler said, with more enthusiasm than he'd had felt in a long time. Oh, the Creator, have I missed this. he thought as Rifc started the sequence of effects that would send them back in time and across space.

A few moments later Kren saw another rainbow effect, this time it was caused by the Phoenix's vortex drive. It started with tendrils of rainbow energy twisting and turning around the ship, like boa constrictors embracing their prey. Soon, the ship was enveloped in the multicolored aura. Then, there was a bright flash of releasing energy and the ship disappeared.

Kren, letting out his breath, that he didn't even know he was holding, said, "Goodby, my friend." before turning off the monitor.

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Chapter Five

ENCOUNTER AT S.M.

Taking another long swig of his beer, Jake Jones looked into the clear November sky with its shining stars and thought, Fuck, this is shit!

It wasn't the sky nor the beer that made him think that, it was the way his life was going. Yes, he was the star of the football team, a nothing team of a shitty community college. He, the guy who at this time last year was feathering his nest for a university athletic scholarship with all the trimmings. He, who thought the only way for him was straight up to the major leagues. Boy had I been wrong. he thought, frustrated.

It was all because of that bitch science teacher he'd had in high school. If it hadn't been for her squealing to that Puritan son of a bitch of a principle about him bribing his teachers to get higher grades he would have been on top of the world.

Now, of course, because of all the controversy it caused he lost all his chances at ever getting into the big schools and getting discovered. Shit!

He finished off the can and tossed it over the side of the back cargo area of the blue Ford Ranger truck he was lounging in.

"Another beautiful pass!" said Wilmer "Sixpack" Louis, tossing Jake another beer overhand.

Jake caught the beer can over his head without any trouble.

"The crowd goes wild!" continued Sixpack, making crowd sounds.

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"We really kicked ass tonight!" said Ben Johnson, the third member of the threesome.

"Yeah." said Jake, feigning enthusiasm. The fact was he wasn't at all enthused about the game. It meant nothing to him.

If the game was such a victory why weren't they out balling some cheerleaders instead of sitting here in the college parking lot by themselves getting drunk. What a fucked up Saturday! he thought, running his hand over his trim cut blond hair and sighing.

Hell, he thought, why do I even hang around with these two loser? The only reason was because they had their uses. Sixpack was his muscle. If anyone got in his way Sixpack smashed them. As for Ben, it was all politics. Ben was the son of the Dean of the College, so being his friend kept that bitch at bay. Together they were his power base at the College of San Mareno.

If it meant he had to play buddy buddy with them, it was the price of power. He needed any kind of power he could get now, no matter how minuscule.

"Look at that." Ben said, looking above the lights from the houses on the distant hills. Then he pointed up at what had caught his eye.

Jake looked up at the multicolored lighted object just to humor him, but the moment he saw it he knew there was something to Ben's reaction.

Most people would have thought the object was a small airplane or helicopter, but he knew he'd never seen aircraft come over the hills from that direction, much less making the kinds of sharp maneuvers it made. At one point the object seemed to stop in midair.

Then the object changed course. To Jake's surprise, he realized the object was going to fly right over the College.

"What's the big deal?" asked Sixpack,downing his beer and letting out a

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thunderous burp. "Looks like just another friggin chopper to me ."

"It isn't. Is it, Jake?" asked Ben.

"No way." said Jake, as he watched the object getting bigger by the second. It also seemed to be getting lower in the sky the closer it got.

Jake had never believed that crap about flying saucers, but now he was faced with the realization that he just might be looking at one. His rational mind was telling him that it just couldn't be, but his eyes told him another story.

Now the object was close enough that he could make out two strips of lights encircling its hull, one blue and the other yellow. The rest of the colors he'd seen were caused by a rainbow-like hallow of light outlining the craft.

He was amazed that even this close he couldn't hear a sound coming from the object. He did notice a prickly feeling all over his body. He asked the others and they said they felt it too.

Now the object was almost directly, and at most a couple hundred feet, over their heads. The air had an ozone-like smell to it.

From this position, Jake could see the underside of the craft. He was amazed to find he couldn't see any flaming thrusters or anything that looked like a propulsion system, though he really wasn't sure what to look for.

Then he looked over at his companions. They both looked up trance-like at the craft. He could see fear in their faces. Pussies. he thought.

He knew that if these were going to be his last moments he wasn't going to go

submissively. Just let that fuckin' thing try something. He really wasn't sure what he would do, but there would be no mistaking as meek.

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But, as he watched the object, it moved past them and over the college buildings.

Then, he saw that when it reached, by his estimate, the far end of the campus it stopped in midair and began to land.

"Let's get out of here, Jake!" Ben said, panic in his voice.

"Fuckin' whimp!" Sixpack said, crushing his empty beer can and tossing it over his

shoulder. "Let's go kick some fuckin green invader ass."

"You're crazy!" exclaimed Ben.

Jake wasn't listening to them argue, he had more important things on his mind. What would a real alien spacecraft be worth to the government? he thought. Or the media for that matter? It'd be worth more than I could imagine. he answered himself. The person who had one could write his own ticket.

"We're going after it." Jake said, to Ben's amazement.

"You're both fucking crazy!" Ben said, and started getting out of the truck. "I'm having nothing to do with this."

"We're all going." Jake said, gesturing to Sixpack to stop him.

Before Ben could do anything, the air was knocked out of him as Sixpack knocked him the rest of the way out of the truck and landed on top of him.

Then, the big guerrilla got up, grabbed him by his shirt, while he was still trying to get his breath

back, and pulled Ben up to face him. "Your gonna do whatever you're told, rich boy."

"That ship and its crew could be our ticket," Jake said,getting out the back of the truck, "and I'm not going to let you whimp out on me."

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Jake had Sixpack escort Ben in the truck through the driver's side door. Jake got in on the other side at the same time, just in case Ben thought about making a run for it again.

"Think of it this way," Jake said, with a sly smile, "we're all gonna be rich men."

"More likely dead." said Ben as Sixpack started up the truck and began to drive.

They drove down the main road that encircles the College because Jake was sure that the ship must have landed somewhere between the student daycare center and the football field. There was a lot of small out of the way parking area around there, that were used when the main parking areas got too congested. He'd bet his lost future pro football career the ship landed in one of them.

His suspicions were affirmed when the truck's engine died and refused to start just before they reached the dirt road that went down past the daycare center.

"We'll have to walk the rest of the way. Jake said.

"This is madness." Ben said, looking at the darkness down the moonlit road, "Anything could be down there."

"Do we really have to take this little faggot, Jake?" Sixpack asked, looking with disgust at the dark haired guy beside him. "He might start crying for his mommy and blow the whole thing."

Jake smiled when he saw that Sixpack had gotten Ben angry.

"To hell with you!" Ben said, "I just think this is something we can't handle. How do you know that if we charge in there to kick, as you said, 'green ass' we might not end up having our little pink asses blown off!"

"We'll just have to make sure that doesn't happen.” Jake said.

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"Fine, wonderful." Ben said sarcastically. "Then we'll have no problem."

Jake opened the dashboard compartment and got out Sixpack's flashlight. "Did you change the batteries in this, I remember the last time."

"What the fuck you think I am, dumb?" answered Sixpack angrily.

That's exactly what I'm thinking. Jake thought as he looked at the brown haired Neanderthal before him.

Then all three of them, with Ben sandwiched in the middle, headed down the dirt road.

The full moon overhead and the flashlight did little to cut through the darkness that closed in around them. The dense trees to either side of them seemed to soak up the light. The lack of light caused the small sounds around them to intensify.

Jake began having the feeling that something was following them. It became so bad he started listening for any sound that sounded like distant feet walking through the bushes. But that's ridiculous. he thought after a short time. It's just those old childhood fears of the dark coming to the surface because of what we're looking for.

Sixpack jumped when he stepped on a branch in the road. "Shit!" he yelled, embracing himself and trying to stop his heart from racing.

"Look who's scared." Ben said, laughing, though he'd jumped too when he heard it.

"Quiet, you jerkoffs, you want to give everything away." Jake said angrily. "How we know it's not close by."

They continued on, though they walked with a slightly more cautious stride.

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Soon they came to the dead looking daycare center. Jake flashed the light around the front of the building, but there was nothing to be seen, as he expected. It was the same with the small playground area on the right of the building. Aliens wouldn't be caught dead here. Jake thought, as they continued down the road.

It was after a slight bend in the road that he first saw the glow. All fear in Jake's expression disappeared and his sly smile returned.

It was as Jake had expected, the craft had

landed in one of the parking areas. This one was really remote. It was next to a cliff, that gave a wonderful view of the lights of the city below.

Jake and the others looked down on the ship from a dense clump of trees on a slope above the parking area. There was still the ozone-like smell and the prickliness, like static electricity, emanating from the ship. It looked smaller than Jake remembered. The rainbow hallow was gone and the yellow light strip was flashing. He could now see that the ship was mushroom shaped, the blue light strip on the bulbous upper section. The hull was white in color and looked more like the metal's true color rather than a paint job. There was no sign of landing gear, the ship seemed balanced on the stem-like lower section.

From their vantage point above the craft Jake and the others were able to see that the top of the ship was clear, but the light coming from inside the cockpit was too bright for them to make out any details. The only thing they could make out was what looked like the silhouette of a man moving around inside.

Suddenly, a humming sound started coming from the ship. A small ramp came

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down and a hatch opened on the side of the ship. Bright light poured out of the hatch from inside the ship illuminating the parking area.

Then they watched as the silhouetted figure from inside the cockpit came through the hatchway and down the ramp. It was then they got their first look at the figure.

The creature was about six foot in height and wore a tattered looking hooded burgundy robe with an equally tattered black robe underneath. For the most part it looked human right down to the four fingers and a thumb on each black gloved hand.

The only thing that didn't look human was it's head. It was hideous. It was inhumanly large, gray, and oval in shape, tapering to a point at the chin. There was a small slit where the mouth should be. The nose was made up of a bump with two slanted holes on the sides. It's eyes were large, shiny black, and slanted.

"Are you ready to get the hell out of here?" Ben whispered to Jake, who was beside him.

"Pussy!" whispered Sixpack from the other side. "A freaky face and he wants to turn tail."

"You think you can take him?" asked Jake, looking past Ben at Sixpack.

"The fucker won't know what hit im."

