An Open Connection of the Heart

An Open Connection of the Heart

Arwen Jayne

Copyright © 2017 Arwen Jayne

All rights reserved

While reference has been made to some actual historical events or persons and some real locations all other names, characters and places are fictional; the product of the author's overly imaginative mind. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses or places is purely coincidental.

Disclaimer

This is a piece of fiction, enjoy it but if you’re looking for science facts you might find it lacking. The story is purely a creation of my imagination.

Acknowledgements

To all my friends, fans and family for their ongoing encouragement. Jen for the long chats on metaphysics, editing and pushing me to always go one better. Special thanks as always to my life partner who makes my time on the computer possible. Thanks to NASA for the great photo from their image library: Whirlpool Galaxy images-assets.nasa.gov/image/PIA04230/PIA04230~orig.jpg

My use of this image does not represent any endorsement of the story by NASA.

1

Some months earlier...

Another long night shift. Not that there was much to watch out for. It was a bare lifeless planet, well mostly. There was nothing out in the vast expanse, above ground, that might threaten their underground city. Not unless you counted the alien newcomers who’d set up a nearby mine. The general consensus was they were only after the planet’s minerals and as the old city was in a mineral poor area they’d been dismissed as a concern, at least until they decided to expand their operations. The hard truth was there were too few defenders to remove the intruders from the planet or even fend them off if they decided to invade.

On Seren’s console green lights blinked happily showing all was well in the catacombs below. Although recently there had been some troubling glitches. Some said it was the fact that the stasis pods were so old. They were starting to fail. Seren didn’t think so. She had her own theories but she was careful who she told. Fancy some Earth TV?

Antal looked up from his monitors, interested. Sure, what’s on tonight?

Seren pulled up an international list of programs she’d hacked into. There’s a wildlife doco on the Beeb.

Nah, seen one polar bear seen them all.

Damn, she’d been hoping to watch that one. Maybe she’d watch it on the internet later. What about the latest vampire movie?

Are you kidding? They so can’t get the facts right, can they?

It’s fiction. It's not meant to be accurate.

No, just no.

Okay, what about a cooking show?

Why? We don’t eat that shit.

No. But it was fun watching the high drama of the contestants as they competed to make their flambes and their bombe alaskas. News then? Although I have to say it's mostly just a mix of government sponsored propaganda, the lives of the rich and famous, electioneering and a sales pitch for their latest gadgets, cures and plans. A bit of that ritualized warfare they call sport and what’s happening with their weather.

Yeah, I know what you mean. What’s on the alt channels?

The Republic of Karpathia has a current affairs program looking into that recent attack on the presidential palace. And there’s the Boswell Alternative News update followed by another in depth analysis of the attack and how the President got help from Boswell’s paramilitary to guard his country and fight off insurgents while he and two close confidents pursued some ancient secret, nearly getting killed in the process.

Sounds interesting. Seems to be the news of the hour. Let’s see what the Boswell lot have got to say.

Seren found the source just as Boswell was replaying the President’s address to his small country. Hey. Look isn’t that ... ?

Hell, I don’t believe it. It’s a Lyrean. He’s the president of Karpathia? Antal squinted at the screen, making sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks. Well I’ll be damned!

It wouldn’t be the first time that Boswell Alt News have interviewed other sentient species. The subtitles say he’s Zakar son of Bog.

Antal’s eyes widened. Not just because Seren had apparently learned to read the alien script but what it meant. That’s the old leader’s son. One of those who absconded with our last remaining functional spaceship and fled to Earth. Still alive. It’s a wonder. What would that make him?

At least as old as us.

Yeah that is old. Antal’s focus shifted to a digital readout on his console. That’s strange. The old pyramid.

What of it?

It’s giving off energy.

Not that she didn’t believe him but she had to see for herself. Seren leaned over his shoulder and frowned. So it is. What do you think it means?

Dunno but I think we’d better check it out in the morning after our shift change.

As the pale light of the sun rose on the old settlement it was obvious that something more than an activation of the old five sided pyramid had occurred during the night.

The ground’s gone purple, Seren noted.

Only in patches but it seems to be spreading. Look over there, it's growing, even as we speak.

