ABLE (Jim Able: Offworld Book 1) Ed Charlton (books on motivation TXT) 📖

fired a missile and brought the police vehicle down and, then, came after Jim. He leveled the terminal building and flew off.

Nearly a hundred people had died and as many were seriously injured. Jim had pulled several of them out of the wreckage with his own burnt hands.

***

It was a small detail that became a ten-month suspension from duty.

It was a recurrent nightmare that six months of counseling had not quieted.

Sopha was talking to him. He felt the rough skin of the Turcanian’s hand on the side of his head.

“James Able, are you unwell?”

“Huh? I’m fine.”

“There is something wrong, I think. You have, if not a sickness of body, a sickness of spirit!”

“No...it’s okay. It’s just that something you said triggered a...an unpleasant memory.”

Sopha continued to hold Jim by the side of his head and peer into his eyes. “I do not know enough about your race to know the way to treat sickness. But come here to the next room and sit awhile.”

He led Jim back to the fountain room and lowered him into a chair facing the dark expanse of the water. Jim’s host sat next to him and remained silent for several minutes.

“Tell me your memory.”

Jim thought for a moment, wondering if he should take this strange alien into his confidence. He felt disorientated, perhaps by the humidity, perhaps by the shock of finding the Regdenir not quite as ridiculous as Madhar had led him to expect. He knew he needed to regain control of this encounter, to get the information he needed, and leave. But it was too late. His rational mind was in suspension; his feelings had taken over.

“It was a small detail...and many people died.”

He told Sopha the whole story. At the end, he felt tired and sad. Sopha did not immediately make any comment.

“Do as I do,” he said quietly.

He got up and knelt at the edge of the water, his knees close to the edge of the floor where the shallow flow disappeared under the precisely cut tiling.

Jim did the same, feeling extremely self-conscious.

Sopha leaned forward and placed his hands flat on the stone underneath the flowing water. Jim followed and was surprised to find the water was chilled.

“Look at your reflection in the water.”

Jim looked and saw himself looking pale and shadowy.

“Now, take some water and wash it over your face.”

Sopha scooped up some water and allowed a small trickle to run over his bumpy head. Jim scooped a handful and let it drip into his hair.

“Our prayer for this translates to ‘Let this wash my darkness away.’ It is necessary for all to come here from time to time. There is nothing shameful in it.”

Jim nodded. They got up, and Sopha led the way through the classroom, where they had begun their meeting, into a large kitchen. Immediately his sons were in attendance. Sopha gave a few commands, and the three obeyed without uttering a word in reply.

This time, Sopha also took the drink provided. Jim enjoyed it, despite its green color and vinegary smell.

“Soon we shall begin our evening worship,” said Sopha. “I ask you to wait with your questions until then.”

Jim answered, “Okay, but tell me one thing in case I forget to ask you. Why did you call yourself ‘Edward’ rather than ‘Sopha’?”

Sopha smiled and sipped his drink.

“When I was first learning your language and mastering the techniques to interface with your computers, I found a database of names. I think it was intended for those expecting new offspring. In it, I found the name ‘Edward’ and a description. It said that it was a name associated with royalty, which the Regdenir consider themselves. It gave a meaning for the name as ‘a rich or powerful guardian.’ This also the Regdenir consider themselves. We are guardians of the truth. It amused me to use the name in dealing with the strangers I met.”

“I see. And also allowed you some anonymity, making you difficult to trace.”

“Apparently not.” He smiled again.

When they had finished their drinks, they got up and returned to the fountain room.

“Please wait here while we prepare. The daylight will end in an hour. We must walk up to the promontory above the house before then.”

***

The journey to the promontory left Jim gasping for breath and covered in sweat. The path up the rise behind the retreat house was a series of precipitous switchbacks that the Regdenir negotiated with an ease that Jim could not match. He pushed past overgrown ferns and pumped his legs up the slopes but fell behind at every turn.

Ahead of him, Sopha led his three sons and two other Regdenir Jim had not seen before. He wondered as he climbed if they had been deliberately kept hidden. He guessed Sopha was a good enough strategist to have a backup plan in case his meeting with an unknown alien had not gone well.

Around the last bend, the path leveled out and led into a narrow tunnel of interwoven branches and hanging leaves. Rushing through the arch at its far end, Jim skidded to a halt, suddenly in the open and blinking in the light. He saw the Regdenir some way ahead of him, standing in a line and bowing, hoods hiding their faces. The ceremony was already underway.

Jim felt disappointed that he was, apparently, not invited to participate, nor given any explanation of what was taking place. He was allowed to attend and otherwise forgotten.

He stood where he was, taking stock of what he could see. The tunnel had led to a circular stone platform, perhaps six hundred feet in diameter. Only the figures of the Regdenir interrupted its flat expanse. There was neither edging nor railing to hide the view of the valley beyond. At his feet were intricate etchings in the black stone. His eyes followed long curved lines connected with others in a continuous work that seemed to cover the entire surface.

The sun was setting behind the two mountain peaks to Jim’s left. He was glad to be in