"But what if there's others in the ship?" asked Ben.

"Just look at the size of that ship." Jake said. "Plus we haven't seen any others in the ship."

He pointed at the clear roof into the cockpit for emphasis.

"I won't have anything to do with this, and you can't force me." Ben said with

resolve. "If you try I'll simply warn that thing down there."

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"Fine you just sit up here and watch," Jake said angrily, "but don't come around wanting some of the credit when this is over."

Jake watched as Sixpack quietly moved over to some trees down at the bottom of the slope. The position was perfect for what he was about to do.

Jake observed that the creature was moving around the ship looking at a box-like device it held in it's hand. He figured if he timed his signal to Sixpack right the creature would have it's back to him when he charged.

"You two could get us all killed!" Ben whispered.

Jake answered him by slamming his elbow into Ben's shoulder. "We will if you don't shut the fuck up." he warned Ben.

Jake continued to watch the creature, waiting for it to be in the right position. Finally the creature had it's back to Sixpack.

Jake quickly turned the flashlight on and off.

Seeing the signal Sixpack came out from behind the tree where he was hiding and charged the creature.

Jake was surprised to see that even after Sixpack made his charge the creature didn't seem to take any notice of him.

Then, with astounding agility, the creature moved to the left and out of the way just as Sixpack was about to tackle it. Sixpack came stumbling past it, his momentum making him unable to stop.

The creature brought it's elbow down onto the back of Sixpack's neck as he passed.

Sixpack landed sprawled out on his stomach five feet from the creature, stunned.

Without thinking, Jake and Ben came running

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down the hill to help Sixpack.

Upon seeing them, the creature pushed a button on the box it was holding. Jake and Ben heard a buzzing sound and found they'd stopped running and were standing halfway down the slope.

"Come down here and stand before me." the creature ordered in a voice that sounded the way a person with a mechanical voice box does.

Jake found that he was having trouble thinking, the creature's order was reverberating around in his head causing his own thoughts to be drowned out. Deep inside his mind he realized the creature had all of them at his mercy.

He watched as Sixpack also got up and stood in front of the creature.

Soon, all three of them were standing in front of the ship staring blankly at the creature.

"That was very foolish." it said. "You might have ran into someone who would be less forgiving."

Then it told them it would allow them to think and speak. "If you promise not to try

anymore stunts I'll let you free as well."

Without any real choice they agreed.

Sixpack fell to his knees when he was released. Ben kneeled down and helped him up.

The creature threw back it hood and they realized, seeing the seem and latches, that what they had mistook for the creature's head was in actuality merely a helmet.

The creature unlatched the helmet and took it off. The face underneath was quite human. He, now that they knew his gender, had long dark hair and intense dark eyes. His skin was dry and sandpapery as if he had spent most of his in a dry environment. This did nothing to take away from his high cheekbones, aquiline nose,

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and strong chin.

Jake surmised that some women would find him attractive, in a harsh sort of way. Jake assessed his age as being in his middle to late thirties, but the condition of his skin made it difficult to be precise.

"My name is Warliam Nathbak. I'm from a planet near what you call the Belt of Orion named Vevetta II. I'm on a peaceful mission." he said, his voice now

human sounding now that the helmet was off.

"If you're on a peaceful mission why carry weapons?" Ben asked.

"This?" Warliam asked, shuffling the box-like device from one hand to another. "I got this on the planet Centura for protection. I would be a fool to land on a potentially dangerous planet without some."

"Why not use some sort of stun device? I can see more than one use for that thing." Ben said pointedly.

"True," Warliam admitted, "and I plan to use this a lot on this mission."

"You have yet to tell us what your mission is. Or weren't you going to?" Jake interjected.

"It won't matter if I tell you. I could always wipe your minds later." he said."I'm here to help your planet to find the peace your people deserve." He went on to explain that the people of his planet Vevetta II had been watching Earth since long before man evolved. He went on to say that recently, with the threat of nuclear destruction, his people had become worried about the future of the people of Earth. "We figure if your people knew they were a part of a universal community they might put aside their petty disputes and put their resources toward making friendly relations with us."

"And how the hell are you gonna do that, go walking through town with a sign saying 'I'm an alien' on it?" Sixpack said sarcastically.

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"Not quite." Warliam said blandly. "For my mission to succeed I'm going to have to keep it secret until I'm ready to implement it. That's were this comes in," he said, tossing the device and catching it in the same hand., "or, actually it's big sister."

"What?" Jake asked.

"In the ship I have a larger, more powerful version of this unit. The only way I can keep my actions undetected is to use it to control the perceptions of the people on this campus. I will also motivate some of them to assist me in my work, without their knowledge of course."

"You say you come in peace, yet you're still willing to use force to get people to obey you." Ben said, there was suspicion in his voice.

"I mean them no harm." Warliam said, spreading his arms in a gesture of acquiescence. "What do you think they'd do if they knew what I am and I asked them for help?"

"Probably they'd turn you in." Jake said, pushing Ben out of his way. "I see what you mean."

"Like what you and Sixpack had in mind when you came down here." Ben interjected, sarcastically.

"But that's been forgotten, now I see Warliam in a different light." Meaning, I can be more famous, Jake thought with relish, if I help him.

"I could use the help of some uncontrolled students to get me supplies off campus and to supervise the other students for me." Warliam said.

"Just my thoughts exactly." Jake said, looking at Sixpack, who shared his hungry grin. Total control over all the people on this campus. thought Jake. It's a dream come true.

"I can't believe you two." Ben said, shocked by them even considering the proposal.

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"Shut the fuck up!" said Sixpack, swinging Ben around to face him. "Either you're with us or your one of those mind controlled dumb fucks." The look in Sixpack's eyes told

Ben he meant it.

"Then we're agreed?" Warliam asked, waiting for Ben to decent.

"On one condition, that we have free reign over the people on the campus." Jake said.

"And that the people aren't to be forced to do anything that could endanger them." Ben added.

"You keep your mouth shut. I'm making the terms." Jake said, turning on Ben with furious eyes.

"No," said Warliam, holding a hand up to quiet Jake, "I agree to both of your terms. If your friend has concerns about the safety of the other people on the campus then it is my duty to allay them."

"Agreed?" Warliam said, holding out his hand to Jake.

"Agreed." Jake said, grasping Warliam's hand. Upon releasing it though he shot Ben a warning glance.

"Now if you gentlemen could help me, I have much to do before this night is over."

Warliam said gesturing towards the ramp.

Without another word, Jake, Sixpack, and, reluctantly, Ben followed Warliam up the ramp and into the ship.

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Chapter Six

THE MEETING

The Traveler sat in the pilot's seat and looked out at the swirling rainbow energy streams that formed the vortex. With his right hand he pressed one of several memory disks Rifc had created up to his forehead, to update him on the subcultures prevalent in 1993. Thousands of pieces of information flowed into his brain and imbedded themselves into his memory. But he was having trouble concentrating.

It wasn't the motion of the vortex that distracted him, it was the anticipation of having to face Warliam. He still had problems with the idea that it was his best friend he was traveling to Earth to stop. Before Warliam had returned from Earth he'd been dedicated to his oath not to interfere with the continuity of the flow the time stream. He had taught a young Flink Plexaha the belief that no one had the right to change time no matter the reason, and to do so would be to commit the ultimate sin against the whole of creation. What could have changed him? But then, the Warliam he had known wouldn't have tried to hold the Council at gun point or murder Tya. What if he really didn't know the real Warliam Nathbak? That really bothered him.

"Rifc, I'd like your assessment of the situation as it stands." he said, putting down the memory disk and putting another to his forehead.

"Assimilation is more successful if the subject empties his mind and relaxes."

"I can't relax, there's too much at stake." he said, 60

tossing the memory disk on the console in frustration. "I'd help if you'd just answer me without playing the part of my nursemaid."

"Apology Master, I will try not to next time." Rifc said, his voice low. "As to your inquiry, in all honesty, I believe that there are too many factors in Warliam's favor; so many that it would take most of our time in transit to go into in detail."

Then, as if reading The Traveler's mind, Rifc added, "But, as you know, I can only give you a

machine's logical assessment. There is still the factor of the human tendency to go against logic to be considered."

"Which means I'll still be running into the situation blind." he said, annoyedly tapping his fingers on the edge of the console. "I wish we had more of an idea what he's got in mind."

"Master, it is unproductive to sit and worry. The best thing we can do is wait and assess the situation in more detail when we reach Earth."

"I guess so." The Traveler said, his voice softening. "I'm sorry for what I said before. This situation is so damned frustrating. I feel like my loyalties are being stretched in different directions."

"I wish I could help you in this instance, Master," Rifc said, in the most understanding tone he had been programmed for, "but this is something you must work out for yourself."

The Traveler just nodded, sat back, and held another memory disk up to his forehead. He looked out at the swirling rainbow of the vortex and wondered what he'd find when he got to Earth.

The past three days had gone better than Warliam had anticipated. With the help of

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his new associates he had found the perfect place to install the main Centuran mind control device. All the people on the campus were already programmed and going about their business totally oblivious of he and his cohorts actions. That is until he needed them.

Thanks to Jake, he now had some proper attire. He was thoroughly pleased with Jake's choices. At the moment he was wearing a burgundy turtleneck shirt, with dark brown pants, and a pair of brown leather shoes.

Also thanks to Jake and his associates' tireless efforts he was now working from a base of operations. Before he moved in the room, which was located in the administration building, had been a computer study center which was normally used only by counselors, tutors, and a few select students working on administration authorized projects.

It had surprised Warliam when Jake told him what the room had been used for. "So this is how the administration uses county funds." he had commented,

amused.

The room was definitely not college standard. For one thing it was a quarter size bigger than the standard classroom. It had nine top of the line IBM computers, each with its own printer. The first things Warliam had noticed when he'd entered the room for the first time were the light green wall to wall carpeting, the potted plants set at all four corners of the room, and the framed poster art covering the walls. Then he saw the lacquered oak desks and counters, each with their own heavily cushioned desk chairs. Upon seeing these comforts he knew his associates had chosen the right place. After that all that was needed was a folding bed, hot plate, and a coffee maker to make his new home complete.

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And to think, he thought, sitting at his desk sipping a steaming cup of fresh coffee from the Bunn coffee maker Jake had appropriated from the teachers' lounge, I was originally was going to settle for one of those blandly styled computer study rooms in the computer science building.