It was. Seren wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. She watched as Antal kitted up with binoculars, some specimen jars and his weapon.Where you going?

Just to the edge of the mining settlement. May as well see what that lot are up to while I’m at it.

Don’t let them see you Antal.

The man growled. What do you take me for anyway? A fool? I’ll be back before the freeze descends.

Seren had actually been trying to practise some of the care and sympathy she’d seen on Earth soap operas. Human emotional expressions fascinated her. Come to think of it she’d mostly seen concern used between those who humans called women who had bumps on their front not unlike hers, whatever those meant. Maybe the ones without bumps didn’t go in for expressions of concern so much. Or maybe it was her lack of skill. She tried again, this time toning it down a bit. Maybe it was just her use of his semi-formal designation he hadn’t liked. You’d better, Antal, or we’ll be chipping the icicles off you tomorrow morning.

Antal rolled his eyes. As if he didn’t know that too. The planet after dusk wasn’t known for its warmth. At noon, on the equator, in summer, yeah a lot of ifs, it might be pleasant. Might being the operative word, but by night the temperatures would be enough to freeze his obscure appendages off. Away from the equator, well that didn’t bear thinking about. But something weird had happened last night and he wasn’t about to sit around while a threat to them might exist out there. Last night’s pulse of energy was unheard of, at least not in many millennia. It had emanated from within the old pyramid that stood as a monument at the centre of the old city. It was all that remained above ground from the times before. The rest of the city was below ground, maintained and guarded by his kind. I'll be back by then. I just want to see that the pyramid is secure and check out that purple stuff that's appeared on the ground since last night. Take a few samples for the lab.

He headed out along the old promenade. It was a straight wide stretch of land that miraculously hadn't been covered by the sand and grit usually blown in by the massive storms that were the only sure feature of the planet's out of control weather.

If it had been winter he wouldn't have even dared venturing outside but it was their planet’s summer. He wouldn't instantly freeze. He had a few hours before he'd need to retrace his steps.

Red iron oxide dust covered mounds on the hillside. They had once been summer dwellings for the Lyreans who'd come to this planet, long before the cataclysm, escaping from their home galaxy. A voracious alien spreading across this sector of the universe like a virus had encountered the Lyreans, tried to rob and enslave them, and when that hadn't worked, had started destroying them. The alien species, the same parasitic species who now ran the adjacent mining camp, had bombed the Lyrean cities and simply taken over, bit by bit, pushing the Lyreans out until they had nowhere in their own galaxy to go. So the Lyreans had come here. And for a time, millennia in fact, it had been home. As had the other, smaller, nearby planet they’d colonized. They'd left the third planet from the sun alone as it already had its full share of sentient species including highly territorial primates, intelligent and playful ocean dwelling mammals, a small group of intergalactic travellers who had set up a base to practise their spirituality and an aloof etheric species that appeared to act as guardians of the resident plant life. Nova Lyrea and Sanctuary had been planets enough for the refugees. Sanctuary was further out and a bit colder but it had had thermal springs that gave them a means to exist there. Nova Lyrea had been easier to settle: a small planet with ample water, clean air, a magnetic field that had protected it from solar winds that might have otherwise ripped away their atmosphere. Cold at night, yes. Even the planet’s native wildlife bunkered down into whatever caves or holes they could find before the nightly freeze hit. The Lyreans had been cautious but respectful of the creatures that roamed the forests along the planet's equator. Forests that survived due to the natural antifreeze in the plants’ purple leaves.

Those forests were long gone, thanks to the enemy's well aimed comet that had destroyed the planet of Sanctuary and ripped away Nova Lyrea’s protective ionosphere. The radiation fallout from the so called comet had done the rest.

Both Lyrean settlements had had enough forewarning about what was barrelling through the universe to destroy them. The Sancturians had evacuated to the third planet but the Nova Lyreans, thinking they weren't in the direct line of the comet, had opted to stay, reinforcing the underground parts of their cities instead.

This was all that was left of Scyth, one of the five once great cities of Nova Lyrea. Illyr, Dubrv, Epidr and Buda had been the others but only those on this side of the planet, Illyr and Scyth survived in any form. Perhaps Epidr, but all communication had been lost with them so no-one knew.