But now it was time for him to put his mind back on business. In a short time Jake Jones and his associates would arrive for a meeting so he could tell them about the next phase of the operation.

He did not have to wait long before Jake and the others entered and stood in front of his desk. Jake and Sixpack looked enthusiastic about what was to come. Ben Johnson looked at him with unbridled suspicion.

"Well, gentlemen, I see we're on time." he said, putting his coffee cup on the desk. "I know you're all anxious to know what's to come next." He looked over at Ben Johnson and smiled. Ben returned a dagger stare. Yes, my friend, Warliam thought, we'll definitely have to keep a watchful eye on you.

"What I have planned is this, we're going to link this computer," he motioned to the computer sitting on the right side of his desk, "to a satellite dish which you'll have built and installed on the roof of this building."

"Why go to all that trouble?" Ben asked. "Why not just use one of the dishes the television station has over by the library?"

"For one thing they're too far away. It would be too inefficient to run a cable from Administration all

the way through the library's courtyard and down the slope to the dishes."

"Then why not move one of those dishes next to the Administration building?" Jake asked. " Then all you'd have to do is fix it the way you want."

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Warliam looked over at Jake like he was a child who asked an obvious question. "The design I have in mind is a transmitter/receiver combination that will work more efficiently than your technology is capable at this time. It would be an unacceptable waste of precious time to even try and convert one of those dinosaurs out there." he said, frustrated. "I'm going to have enough trouble converting this computer into something usable." He put his hand on top of the computer monitor.

"You've yet to tell us what this is all leading to." Ben said.

"Your right." he said, giving Ben a knowing glance. "I plan to transmit a message to a satellite, which I will modify for my purposes, that will relay it through your satellite network to every country and person on your planet."

"Wow!" said Sixpack, impressed.

"It's that simple." Ben said incredulously.

"Yes it is." Warliam said, seeing from the looks on the others faces that Ben was the only unbeliever.

With that, he picked up the rolled up plans to the satellite dish from his desk and handed them to Jake.

Jake hungrily pulled the rubber band off the plans and opened them. After glancing at them for a few moments he said, "I don't see anything special."

"You don't have the technical knowledge to interpret them." Warliam said, slightly annoyed. "You'll need to put together a crew of students from the welding and electrical engineering classes. You'll use the welding room in the Industrial Arts building to do the

construction work."

Jake pushed the plans into Ben's hands and said, "This'll be you and Sixpack's job. You guys can take

turns with the supervising."

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"And what are you going to be doing?" Ben asked coldly.

"Well, I'm..........." Jake began, but Warliam cut in.

"He's going to be helping me." Warliam said, jamming a piece of paper into Jake's hands. "I need a few components and equipment that aren't available on campus."

Jake looked over the list and said, "How the hell am I suppose to pay for all this?"

"Use the 'I owe you' system." Warliam said, handing Jake the hand-held mind control device.

"I'll have nothing to do with stealing." Ben said, grabbing Warliam and turning him to face him.

"All you have to worry about is supervising the construction of the satellite dish. This has nothing to do with you." Warliam said, his anger showing. "Don't interfere with me or your situation could become... ..complicated." Warliam saw from the look on Ben's face that his message had gotten through.

"I'm not finished yet." Warliam said, when he saw Jake and Sixpack heading for the door. "There's one more thing I feel you should know."

Jake and Sixpack remained where they were and listened.

"Before I left Vevetta II, I heard there was a group that was opposed to my mission. The Council on Vevetta warned me that the opposition might try to stop me from completing my mission. Upon leaving I made sure to make it hard for them to trace my arrival time. But I'm afraid this might not be enough."

“Well, what are we supposed to do about it?" Sixpack asked.

"Very little Wilmer." Warliam said, seeing from 66

the annoyed expression on Sixpack's face that he didn't like people calling him by his first name, "This is something I'm gonna have to deal with myself. I have a suspicion about how my enemies are gonna handle this. There is one among their ranks who is an old friend of mine.....a very old friend. It seems to me that it wouldn't be beyond their thinking to send him after me."

"Well, then give us a description of the guy and we'll look out for him." Jake said, moving up to standing in front of Warliam's desk again, intrigued.

"No need." Warliam said, turning to the computer on his desk. "I'm in the process of arranging a warm welcome for him."

"You said his people couldn't get a good trace on when you got here, what if he's already here?" Jake

asked.

"He's not." Warliam said. "I've ways to detect his ship."

"But....." Jake started, but Warliam cut him off.

"I said I would deal with this." Warliam said angrily. "You just go and get your assignments done." He could see from their looks that they were less than enthusiastic.

He watched Ben leave without making a comment about the situation. He didn't know what to make of that.

Putting Ben's lack of response out of his mind, he turned to the computer and turned on the monitor. He pondered the image that appeared on it's face. It was almost finished. All it would take would be a few small corrections and additions to have a perfect computer generated rendering of the face of his old friend Flink Plexaha.

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Chapter Seven

DEAD RINGER

The Traveler put on his newly molecularly reprocessed brown leather jacket, which had once been his krent fur coat in its previous incarnation, as he looked out the Phoenix's front window at the blue marble in space that was the planet Earth. Seeing his reflection in the window, he looked with approval at his attire. He still wore the same white with brown paint splatter shirt he'd arrived in Khiba Quar wearing, but now it was clean and good as new thanks to the molecular manipulator. He also wore a pair of dark brown slacks and dark brown leather loafers. Around his neck he wore a Texas style bolo rope tie with a silver octagon shaped clasp that had a large, round, burgundy crystal in the center, which was in actuality a visual transmitter and two way communication device.

"What you think?" he asked Rifc, who was sitting in his socket on the navigation console.

"Given my research, Master, I believe your attire will not look out of place."

Then The Traveler picked up the straw hat from the console and put it on. "What about this?"

"I believe the terminology is that it will be a 'statement'." Rifc said. "But it will not go beyond the parameters of the dress style of this period."

He'd hoped Rifc would say something like that. This hat was strangely comforting, almost like having a bit of Tya's spirit with him. He needed that kind of comfort now.

Looking through his reflection, he saw that the Phoenix was almost within scanning

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range of Earth. "Rifc activate the cloaking shield. We could be detected by one of their observatories at this distance."

The view through the window blurred slightly as the shield formed around the Phoenix. "Shield activated and fully operational." Rifc confirmed.

The Traveler hit a computer generated button on the navigation console and the generated buttons on his side of the console reconfigured into the pattern of a science console. He pressed another button and a

square image about the size of a small monitor screen was projected on the window to his left. It presented a one dimensional map of the city of San Mareno.

Then he punched a series of commands into the console and another square projection presented itself above the first. This image was a two dimensional map and was rainbow colored. He noticed the color red in the northwest portion of the map, in the mountains.

He sent another set of commands into the console and both images focused in on the northwest portion. He saw now that the red was actually in two locations within closely the same area and had changed in color to pink, telling him that the readings were at a low level.

"Strange." The Traveler said.

"What are you scanning for, Master?" Rifc asked, after adjusting himself in his socket so he could see what The Traveler was commenting on.

"The two main power sources of Warliam's ship." the Traveler said, leaning forward to take a closer look at the image. "But there should be a stronger emanation. This is a trickle." He sat back in his chair and shook his head. "He must've found some way to shield the power emanations. But how?"

"And look at this." He pointed at the two pink splotches. "There are two sources of the emanations. He must've separated them."

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"Possibly he did it to make it more difficult for us to locate him." Rifc suggested,

anticipating the Traveler's next question.

"But he knows if I get my hands on either one he'll be trapped on Earth."

"Possibly that is not a consideration, Master."

"But why not put one in another part of the city. Why so close?"

"It could be that he needs one power source for what he is planning."

The Traveler didn't say another word. He punched another set of commands into the console. The two dimensional map overlapped the one dimensional map. The Traveler saw that the two pink splotches were located on the campus of the College of San Mareno.

"Not quite what I expected." The Traveler commented. "Why there?"

"That, Master, we will not be able to determine

until we are able to assess the situation at ground level."

The Traveler ordered Rifc to set a course down to the city of San Mareno.

The Traveler had Rifc land the Phoenix outside a receiving bay behind a super market in a shopping center down the hill from the College of San Mareno. It's just lucky, he thought after Rifc finished landing, we arrived between deliveries.

Figuring he shouldn't press his luck, he ordered Rifc to deactivate the cloak. There was the same blurring effect outside the window as the field around the ship dispersed.

A few seconds later a large semi-truck came lumbering around the corner of the building into the receiving area.

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"I think it's time for us to leave, Rifc." The Traveler said, as the truck driver blew his horn, obviously annoyed by this unexpected hindrance. "Set the ship for manual terrain driving."

A compartment under the console opened and a steering wheel slid up and locked into place in front of The Traveler. An accelerator and a brake peddle lifted slightly from the floor and slipped into place near The Traveler's right foot. On the navigation console two new computer generated buttons appeared, one for reverse and the other for forward.

With the truck driver's horn blaring in his ear, The Traveler cautiously backed the Phoenix out of the receiving area. "That was an encouraging beginning." The Traveler commented as he drove out of the shopping center and onto the road heading up the hill to the college.

There wasn't a lot of cars on the road, but The Traveler figured it was normal for the hour in the afternoon. Though, given Warliam's presence on the campus, it seemed odd that any cars would be allowed to come or go from the campus. It seemed Warliam wanted to keep an appearance of normalcy on the campus. The Traveler wasn't fooled.

At the top of the hill the road split off and The Traveler turned the Phoenix off the main road and onto the entry road to the college. When he got to a small intersection near the college buildings he opted to turn left onto a road that took him around the main parking lot, which was loaded with cars, and over to the western side of the campus.

"From studying some maps I prepared from the scanning we made," Rifc informed The Traveler, "It is my belief that we will be coming up to an appropriately secluded place

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to park the Phoenix."

The parking area Rifc had chosen was a leveled off area down a small dirt road a little way down the slope of the hill from the road they'd been on. The parking area was empty and The Traveler noticed it was concealed by the trees along the road. Rifc told him there was five other small parking areas like this one along the slope of the hill around the campus. "I believe, " he said, "they are used when the main parking areas are full."

"Just as long as I can find my way back." The Traveler said, noting just how concealed it was. "That's what worries me."

"Just remember that this is the first dirt road you come to when you enter the western section of the campus."

"That'll be fine if I have the chance to retrace the way we came down this road. I really doubt if anything goes wrong I'll get the chance."

After pondering the problem for another moment The Traveler figured he'd cross that bridge when he came to it. Without further adieu, he headed to the rear of the Phoenix and started looking through his suitcase of devices for something appropriate for his mission. He picked a small flattened, circular device. The device was an energy detector he'd picked up on the planet Thugas Prime. He figured the palm sized device would remain perfectly concealed, but still be reliable enough to detect the power sources from Warliam's ship.

As The Traveler slipped the energy detector into his pocket , Rifc, using his anti-gravity unites, came floating up behind him. The Traveler jumped when the small robot spoke, "Master?"

"Don't do that!" The Traveler said, visibly startled.

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"Apology, Master." Rifc said. "I just wanted to suggest that it would appropriate for you to take something to protect yourself. I know you are, as a rule, against blatant violence, but it is my belief that it would be foolish of you to venture around this campus without some kind of defense."

"I'd already thought of it." said The Traveler, taking three clear marble-sized balls out of the suitcase.

"But, Master, are those not simple Magos glowballs?"

"Yeah, but I found a defensive use for them," he said, rubbing the balls between his fingers and watching them glow with yellow light, "that will incapacitate opponents without really hurting them."

"But, Master, I don't see how........."

"That's the idea, Rifc."

The Traveler put the balls in his jacket pocket and started towards the door. "You keep a constant monitor on me, Rifc. I'll need you to give me directions once I get to the buildings. And no matter what happens to me I don't want you to move the Phoenix from this spot unless I tell you to."

"Yes, Master."

The Traveler put his hand on a silver square on the wall and the door swung open. A refreshingly cool, moist, breeze blew into the Phoenix and hit The Traveler in the face. He stepped outside and looked out past the edge of the parking area at the serene view of the roof tops of the houses below and the large sweeping green pine trees on the hill in the distance. It's hard to believe, he thought, drinking in the view, that from the other end of the campus you'd see a huge city sprawled out in front of you.

The Traveler turned away from the view. He had important work to do.

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He headed around the Phoenix toward a concrete stairway that went up the slope to the upper road. When he got to the road he turned right and followed it until he got to a small parking area with a sign that read 'FACULTY PARKING ONLY' on it.

It was then he heard a slight buzzing in his ears. He knew that meant that he was in the field of the main unite of the Ceturan mind control device. Now he had to be careful.

He cautiously walked through the parking area and came to a walkway that ran behind three large two level buildings with two small one level buildings sandwich between them. He figured the large buildings

housed the classes, while the small ones were for faculty offices. He didn't like the look of either kind of building as an access way to the inner courtyards. They looked too confining. It would be too easy for him to get blocked off inside either of them. He asked Rifc his opinion.

"Well, Master," Rifc's voice came out of the crystal in the clasp of The Traveler's bolo, "if I were you I would go straight to the large building on your left, that is the Computer Science building. The walkway turns off at that point and goes along the building and comes out on the courtyard for the English/Sociology building."

He took Rifc's advice and came out on a sheltered walkway that ran between the two main building in the courtyard. He saw that most of the space of the courtyard was taken up by three lawns that were separated by two walkways that went to the main walkway that separated the courtyards. Along the front of the middle lawn there was a long concrete bench with a half dozen students sitting and studying on it.

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On either side of the main walkway were four square concrete planters setup in a square pattern with, what The Traveler recognized as, brown leafed Chinese elm trees in them, though his botany was a little rusty. In the center of the square pattern was a large wooden bulletin board with a large crowd of students surrounding it.

This made The Traveler suspicious.

Making sure to attract as little attention as possible, he went over and eased his way into the crowd to see what garnered so much interest. He was stunned when he saw that the focus of all the attention was a poster with his face on it. On the poster were instructions for the students to capture him in any way they could.

The Traveler cautiously backed his way out of the crowd and turned to leave. Out of the corner of his eye he caught a sight that stopped him in his tracks.

It can't be. he thought as he turned his head and took a direct look at the woman sitting on the square planter off to the side of him. But even with the garish dress and makeup of a punk rocker she bore a startling resemblance to Tya. "Tya?" he heard himself say aloud before he could stop himself.

Before The Traveler could fully comprehend his blunder he was knocked to the ground from behind, the air knocked out of his body. He had to fight to keep from passing out. Several sets of hands grabbed at him. He found himself being lifted up by his arms. All he could see was a blur of fists hitting him in the face and body. Pain surged through him.

In the back of The Traveler's mind an action formed. Half out of instinct he lifted his legs, using his captors grip on his arms as support. With every bit of strength he had in his legs he kicked back, hoping to make a connection. He felt his feet impact on what he

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assumed were two of his captors knee caps and heard a reassuring crunching sound. The weight of two of the sets of hands grabbing his arms shifted and fell back, taking him with them. The other hands fell away from his arms as the two injured captors dragged him down with them. Renewed pain shot through him as his battered body landed on top of his two captors.

What am I supposed to do now? he asked himself. His pain-struck mind was a blank. He knew it was only a matter of seconds before the assault on his body would begin anew. He had to do something, but his mind was in a pain driven amnesia. Finally his mind cleared enough for the answer to come clear. The glowballs!, his mind screamed.

Quickly he pulled the three balls out of his pocket. Thank the Creator they weren't damaged. he thought as he started to rub them. The glowballs started glowing yellow.

He saw several students moving toward him. He quickly put his free hand over his eyes and threw the balls onto the ground. Even with his eyes covered he still caught a tiny bit of the yellow flash as the glowballs shattered.

When The Traveler pulled his hand away from his eyes he saw rainbow colored spots before them. But, thankfully, after a few seconds the spots dissipated and his vision cleared.

The students who had been directly in front of The Traveler were rolling on the ground screaming in pain and clawing at their eyes. The rest of the students around him were blindly stumbling around, rubbing their eyes, and bumping into each other.

Grabbing his hat, which was laying within arm's reach, The Traveler forced himself to stand up. A stabbing pain ripped through his left side. From what he could tell from

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the pain he figured he had some badly bruised ribs. He knew with his Vevettan constitution it would only take him a couple hours to make a complete recovery, but he knew he couldn't wait around for a couple hours. The blindness caused by the glowballs would only last fifteen minutes at the most.

He was about to head out of the courtyard when he caught sight of the woman who resembled Tya again. He knew couldn't just leave her at Warliam's mercy. He rationalized that Warliam would eventually notice her and use her against him. But another part of him told him, if he did try to rescue her, she could prove even more compromising to him on her own. After a few moments soul searching he realized that no matter what he did this woman made an already complicated situation that much more complicated.

After coming to the conclusion that he could best handle the situation by taking the woman with him, he now had the problem of how to get her back to the Phoenix. He knew if he tried to take her back under her own power she'd fight him all the way, which would not make his battered body feel any better. But he also knew that trying to carry her with his hurt ribs would be both agonizing and time consuming. Finally, he had to choose the latter.

Like the other students, the woman was stumbling around blindly, so The Traveler had no problem coming up behind her. Then it was a simple matter of hitting her across the back of her neck to bring her down.

The Traveler caught the woman as she fell, causing pain to shoot through him from his injured ribs.He stifled a scream, bent over, and threw the unconscious woman over his right shoulder, hoping that shifting the weight to the other side might

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lessen the pain a bit. It didn't help.

With his ribs complaining every second, he slowly made his way out of the courtyard.

"Master," Rifc's voice came out of the clasp of his bolo, "I have been monitoring your actions and my assessment of the situation is that this is not a logical course of action. Given your present physical condition it is unwise to......"

"I don't give a damn what your assessment is, Rifc," The Traveler said, through clenched teeth, "just have the ship ready to leave when I get there."

"Yes, Master." came Rifc's reply, though the volume seemed a tad lower than before.

The Traveler felt totally drained and was drenched in sweat by the time he reached the end of the faculty parking area. He stopped for a moment because he was having trouble breathing from the pain. With his free hand, he took his hat off and wiped the sweat out of his eyes with the sleeve of his coat. Then he laid the woman down on the hood of a nearby car and felt his ribs. Pain shot through him again. They were definitely swelling.

He knew he couldn't waste anymore time resting. The blow he'd given the woman wouldn't keep her out for too much long. Actually, he was surprised it had kept her out this long. Then there was also the fact that the students' blindness must have started to clear up by now.

Taking a breath to prepare himself, he careful pulled the woman off the hood of the car and threw her over his shoulder. Intense pain shot through him like a knife causing his knees to nearly buckle. Steadying himself against the side of the car, he locked his teeth and held back the scream that threatened to burst from his lips. Then when he felt stable

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enough to try, he pushed off from the car and staggered out of the faculty parking area.

Then after the longest few minutes he'd had in his life, he found himself lumbering down the road to the parking area. With his vision swimming slightly and most of his attention focused on just keeping moving, he knew there was a chance he might pass the parking area by. He also knew, though he'd past the boundary of the mind control device a short time back, he was far from out of danger. He was sure the students' blindness had cleared up. He was also sure that at least some of them would have the mind to inform Warliam. Given his weakened condition, The Traveler knew he'd be able to give little or no resistance if he was found.

He let out a sigh of relief, when he finally came up to the stairway leading down to the parking area. Cautiously, because of his unstable balance and weakness, he slowly started down the stairs.

He was about a third of the way down the stairs when the woman began to stir. Her arms started flaying about and she started kicking her legs. The Traveler tried to keep a hold of her but his knees went out from under him. He held onto the banister, but his body twisted under the woman's weight. She slid off The Traveler's shoulder and hit her head on the banister. The Traveler lost his grip on her and she went tumbling down the stairs.

Seeing her laying at the bottom of the stairs motionless gave The Traveler a renewed surge of adrenaline. "Oh, the Creator, no!" he said, as he went down the stairs as fast as his injured body would let him.

When he got to the bottom of the stairs he painfully bent over and examined her.

Thankfully, she was alive. She had a nasty gash on her forehead that was bleeding

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profusely. Her nose was definitely broken, probably from when she hit the banister. Her right arm and left leg were broken. The rest of her injuries seemed to be bruises caused by the fall, but he wasn't leaving out the possibility of internal injuries as well.