Antal scouted around the old pyramid but there were no signs of any tracks. The entrance was secure. No one had been here. Or so it seemed. Yet there was no missing the strange purple patches on the ground. They definitely hadn’t been there before.

Lichen, algae, fungi…? He wasn’t sure what it could be. Nothing should be alive out here. Nothing had been alive here for tens of thousands of years. The only remaining life on the planet slept in crypts, deep in the catacombs of the city. The few Lyreans who remained were protected in suspended animation so they wouldn’t starve. Thankfully all Antal needed was the rays of the sun. His body made whatever it needed from that energy. Fifteen minutes in the noon day sun was all that was needed or the equivalent under a sunlamp.

Few of his kind ventured this deep into the old aboveground city anymore but reconnaissance was his job.

The more he looked at the purple stuff the more it played tricks with his mind. It wasn’t just growing. Was it moving as well? It was surely closer to him than it had been a moment ago. Something about it was wrong. He stomped his foot and the stuff paused its advance for a moment, as if assessing him. Yeah right. It can’t think Antal, he mentally berated himself. Annoyed he kicked at it and that’s when it made its move. Suddenly misting into the air and enveloping him. It covered him like a thin film of purple dust. He tried to brush it away but it clung to him.

Antal’s heart rate climbed. He could feel its spores burrowing into him, becoming one with him. Fuck. He had to get it off. But it was already in him. He started running back to base but he knew it was too late. His mouth dried, his skin prickled, sweat bathed him as a burning heat raged within, his head feeling like it might split apart. Antal faced the fact. He couldn’t return. He couldn’t take the threat back with him.

While he still could he pulled out his communicator Scyth-Six Antal to Scyth-Eleven Seren.

Antal, found anything?

You could say that. He summed up his findings and then told her of his decision. It's becoming part of me. Consuming me. I have no choice. Goodbye.

Antal, wait! Seren screamed through the communicator.

But before he could lose his resolve he engaged the one thing he’d thought he’d never have to use, the self destruct on his armband. The blast vaporized him.

What was left of the purple stuff in the area retreated, leaving the old city to its protectors.

2

Callan woke with a sore throat and his lungs burning on fire. Damn. There was nothing for it.  Whether he had a virus breathing down his neck or not he needed to go to work to day.

There were rumours. Hell, there had been rumours for weeks. That didn’t mean anything was happening. Still, the only way he’d know for sure was to keep ahead of the rumours and that meant dragging his body out of bed, stepping out of his rented caravan and going to work.

Not having his beloved Audi, which he’d recently been forced to sell to pay some lawyers fees, he caught the crowded peak hour bus which dropped him off almost outside the door of his workplace. Callan looked at his watch. Time enough to make a cuppa before he needed to be ‘officially’ there. Not that his work was one of those places where you needed to logon and off, recording your presence down to the minute. Yet he did need to make a pretense of being there to work. The sad thing was the job, which he’d sort of fallen into it through a series of bad choices and events, paid well enough and was peopled with workmates nice enough that he didn’t look for anything else. He had to pay his three ex-wives maintenance somehow.

Yeah, his life choices hadn’t been wise ones. They’d seemed good at the time. Ten years ago he’d finished his PhD in Science, majoring in soil science and astrobiology. His thesis had kept him busy for years, studying the very small things that grow in dirt. That was how he explained it to those who ever asked. Saved watching their eyes glaze over.

The trouble was that when he finished his degree he’d been left with a mega dollar debt and no work in his chosen field. He could have moved to the States but at the time his first serious girlfriend had been expecting, or so she had said at the time. Turned out she’d been trying to maneuver him into marrying her. Her ploy had worked but any expectations of marital bliss had quickly fizzled. Sally had seen him as a prize catch, a smart, slightly nerdy...okay, a lot nerdy, scientist. When all he’d managed to get as a job out of uni had been an admin job in the public service her enthusiasm for him had quickly waned. Not the husband material she’d been hoping for. A year into their marriage she’d run off with a construction engineer and served divorce papers on him. That hadn’t been too much of a problem. If she wanted half his uni debt she was welcome to it.