Cautiously, more because of his own condition than hers, The Traveler took her in both arms and carried her to the Phoenix. Rifc remotely opened the door.

"Rifc, get the emergency kit." he said, breathlessly, as he laid her on the floor after entering. "Take care of her. I'll get us out of here. This place might get pretty busy any time now."

Leaving Rifc to his duties, The Traveler painfully got into the pilot's seat. His adrenaline rush was almost used up. He had to fight to keep his eyes focused.

Weaving slightly, he drove the Phoenix out of the parking area and headed out of the college. He was surprised that there was no resistance to his leaving. He'd actually gotten away without incident.

Now, he thought, all I have to do is find a safe place to park before I pass out. He could have laughed at how impossible that sounded if it wouldn't have hurt so much.

The Phoenix headed weaving down the hill and away from the College of San Mareno.

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Chapter Eight

ALLIES

The Traveler adjusted himself, achingly, in the pilot's seat and continued to look out the window at the children playing on the jungle gym in the playground near where the Phoenix was parked. It surprised him that his ribs still hurt him since it had been several hours since he left the College of San Mareno. The ribs should have been totally healed. It could be the stress he'd been putting himself under. It was a well known fact that stress could slow the healing process. Whatever it was, all he knew was it was damned uncomfortable.

He turned in his chair and looked at his guest, who was sleeping on the pullout cot next to the main science station. Rifc had informed him that he fused the broken bones in her arm and leg, so they'd be better than ever. He also told him that the injury to her head wasn't as bad as it had looked, but that she'd wake up with a terrible headache. As for the other injuries, Rifc had injected her with a regen shot, so they 'd be totally healed, including the gash on her head, by the time she woke up.

This information didn't make The Traveler feel any better. He still felt responsible for her getting hurt. Though he'd convinced himself at the time that he'd taken her for all the good reasons he knew he was fooling himself. He just hadn't wanted to leave her because she resembled Tya, plain and simple. Even taking into account all the debating he'd done before making the decision it still came down to that fact.

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He sat and stared at her. She was an enigma. Who was she? The Traveler had borrowed her wallet while she was sleeping, but the only useful information it gave him was a name to go with the face, Robyn Ellen Bergan. The rest was simply trivia: her address, her height, weight, eye color, hair color, and age; but really nothing that told him who the person was he'd be dealing with when she finally woke up. Would she be friend or foe?

He examined her with his eyes and pondered. He noticed that many of the exterior physical differences between her and Tya were mainly cosmetic. Her hair was dyed jet black, streaked in blue in spots, and cut short with unevenly long bangs that were held out of her eyes by a generous amount of hair gel. She wore heavy black eyeliner and brownish color eye shadow that swept up past the ends of her eyebrows and up to her hairline. Her high cheek bones were overly accented with a heavy reddish brown blush. Her lips were done up with dark blue lipstick, which made her look like someone who had suffocated.

As for her clothes, they were definitely something The Traveler would have never seen Tya caught dead wearing. She wore a faded blue tank top with a black leather biker jacket that had an American flag on the left shoulder, and GET A FUCKIN' LIFE painted in silver paint on the back. Around her neck and wrists she wore black, with silver studded, dog collars. She also wore a black leather mini skirt with ripped fishnet stockings, black socks, and worn black tennis shoes.

As The Traveler was finishing his inspection he heard the woman groan. She started to stir. Grasping her throbbing head, she slowly sat up and looked around. "What the hell's going on?" she said, rubbing her head. "Oh, shit my head."

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The Traveler was mute. The Creator, he thought, her voice even sounds like Tya's.

"Where the hell am I?" she asked.

The Traveler just sat there staring. Like in the Hall of the Honored, the sight of, essentially, seeing Tya moving around talking was too much for him.

"Well?" she demanded. Then he noticed a look of fear come to her eyes. "You're not one of those perverts that steal women, screw them, and kill them?" Then the look of fear turned to anger. She stumbled out of the cot and stood before the Traveler with clenched fists."You'd better not try that shit with me, asshole, or I'll fuck you up good!"

Finally The Traveler found his voice. "No.....you don't have to do that. It's all right. I mean you no harm, Miss Bergan." He got out of the pilot's chair, achingly, and stood before her with his arms in an open handed gesture.

"How the hell do you know my name?" she asked, backing up a bit.

The Traveler sat down again and held up the

wallet. "Robyn Ellen Bergan, 30 Delaware Street, apartment number two."

A look of surprise crossed her face, but was replaced by the anger again. "How dare you!" she said glaring at him. "How fucking dare you go through my personal property!"

"I'm sorry." he said, tossing her the wallet. "It was just that you were unconscious........."

"What the fuck happened to me?!" she asked forcefully, cutting him off.

"You fell down a flight of stairs." he answered. "It's all my fault."

Robyn looked confused. She rubbed her throbbing head. "Where am I?"

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"You're in my ship, the Phoenix."

"Ship?" She looked like her strength was failing her.

"It's hard to explain, please sit." he said, gesturing to a nearby stool. "You look like you're about to collapse."

Suspiciously, she moved over to the stool and sat down.

"Here," he said, taking a small bottle off the pilot's console and tossing it to her. "it'll help your headache."

She caught the bottle, but made no attempt to open it. " How do I know this isn't something to put me out again."

"Damn it," he said in frustration, "I said I meant you no harm."

She still refused to open the bottle.

"Fine, then just sit there and suffer." he said, shaking his head.

"Tell me what the hell's going on." she said pointedly.

"That's a long story."

"Just stop the double talking shit and tell me!" she told him, infuriated.

So, The Traveler told her about his mission. He told her about the events leading up to his attack in the courtyard; of course, altering the story so he would not have to tell her about her resemblance to Tya. "....After everyone was blinded. I had a few minutes to think about the situation. I realized I needed help to complete my mission, given the fact that every student in the college would now be a trap waiting to go off at the sight of me. It was then I decided to grab someone and convince them to help me."

"And I was the lucky choice." she said, very unenthusiastically. "But you still haven't explained where

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the stairway comes into this."

"I was just getting to that." he told her. "Well, I knocked you out and was carrying you back here to the Phoenix. Unfortunately, you started to wake up as I was going down the stairs. You started to fight me, I lost balance, and you fell."

"I kind of remember something about that....." she said, absently rubbing her head as she thought.

"Then you believe me?"

"No, Master," Rifc said from his socket, "she does not."

"Who said that?" Robyn asked, looking around in surprise and fear.

"From analyzing her internal and external responses," Rifc told him, "such as blood pressure and body movements. I have come to the conclusion that she believes that you are mentally unbalanced and even possibly dangerous."

"But I keep telling her I mean her no harm."

"Who the fuck is that?" Robyn asked, panic in her voice. "Where is he?"

"He's over here." The Traveler told her, pointing at Rifc's socket.

"Don't screw with my head!" she said, anger mixing with her fear. "I want to know how you're pulling this off."

"I'm really not trying to deceive you." he said, trying to calm her. "Come over and take a look."

She eyed him suspiciously.

"I won't move." he said, clasping his hands and placing them on his lap. "You can keep an eye on me the whole time."

"I took self defense." she informed him, watching him as she moved up to the pilot's area. "You so much

as move a finger and I'll kick the shit out of you."

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She took a quick look at the console. "What is it some kind of microphone setup?"

"No, Mistress Robyn," Rifc said, using his anti-gravity unites to float himself out of his socket. "I am quite real."

Panicing, Robyn jumped back, fell on her rear, and started to scoot back towards the rear of the ship.

"Please, Mistress, get up." the floating robot said. "That is not an appropriate place for a lady."

"Please," The Traveler pleaded, "I'll prove we mean you no harm."

"How the fuck did you do that?" she asked, getting up and continuing to back away a bit more. "I don't see no wires."

"Amazing, Master," Rifc said, lowering back into his socket, "even after seeing me she still does not believe."

"Some humans are that way, Rifc." The Traveler admitted. "They won't believe even if the proof is right in before their eyes. Our own people have the same problem. That's why we're here now."

Then he looked over at Robyn. "I give up, Miss Bergan. I can see that anything I show you will be interpreted as false. Therefore, I'll take you home and we can go our separate ways."

"That's not necessary." she said. "Just let me out of here."

"No, I insist." The Traveler said. "I've inconvenienced you. The least I can do is make sure you get home safe." Then he smiled disarmingly at her. "Plus I already know your address."

Before Robyn could protest further The Traveler turned to Rifc and told him the address. "....and take the aerial route, Rifc." The Traveler ordered, giving the

small robot a wink.

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"Understood, Master."

He turned back to Robyn. "Please have a seat up front. We may need you to guide us."

"Whatever," she said, shaking her head in frustration and sitting in the co-pilot's chair. "but, as I said, you try anything funny and you'll have your hands full."

"Going off manual." The Traveler said, pressing a button on the console. He watched Robyn as she saw, her mouth gaping, the steering wheel fold up and slide into a compartment under the console. "Take us out, Rifc, the usual precautions."

"Affirmative."

The Traveler saw the view out the window blur as the invisibility field formed around the ship. Then, there was a slight lurch and the ship started to rise.

The Traveler saw Robyn go pale.

"What the fuck's going on?" she asked, the knuckles on her hands going white as she held the armrests of the chair in a death grip.

"Well, I did say we were going the aerial route." he reminded her, smiling.

"This can't be fucking real."

"That's what I'm trying to prove to you, it's all real. I'm not lying. I mean it when I say I need your help."

"Fine, you've proved it." she said, holding her hand up to her mouth. "Can you just land this thing before I puke."

"Well, Rifc?"

"We are approaching our destination, Master."

"That fast?" Robyn said, taking her hand away from her mouth, her sickness forgotten, and looking out the window at the streets below.

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Cheryl Johns, alias Madam Arabella, reshuffled her deck of Tarot cards and put them back in their box. She'd just finished with a customer and was getting ready to have some herbal tea, which was a tradition with her after a reading. Though this was one of those times when she wished she had something stronger.

The reading had gone very badly. Her customer had had preformed ideas on how her reading was going to turn out. Unfortunately for Cheryl, the cards had other ideas. The woman argued with her continuously on every little detail. Cheryl had had to reshuffle the cards three times, and still the woman wasn't satisfied. Finally, Cheryl was forced to give up. The woman left in a huff and even forgot, more than likely on purpose, to leave any money on Cheryl's gift plate.

Well, Cheryl thought, at least I don't have to make a living out of this. She'd been lucky in that respect, because her brother owned the apartment building and gave her the job of managing the place, with rent and utilities free. He also threw in a small, and she meant small, wage.

The job made her responsible for maintaining the building, which meant she was the one who had to do all the plumming and structural repairs. Her brother

hated shelling out good money for anything professional, especially when he had his dear sister available to do it for free.

Even with her numerous duties she still liked doing psychic readings as a sideline. It was something to break the tedium of being what amounted to a live-in babysitter for the twelve residents of the apartment building. Most of the time she did well at it. She had several regulars, mostly bored housewives. She had enough money from what her patrons left as gifts to subsidize her income. But there was always times when she'd get some

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subsidize her income. But there was always times when she'd get some skinflint or asshole who spoiled the fun.

Blowing out the black candle that was setting on the kitchen table, she got up, went over, and started to open the curtains next to the front door to let some light in her dull one room apartment. She knew the view wouldn't be very uplifting, the window looked out on the empty parking area. Still it was better than nothing.

Pulling the curtains back she saw something that made her stop in mid-motion. Lowering into the parking area was a large half transparent and distorted image. She stood stunned as the image configured into a motorhome. She watched as the motorhome's wheels slid out from under it and locked into position just before it landed.

She pulled the curtains closed again to give herself a moment to think clearly. Could it be an optical illusion, or had her job finally made her crack? If it was an illusion would it still be there when she opened the curtains again?

She peeked through the curtains and found that indeed it still was sitting in the parking area. She watched as the vehicle's door opened and a man wearing a beatup looking Panama hat came out. Then, to her immense surprise, her friend, and fellow resident, Robyn Bergan came out of the motorhome just after the man.

She watched as Robyn paused, looking at the motorhome, and made a comment to the man, though Cheryl couldn't make out a word that was said. Then, Robyn led the man in the direction of her apartment, which was the other ground level apartment on the other end of the building.

This peaked Cheryl's interest. She'd read stories of unknown phenomena all her life, but to actually have it happen in her own front yard, so to speak, was something else. She

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She had to find out what was going on. The only way to do that was to pay Robyn a little visit, even if the thought made her nervous.

The Traveler had to admit as he entered Robyn's one room apartment that it fit it's occupant. The dirty sky blue walls were plastered with posters of Rock and Punk bands. The bed, which he'd almost tripped over as he came in, was simply a mattress laying on the floor with a single pillow and blanket. Next to the bed was a beaten up looking white dresser and an excessively mended looking faded brown recliner chair.

Robyn escorted him to a ragged looking faded brown cloth couch. He had a seat and found that the couch was also lumpy. To his right he noticed a scraped up endtable with a dirty white ginger jug style lamp on top of it.

Robyn dropped into the recliner, sending a light puff of dust into the air and causing the chair to make a sound like it had gas. She was still a bit pale from her flight in the Phoenix. "I still can't believe it." she said. "I'm actually sitting here with a fucking alien."

"Believe it," The Traveler said, " and believe I mean what I said about Warliam."

"But...? she started to ask when she heard a knock at the door. "Who the fuck is that? I'm supposed to still be at the college."

She went over and answered the door. "Cheryl," she said upon opening the door, "how'd you know I was here?"

"I saw you and your...friend arrive ......."

"What!" Robyn said, interupting her.

"....and wanted to come to say hi." Cheryl finished.

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"You might as well invite her in, Miss Bergan." The Traveler suggested. "If she saw us arrive she must have a few questions."

"As a matter of fact," Cheryl said, squeezing past Robyn,"I do."

The Traveler gestured for Cheryl to sit on the couch with him. Robyn went back to the recliner and started to rub her head. "You got any of those

painkillers with you?" she asked.

The Traveler took a bottle out of his pocket and tossed them to her. "I thought you might need them after the excitement wore off."

Robyn opened the bottle and took a pill. Immediately she said, "Wow, these things are fast."

The Traveler smiled and looked over at Cheryl. "And now to introductions."

"Cheryl Johns," Robyn said, "This is.........I'm sorry, I can't pronounce your name."

"Flink Plexhah." The Traveler said. "but if you like you can call me The Traveler, it's sort of a nickname I came by."

"That's cute." Cheryl said, amused. "I like that."

"It fits too, Cheryl," Robyn admitted, " because he's a time traveller from outer space."

Cheryl seemed to take it in stride. "I thought it had to be something like that." she said.

"Cheryl's the manager of this apartment building." Robyn continued.

"And I do psychic readings." Cheryl added, proudly."You know, palms, Tarot, zodiac, the works. My business name is Madam Arabella."

"Oh." The Traveler said, impressed. "I've come across a few psychics in my time." Though none that looked like you, he wanted to say.

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Most of the psychics The Traveler had known looked like the traditional Gypsy fortune teller. Cheryl was a far cry from that.

She was tall and thin with short cut blond hair, but not as garish as Robyn's. She wore a blue jean coat, a tie-dyed Tshirt with 'NATIONAL PSYCHIC CONVENTION 1990' printed in red letters on it, blue jeans, and white tennis shoes. She also had on pyramid earrings and a medallion that had a pyramid on it with a clear crystal set into it.

"What brings you to San Mareno?" Cheryl asked.

"It's a bit complex." The Traveler admitted.

"Well, if it's gonna be a long story we might as well listen to it over a cup of tea." she said, looking over at Robyn.

"I'm all out." Robyn said.

"Luckily, I was just thinking about having a cup when you arrived." she said, pulling a small box of herbal tea outfrom under her coat.

After a few minutes preparation, all three of them were again seated sipping herbal tea. The image amused The Traveler. It was so casual and sociable. It seemed totally inconsistant with the matter they had to discuss.

"It began a little over a hundred years ago my time, which would be almost one thousand five hundred and fifty-seven years in your future. My friend and colleague, Warliam Nathbak, had just returned from a mission to record your planet's history from the year 2000 thru the year 3000 A.D........"

"Why are your people so interested in Earth's history?" Cheryl asked, cutting him off.

"My people are compiling a complete history of the known Universe. Everything from technological advances to sociological development."

"Oh," Cheryl said, nodding her head, "so your people've been visiting us for a long

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time."

The Traveler nodded. "Even before the dinosaurs."

Cheryl made a silent "oh" with her lips.

"But I'm straying." The Traveler admitted. "...Warliam hadn't been himself after returning from Earth. He seemed preoccupied and disturbed. He kept going on about how the future of our home planet was in jeopardy.

"When I confronted him about it he confessed that he'd violated orders and ventured into the future, which is something we're not allowed to do." The Traveler looked down at the floor and shook his head. "The Council of Space/Time Research made that rule for fear that foreknowlege of our own future could be as dangerous as one of us changing the past." He looked up and smiled, but it wasn't a pleasant smile. "We definitely learned the wisdom of that rule."

"But what was it that he found out about the future?" Robyn asked, this had been the one part of the story he hadn't told her earlier.

The Traveler looked at Robyn like he didn't understand the question. "What?" But then he shook off the reverie that posessed him. "....uh...I'll come to that shortly." He went on to describe the incident in the council chambers. When it came to him talking about Tya's death he said, ".....My assistant was shot trying to protect me." And, for Cheryl's sake he went over Warliam's escape a hundred years later and how

the S.T.R. sent him to stop Warliam.

".....So you see," Robyn continued for him, "when The Traveler got to the college he found that this asshole had turned everyone into zombies programmed to beat the shit out of him when he showed his face."

"But how did he know it was going to be you they'd send?" Cheryl asked The

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Traveler.

"He knew I was the only one the S.T.R. would figure had any chance against him. You forget I've known him for hundreds of years. In that time it is a logical assumption that I'd know something about how he thinks."

"Yeah, but the same also can be said of him." Cheryl pointed out.

The Traveler shrugged. "Then you can say we're evenly matched." The Traveler looked toward Robyn and signaled for her to continue.

"Yeah, well," Robyn said, "The Traveler realized he needed help and you know the rest."

"You still haven't explained why Warliam feels he needs to destroy us."

"I realize that." The Traveler said, sighing. "You must understand that if I tell you anything about your planet's future I'm violating rules I made an oath to uphold."

"We understand," Cheryl said, "but you must understand that, if you want us to help you, we need to know what this is all about. You can't expect us to blindly go after this guy."

The Traveler pondered this for a few moments. "You're right." he said at last. " I wouldn't expect anything less for myself. But I reserve the option of blanking that information from your minds when this is all over."

Robyn and Cheryl looked at each other. Then they reluctantly agreed.

"In the time I come from your planet and atleast a third of the known universe is controled by an organization called the Monopolis." The Traveler said.

"You mean as in a monopoly?" Cheryl asked.

"Essentually, but much larger and more involved.In a monopoly one business controls

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a particular product or service. The Monopolis controls everything on Earth and on every planet under it's influence. There is no aspect of life on those planets it doesn't control.

"The majority of it's people are ranked into the worker class, which are given what few concessions the executive class is willing to give them...."

"But the ones who run the show live like kings." Robyn put in. "It sounds like the same old shit to me."

"Exactly," The Traveler admitted, "but on an entirely different level. In the time your living in now, government and business are two separate enitities. At times they may have the same agenda, but they are still separate. Under the Monopolis this separation doesn't exist. There is no govenment or business, all there is is the Monopolis. It's agenda controls everything,including the lives and liberties of it's people."

"Shit." Cheryl said. "It sounds like slavery to me."

"Essentially it is," The Traveler said, "with credit account bonuses and old age pensions."

"This is all very interesting but doesn't explain about Warliam." Cheryl pointed out.

"Aliens, under the rule of the Monopolis, are treated as property. They are stripped of their freedom and cultural identity. They're denied the few liberties the worker class terrans enjoy. They're assigned the work the executives feel is too demeaning or dangerous for human workers.

"Warliam saw how non-terrans were treated and started to realize that our people could easily be conquered and subjected to this existence."

"But that's no excuse to...." Robyn began to say, but The Traveler cut her off. "He saw it happen!" The Traveler blurted out.

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"He violated his oath and went to the future and saw them enslave our people and destroy our culture."

Both Robyn and Cheryl were silent for a few moments. Robyn was the first to speak. "As I was about to say," she said slowly, "that's no excuse for him to come to this time and try to harm my people."