His second wife he’d met at Friday night after work gossip sessions with his mates from work. Felicia had been their waitress. She’d seen a mild mannered, young, stably employed public servant as a nice safe bet and pursued him. Young male hormones being what they were he’d taken the bait she cast his way. Two years later they’d bored each other to death. They had nothing in common other than their sex life. She consumed reality TV and home renovation shows with a passion while he read his science mags and dreamed of wild, remote places, and digging in the dirt. What might have been. He amused himself by staying active on some of the online ecology and science forums, sharing ideas with others, yet it wasn’t the same as doing the work himself. But by then he’s risen through the ranks at work. His ready ability with crunching data was prized as an asset. An asset that meant he was both paid well and at the same time held firm in a metaphorical golden noose. As he and Felicia separated that noose tightened.

You’d think he’d have learned by then but when, less than a year later, he’d met Alys at an interstate conference, it had been, what had appeared at the time, to be love at first sight. Alys was intelligent and vivacious. No scientist but she had a mind for data and shared his career if not his missed vocation. After six frustrating months of chatting online she’d won a position with a international data consultancy that didn’t mind where she based herself as long as she didn’t mind travel and working from home online. She made the move interstate and they’d bought a house together. Then the trouble had started. An angel 99% of the time, once a month hormones raged. Not that that bothered him particularly. Like most men he knew it sometimes came with the territory. He kept a secret stash of chocolate on hand. Chocolates, flowers, cuddles and understanding had usually worked with his first two wives. The hormones weren’t the problem. The real trouble was that Alys had simmering issues. Issues she must have always had but had hidden well from the general public. Under all that confidence and vivaciousness was a massive inferiority complex that would implode like a virtual nuclear bomb if he asked something in the wrong tone, at the wrong time of the month. A day later she’d be begging for forgiveness but the truth was she needed help and most of the time she didn’t see the need until it was too late.

The cause of her problems became all too apparent when her father Geoffrey, a famed cosmologist, had came to visit. The snide bastard had looked down his nose and said so you’re in admin too?.

Callan hadn’t bothered explaining that data analysis was a bit more than admin. Instead he’d gotten out his chess board and asked him if he played.

The man had humphed.

I take it by that I don’t have to go easy on you because you’re my father-in-law?

Hardly

Three games later the man had glared at him and declared it was getting late. You’re just bloody lucky I’m tired from the flight down or I’d’ve wiped the board with you. I’m going to bed.

Alys had waited until her father had gone upstairs then came over to whisper to him, afraid to be heard, You just beat him three games to zero. I’ve never seen anyone do that.

Callan had shrugged. He was never going to like me anyway. But the pleasure of his victory was short lived as he caught the fleeting look of fear and awe in Alys’s eyes. Now she saw him as a greater threat to her self esteem than even her father.

Callan braved suggesting therapy but Alys had just stared at him like he’d grown a second head then stormed off. He decided if she wouldn’t then he would. There had to be something he could learn that would help.

The counsellor who took him on was a lovely lady by the name of Leigha. She’d taught him psychological first aid including reflective listening and the best ways to express empathy. Then she’d taught him mindfulness as part of a holistic mindfulness based stress reduction program to help him cope and give him the edge in thinking before reacting to Alys’s outbursts. For a time, what he’d learned helped. He was mindful of Alys’s triggers and mostly avoided them. Things seemed easier between them.

But I have to be blunt with you Callan, Leigha informed him after he’d briefed her on how things were going. What I’ve taught you may continue to take the edge off her responses but ultimately the will to change has to come from her. I fear she unconsciously seeks to set you up in a codependent relationship where you assume the role her father played in her childhood environment. Her subconscious is seeking the familiar and sadly that‘s someone who reinforces her low self esteem. It’s what she’s used to. Until she recognises the rut she’s in and seeks a solution she won’t change her patterns of response. I know you’re committed to her Callan but there is a danger that eventually she’ll wear you down and maneuver you into taking up the role of oppressor.

Never Leigha. I love her.

But the love and commitment hadn’t been enough.

One fateful August night Alys’d taken a kitchen knife to Callan, threatening to end his life. It had been her subconscious crying out one more time for help but