"I agree." The Traveler said. "I'm just telling you his rationalization. I don't condone his actions. You know that."

"And what about your people?" Robyn asked. "I understand they had to deal with the shit about him breaking his oath and going into the future, but still he came to them with information that your planet and

culture was in danger. Why didn't they do something to help the situation?"

"When Warliam told them, they debated about long term methods to avoid the situation. He insisted that, given the amount of time we had, such methods wouldn't work. He was ignored and they continued to debate.

"Finally, in desperation, he brought the S.T.R. a proposal to make radical changes to the past in order to eliminate the problem by eliminating the Monopolis. This, of course, would mean that we'd have to go against all our rules and principles."

"Better that than lose your planet and culture." Cheryl stated. Robyn agreed.

"My people felt that we would be, in essence, becoming no better than the Monopolis if we tried to manipulate the history of your planet to protect our own interests."

"So what've your people done?" Cheryl asked.

"Unfortunitely, I've been out of the picture for a hundred years," The Traveler admitted, “But from what little I could ascertain during my brief time before leaving on

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this mission they've done next to nothing. I can honestly say that sending me after Warliam has been the most decisive thing so far.”

Both Cheryl and Robyn looked at him in disbelief. The Traveler had to admit to himself he shared their sentiment.

Before he'd headed to Overbase to get the Phoenix ready he'd checked the Council's database on the subject. He'd been shocked to find that the threat hadn't been given any serious discussion in over fifty years. As far as the Council of Space/Time Research was concerned the people of Vevetta II would deal with the Monopolis when it became a legitimate threat.

"But wouldn't that be too late......?" He heard Cheryl ask, realizing he'd been thinking out loud.

"......Uh, that's a bridge that'll have to be crossed when this is over." he told her, the thought less than comforting. "I know no matter what the S.T.R. will be less than supportive."

"Well, you're not alone in this situation." Cheryl said, smiling at him. "How can I help?"

"You can count on me too." Robyn said, adding her voice to Cheryl's.

"Thank you." he said, feeling a warm feeling go

up his spine. "I need to know what's going on at the college. I'll need you two to be my eyes since Warliam has made it extremely difficult for me to go myself."

"But I thought if we stepped a foot in that place we'd be zombized." Cheryl said.

"I'll take care of that." he said. "The real problem is time. My people weren't able to get a precise time fix on Warliam's time of arrival, so I don't know how advanced the situation is."

"What we really need is more people." Cheryl said. "Robyn and I just won't be able to cover enough ground if time is a constraint."

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"And where are we gonna find help?" Robyn asked her.

"What about that biker dude, Basher...uh... Smasher ...."

"You mean that loser Slasher." Robyn said, less than pleased at the mention of him. "I threw that bastard to the curb."

"Well, he's the type of ass kicker we might need." Cheryl said.

"Yeah, that fuckin' psycho..." Robyn said sarcastically.

"Could protect us in a bind." Cheryl said, cutting her off.

"Robyn," The Traveler cut in,"if this person can help wouldn't it be worth trying?"

Robyn sighed and shifted uncomfortably in the recliner. "Fine, I'll go see him."

"I'll come with you to explain the situation." The Traveler said.

Robyn looked at The Traveler in surprise. "You?" she said, trying to stifle a laugh. "You'd be lucky to get away with all your limbs attached."

"That's a risk I'll just have to take." he said, giving her a determined look.

Robyn nodded at The Traveler, giving him a look of amused regard. "Don't forget I warned you."

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Chapter Nine

THE ORION CLUB

It was around nine o'clock at night when Robyn and The Traveler arrived at the nightclub where they were going to meet Robyn's former boyfriend, a biker named Douglass "Slasher" Simmons. Robyn had informed The Traveler that the club mainly catered to bikers and Punk rockers. It was located in the basement of a building on the city's old Main street.

Examining the building, The Traveler figured it probably dated back to the early beginnings of San Mareno. Though the brick building had been altered over the years, he noticed it still retained the clamshell edgings and other flowery designs along it's roof from it's past.

The entrance to the club was located around the building's left side corner, next to the entry ramp for the two level public parking lot in the rear. There was a small neon lighted sign next to the entrance that spelled out the name ORION CLUB in red lights. But The Traveler figured the sign would garner little interest from people passing on the street. No, he thought as Robyn and he edged their way past two bikers who had parked their motorcycles too close to the entrance, this place has a very specific clientele.

The Traveler followed Robyn down a narrow flight of stairs. Coming out onto the club floor his senses were accosted by the smell of cigarette smoke and rancid liquor mixed with the blaring sound of Heavy Metal music. It amazed him that people could find such an environment enjoyable.

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The Traveler felt eyes on him as they passed between two beat up pooltables where several bikers and punks were playing. He saw a few of the players look up and heard a few snickers.We must look like quite a couple. he thought.

"Couldn't you've left that damned hat at home?" Robyn said, looking at him and shaking her head.

"I thought punks appreciated individuality?" he said, looking at her questioningly.

The Traveler had to admit that the word individual definitely described the attire Robyn had chosen for the evening. She still wore her leather jacket, mini skirt, torn stockings, and dog collars, but she now included knee high black leather boots and a white shirt with razor cuts across it; giving an unobstructed view of the black bra she wore underneath.

"Yeah, but there are still some things even we won't tolerate." she admitted.

As they made their way through the crowded, half lit, lounge area The Traveler noticed that most of the tables and chairs, though painted black, were different styles. He was surprised to find that many of the chairs didn't even match the ones they were paired with. Each table had a lit white votive candle on top of them. The Traveler figured the candles were used more as an aid for customers to find their seats than for decoration.

The Traveler also noticed he was getting odd looks from the occupants of the tables as he passed. It started to become obvious to him that Robyn might have been right about the hat. But there was little he could do about the problem at this juncture. He'd just have to tolerate the attention.

Robyn led him over to the bar, which took up must of the left wall. It was lit with greenish colored lighting, which The Traveler found did little to accent

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the rows of bottles gracing the bar's shelves.

They seated themselves on a couple of well worn black bar stools. Robyn attracted the attention of the lone bartender. "Hey, Boozman, how about a brew, or do I have to serve myself."

Boozman was tall and lanky with a heavy graying black beard and long hair, which was tied in a ponytail in the back. He had a gaunt weathered face with a long straight nose on which he wore a pair of gold rimmed, round lensed, spectacles. Around his head he had on an Indian style head band. He also had on a black Harley-Davidson T shirt and a pair of worn jeans.

"Anything for a lady." he said, smiling, his voice uncharacteristically soft spoken. He placed a sizable beer mug of draft beer in front of her. "And for your friend?"

"Coffee.......cream and sugar, please." The Traveler said, getting an odd glance from the both of them. "I don't drink." he offered as an explanation.

"Well, once you taste the coffee you'll wish you did." Boozman said, with amusement.

"Has Slasher been in?" Robyn asked.

"Slasher.....?" Boozman said, surprised by the question. "I thought you were through with him."

"We have business." she said.

"He and Cindy should be in sometime tonight."

The Traveler noticed Robyn's face color. Her pale face was noticeably redder.

"We'll wait." she said stiffly.

Boozman returned with the coffee and The Traveler found out how right he was about it, it was disgusting. He decided, though, not to offend his host, so he finished the cup without comment.

As they waited, The Traveler found out that Boozman, whose real name was Yoel Alvirez, was the owner of the Orion Club and a former Hell's Angel. Boozman told him

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that he'd originally opened the Orion, which was then under a different name, in the sixties as a place for his biker friends to hang out. But later he found that when the Punk and New Wave craze began more of those groups started coming in, so he changed the name of the place to suit his expanding clientele.

"But it's this gal here who keeps a lot of them coming." Boozman said, looking over at Robyn and smiling.

The Traveler gave Robyn a puzzled look.

"She didn't tell you about her singing here?" Boozman asked. "Well, come on, Rob, give us a song."

The Traveler gave her another look. "Rob?"

Robyn gave The Traveler a return glance, but didn't say anything.

"I'll give you free drinks for the night." Boozman offered.

"What the hell," Robyn said, getting off her stool, "but just until Slasher gets here."

Boozman agreed.

The Traveler watched as Robyn went to the back of the club, which was dominated by the stage. On the stage was a large complex looking synthesizer. On the wall above the synthesizer were four rear projection screens.

When Robyn got on stage the Heavy Metal music was shut off. Then, the stage lights came on and all attention was focused on her. She paused for a moment to punch some commands into her synthesizer. Suddenly, there was a blare of synthesized drums and

electric guitars. Robyn started to sing and play the keyboard.

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We can't tell What's fact

from fiction.

Your brain boils with

the realization.

It would be easy

if you ignored it.

Find a hole and

crawl in it.

But that ain't the way

for all of us.

Some must hear

the call and

live in

the real world.......

The Traveler was surprised. He'd thought it would be just a blast of noise, like the Heavy Metal music that had been playing, but Robyn's music had depth and emotion. She stood on the stage and sang with her heart and soul. He had to admit that though he had never been a fan of popular music, he found Robyn's music oddly entrancing. But, of course, it could just be the performer.

As the song progressed, though, The Traveler found his attention become more and more fixed on Robyn's synthesizer. The device was more complex than he figured was possible at this point in time. It duplicated the sounds of musical instruments so perfectly that even his trained ear couldn't tell the difference.

Then, three of the rear projection screens came on. On them were computer generated images of Robyn's face. Each of them seemed to be singing backup for Robyn.

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At one point in the song Robyn paused and the synthesizer duplicated the sound of a fifty piece orchestra. Then, the fourth rear projection screen came on and a negative image of Robyn with a robotic voice added itself to the virtual backup singers.

The Traveler sat totally enthralled.The technology presented in this display was years ahead of it's time.

Ten songs, and about an hour and a half later, The Traveler was still sitting at the bar drinking disgusting coffee and listening to Robyn sing. Robyn took a couple short breaks between songs and had a couple beers. It amazed The Traveler how she was able to down her drinks as if they were water without them having a visible affect on her. When he asked her about it the only explanation she gave was that singing made her thirsty.

About a quarter of the way through the next song, The Traveler noticed Robyn motioning for him to look back toward the entrance. He got her meaning immediately and took a look. Over at the far end of the lounge area a couple was just taking their seats. He knew these were the people he and Robyn had been waiting for.

The man was a large, muscular, African American, who was dressed completely in leather. He had a shaved head and a gold earring in his left ear. The woman accompanying him was comparably muscular and wore a leather vest, black Harley T shirt, tight fitting jeans, and heavy built biker boots. She had flaming red dyed hair that was shaved off on the sides.

The Traveler headed over to the couple's table, figuring it might make a stronger first impression with Robyn's former boyfriend and his companion if he introduced himself on his own. "Mr. Simmons," he said when he got to the table, "I'm an acquaintance of

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Robyn Bergan's and I'd like to talk to you about something very important."

Slasher Simmons and his companion, who The Traveler recalled Boozman said was named Cindy, looked The Traveler up and down. Slasher glared up at him, making it obvious that he wasn't pleased to meet him. "I don't give a fuck what you got to say. You're messin' up me and my girlfriend's view. Get your white ass out of here."

"But Mr. Simmons."

"Are you fuckin' deaf." Slasher said, getting up from his chair. "For one thing, I hate when wheenie assed white shits like you call me Mr. Simmons." he pushed The Traveler, sending him bumping up against the people at the next table. The people voiced their complaints. "For another," Slasher went on, "if you don't get the fuck away from me I'm gonna kick you whimped ass all over this fuckin' place!"

"This really isn't necessary. What I have to say...."

Slasher grabbed The Traveler by his shirt. Then he looked over at his companion and shook his head. "This fucker just won't get the message." He cocked his fist in preparation to clobber The Traveler, but someone grabbed his arm.

"Don't even think about it." Robyn said coldly, releasing him. "He's with me."

The Traveler was surprised. In all the excitement he hadn't noticed that the music stopped.

Slasher reluctantly let go of The Traveler and, still glaring at him, returned to his seat.

The Heavy Metal music started up again. The Traveler figured Boozman must have had a switch behind the bar.

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"You came just in time." The Traveler said, straightening his rumpled shirt and retrieving his hat from the floor.

"That was stupid." she said angrily "I told you he wasn't someone to fuck with."

"Sorry."

"I'd call it suicidal." she said, still fumed. "Now let me do all the talking. Just keep out of it."

The Traveler reluctantly nodded.

Following her lead, The Traveler headed around the table to face Slasher and Cindy and seated himself next to Robyn. Both Slasher and Cindy seemed less than thrilled by the company.

"I'm not sitting with that bitch!" Cindy said, getting up from the table.

"Sit your ass down." Slasher said, glaring up at her. "I'm not goin' through this shit again."

"Every time she wiggles her ass....!"

"Shut the fuck up!" he warned her.

Slasher and Cindy locked stares for a few moments, but finally Cindy slammed herself down in her seat and scowled at Robyn.

Slasher looked over at Robyn. "Well, let's get on with this shit. What's so important?"

Robyn told Slasher about The Traveler's mission and about what was happening at the college.

When she finished, Slasher looked at her and said, "What shit are you on?"

"I'm serious, asshole." Robyn said angrily "You know damn well I'm no fuckin' druggie!"

"Well, you sound like you're on one hell of a trip."

“She's telling the truth.” The Traveler interjected.

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--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "You keep your mouth shut, white boy." Slasher warned. "You're the sick fuck who's puttin' this shit in her head."

"Damn it, Slasher." Robyn said, slamming her fist on the table in frustration, "Haven't you heard a word I've said. I was there. I was one of those fuckin' zombies. The Traveler dragged me out of there."

The Traveler could see from the looks Cindy and Slasher were giving her that they weren't listening. Though Robyn had suggested he not get involved, The Traveler decided he couldn't let this farce continue. "If you're so certain this is all a drug fantasy, why don't you see for yourself and prove it?" he said.

"I warned you, asshole." Slasher said, standing and glaring down at The Traveler.

"I'm not gonna sit here and listen to you call us nuts." he said, standing and locking eyes with Slasher himself. "What is it, tough guy? Are you afraid that we might prove you wrong?"

Slasher lunged at The Traveler over the table. The Traveler stood his ground.

"Will you grow up!" Robyn yelled in his face. "Fuckin' immature asshole."

Slasher paused and glared at Robyn. "And this fucker's so much better."

"I told you why he's here." She said. "Stop this jealousy crap. I said we need your help. This is serious."

Slasher angrily slammed himself back in his seat. "Fine, whatever!" he said after a few moments.

"Does that mean you'll help us?" Robyn asked.

"Yeah," he said, "but if this fucker's jerking my wang his ass is mine." he indicated The Traveler.

"Wait one minute." Cindy said angrily. "I'm not gonna sit here and let you go running around with that bitch!" She glared at Robyn.

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"Get this straight," Robyn told her, "I don't want him. I threw his ass out."

"And now you're back." Cindy said. "How do I know you won't change your mind."

"Fine." Robyn said, "If you're so paranoid, why don't you just come along and watchdog him?"

"That's fine with me." The Traveler said. "We could use the help."

Both women and Slasher looked at him in stunned disbelief.

"I'm serious." The Traveler said, ignoring the looks they were giving him. "I was actually about to make that suggestion myself."

"Whatever!" Robyn said, with a frustrated sigh. Cindy mirrored Robyn's reaction.

The Traveler looked at the two women and realized he might have made a mistake.

Both women were silent and kept their eyes averted from each other as The Traveler closed the meeting by arranging for all of them to meet outside Robyn's apartment in the morning.

Then, without preamble, Robyn and The Traveler left.

"Well, that was interesting." The Traveler said when they got outside the club and started to head for the shadows of the parking area.

Robyn didn't say anything. it was obvious she was still fumed after her run in with Cindy.

"I must tell you I really enjoyed your singing." he said, changing the subject. "And your synthesizer is quite a piece of engineering. May I ask where you got it?"

"My brother built it." she said, "He's a real genius with computers and that sort of crap."

"Really," His interest was pecked, "he could be of some help to us." He looked at

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--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- her questioningly, "Why haven't we contacted him?"Robyn smiled, but without humor. We're not on speaking terms. It would probably be a waste of time."

"But given the circumstances......" He cut himself off when he saw the look on Robyn's face. It was obvious she and her brother had had quite a falling out. He didn't go into it any further.

They remained silent all the way back to the car.

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Chapter Ten

THE NIGHTMARE

The Traveler knew he was having the nightmare again, not that that knowledge helped him any. He was once again back in the council chamber facing Warliam. He was just about to hit the barrel of the blaster rifle, which would cause him to get shot. Like all the other times He'd had the dream, he knew he couldn't stop himself.

"Damn you, Flink, I've had enough of you debating with me!" Warliam said, as always, aiming the rifle between The Traveler's eyes. "Either you get back over with the others or I'll kill you."

The Traveler went through the motions he'd done thousands of times in the dream, he hit the barrel with a cross stroke of his right hand. The blaster went off, searing his left shoulder in the process. Realistic pain shot through his arm as the impact knocked him to the floor. Why do I always have to suffer this pain every time? he questioned himself.

Warliam stood over him with the same shocked expression he always wore.

Then The Traveler saw Tya. But no, the person who came out of the crowd was dressed in Punk rocker garb. Oh, the Creator, his mind screamed, it's Robyn!

Then, suddenly, the council chamber started to blur and change around him. He found himself laying on the walkway in the courtyard where he first saw Robyn. The shocked council members transformed into the glaze eyed students who had attacked him before. They stood around him in a circle blankly watching the action.

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Warliam was still standing over him, but now in place of the shocked look he'd had earlier was a sadistic grin.

The Traveler looked frantically at Robyn who was now running towards him. "No.....!" he screamed.

Still grinning, Warliam spun around and shot Robyn.

The Traveler could only lay and watch as the energy bolt, as it had to Tya, opened Robyn's chest and cauterized a large hole in it. Robyn crumbled and laid sprawled on the ground.

The Traveler looked up at the grinning face of Warliam and screamed, "No......!"

Warliam stopped smiling, a look of pity showed on his face. "But don't you understand, Flink, you can't change what's already happened."

The Traveler screamed.......

The Traveler felt hands restraining him as he woke. "Robyn!" he cried, tears burning his eyes, blurring his vision.

Then as his vision started to clear he saw her bending over him. "No, your dead!" he yelled at what he thought was an apparition of Tya. He pulled away from her and curled up into a fetal position on the couch. "I'm sorry.....," he said, tears streaming down his face, "I'm sorry I wasn't able to save you!"

"Traveler, it's all right, I'm not dead." she said, taking him in her arms like a child afraid of the dark.

Then it hit him She'd called him Traveler. Tya never called him that. This was Robyn. Oh, the Creator! he thought remembering what he'd said to her.

"It's ok," she said, gently rocking him, his head against her bare breast.

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Her bare breast! The Traveler realized, getting hard at the thought of it. She was naked except for a pair of black panties!

He immediately pulled away from her again. This was definitely not a situation he wanted to be in.

She sat on the edge of the couch with a shocked expression on her face. He could see her perfectly because the lamp on the side table next to the couch was on. She must have turned it on when she first heard him screaming in his sleep. Sitting there almost totally exposed, without her garish makeup, the resemblance to Tya was shattering.

The Traveler had to use all the will power he could master to keep from crying again. "I'm fine now." he said, his voice hoarse.

She bent forward and he pulled back, though he had little room to move. "Damn it, I said I was fine!"

his voice was tinged with anger.

"The hell you are." Robyn said. "Just look at you, you're still shaking."

The Traveler hadn't realized it, but now that Robyn had made him aware of it he noticed he was indeed shaking. "I'll be fine. It was just a nightmare." He forced his voice to sound calm.

"The hell it was. You were screaming so bad I'm surprised the neighbors haven't called."

"It's over now." He tried to sound reassuring. "And we both need our sleep."

"You were screaming my name." she said concerned. "Did it have to do with me going to the college tomorrow?"

“It was just a dream. I'm starting to forget it as we speak.” He said. “Forget it.”

"You said I was dead!" she said pointedly, her 112

concern turning to anger. "How the fuck am I gonna forget it?"

The Traveler, in answer, turned off the lamp and pushed himself back into sleeping position, facing away from her.

"Fuck!" she exclaimed, as she got up from the edge of the couch and headed back to bed.

The rest of the night Robyn wasn't able to sleep. What The Traveler said in his dream bothered her too much.

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RETURN