Present day Washington DC.  Kairos: Glen, the Storyteller.

Recording…

 

            Lockhart stepped out of the plane on his own two feet, took a deep breath and let it out slowly through his smile.  He couldn’t help it.  He spent the last fifteen years in a wheelchair and was dreading retirement.  Now he was healed and free.

            Glen scooted past and paused only long enough to comment.  “Don’t start depending on those Gaian healing chits.  That is a good way to get killed.”  Lockhart nodded, but then they saw Lincoln coming to the door as Glen hurried off.

            Boston followed Lincoln and lugged the folded-up wheelchair.  “I guess this goes back in storage.”  She groaned as she lifted it over the lip to the ramp.  Then the young woman and the old man walked side by side toward the building until they saw people running toward them.  Boston thought to say one more thing before they got swallowed by the crowd.

            “I will miss pushing you around in this thing.”

            “Me too.”  Lockhart responded in all seriousness before he had to stop walking and hug Bobbi.  She was crying, and he had to get touched, praised and congratulated for getting his legs back by any number of others as well.

            Glen got as far as the door to the main building of the Men in Black before Lincoln grabbed his arm and spouted again.   “But My wife has to be out there somewhere.”

            Once again Glen tried to reassure the man.  “Don’t worry.  Up until now there were a few other things pressing, like finding you for instance.  But Alexis is now my top priority.  Oh no.”  He said that last because he saw Mirowen and Doctor Emile Roberts racing toward him.  “Lincoln is one.  This is two.  Trouble does come in threes,” he mumbled.  “I can’t wait.”

            “Hey you!”  The shout came from further down the hall as Mirowen and Doctor Roberts hustled up to the front door to hide behind Glen.  A marine followed.  Glen held up his hand like a traffic cop.

            “Go tell Colonel Weber to meet me in the lunchroom in thirty minutes.”  The marine looked ready to object so Glen repeated himself.  “Go.” 

            That just made the marine mad.  It looked like he was going to say “Who the Hell are you?” but when Glen vanished from that world and was replaced by an absolutely stunning young woman in an outfit that was both tight and short, it came out, “What the f***?”

            “Princess,” Mirowen lowered her eyes.

            “Crude.”  The Princess responded to the marine before she gave both Lincoln and Doctor Roberts a sharp look.  She grabbed Mirowen by the elbow.  “We will be in the ladies room so too bad for you Lincoln.”  It was the one place Lincoln could not follow and she could get some peace even if Glen could not.

            Once inside the women’s room, the Princess turned immediately to the mirror.  It was reflex, an automatic reaction to see how she looked.  The main part of her mind was focused on the elf.  “So Mirowen, what have you and Emile decided?”

            Mirowen curtsied, and gracefully despite the fact that she was in greasy overalls.  “Lady.  Emile is reluctant to become elf kind, and we have researched it and it has not seemed to us that you have done that very often.”

            “Not often,” the Princess responded.  “But one of my godly lifetimes like Danna or Junior or Nameless or Amphitrite might arrange it.” 

            Mirowen curtsied a second time and looked at the floor.  She spoke softly.  “I understand.”

            “But Mirowen, what about joining Alexis in the human world?”  The Princess turned from the mirror to look at the elf.  She was a lovely elf and the Princess had no doubt she would make an equally lovely human woman.

            “I am prepared for that.”  Mirowen dropped her eyes again but she did not sound convinced.  “Oh, but Colonel Weber is threatening to drag Emile back for trial for stealing property from area 51.  But it was my unicorn.  I was just getting her back!”

            Boston came to join them at that point and also went straight for the mirror while the Princess turned again to face Mirowen.  “You know if you stay as you are, he will grow old more rapidly than you can imagine while you will hardly change at all.  You will lose him and he will lose you in the end.”

            “One of us will likely go first in any case.”  Mirowen would not look the Princess in the eyes.

            “I could do that,” Boston interrupted.  “With Lockhart, I mean.  He is such a snuggle bear, and a good kisser too, I bet.  If only he wasn’t such a father figure.”

            “Grandfather figure.”  The Princess corrected her, and Boston did not deny that truth.

            “Oh, but did you hear Lincoln’s concern for his missing wife?”  Boston said.  “I never met her, but I understand she was an elf once.  He must really love her.”  The Princess nodded for Boston but she spoke with an eye on Mirowen.

            “And she really loves him and would do anything for him.”

            “Two peas in a pod.”  Bobbi the Director came in, a marine on her heels.  The Director caught the tail end of the conversation.  “And that is why we need to find Alexis if we can.  Is it crowded in here or what?”

            “Women’s conference,” Boston suggested.  The marine grimaced as she set down her briefcase and took a turn in the mirror.

            “Yes, well Mirowen, we will talk more later.”  The Princess took back the conversation.  “Meanwhile, I had a hard time at first getting a lead on Alexis.  She became too human, I think.”

            “She still has the magic,” Bobbi noted.

            “Yes, but so do a number of humans, and the more so as the Other Earth waxes toward full conjunction.”

            “What about the Lady of Avalon?”  Boston suggested.

            “Alice?”  The Princess closed her eyes.  “Yes, that is how I found her.  Alexis was there in Avalon, and I suppose I knew that all along.  She was just not the priority because she did not appear to be in any danger.  Her father Mingus took her out of fear that she was getting too old and would soon die and leave him grieving.”  The Princess sighed.  “I guess we have to go fetch her.”

            Bobbi touched the Princess on the arm and the Princess started to move over, but Bobbi had a request first and only glanced briefly at the marine before she spoke.  “Can I go to Avalon?  All these years I have worked this operation and in these last few years I have kept it all running, and I have never been to Avalon.  Not even once.”

            The Princess smiled and hugged her friend.  “Soon.  Not this time, but after you retire, and no, you cannot retire today.  I need you to keep Colonel dipstick away from Mirowen and Emile while I am gone.”  The Princess turned toward the marine.  “So, do you work for Darth Weber?”  The marine picked up her briefcase and smiled, but just a little.

            “I don’t do typing pool gossip,” she said and left.

            “Humph.”  Bobbi harrumphed, but not in a sour way.  She stepped up to the mirror and touched her gray hair, looked at Boston who was maybe twenty-five, the beautiful elf and the incredible Princess and harrumphed again.  “What am I looking at?  I am way past the age for mirrors.”

            All of the young women paused to give Bobbi love hugs before they exited the Women’s Room together.  They had a conference to attend and they had to get Lincoln’s wife back.

            The character of the Kairos is one person who has moved through history, birth after birth, and has struggled mightily against the forces that would rewrite history and destroy the human race in the process.  There are many stories here, some of which are already written and I hope will be available in the next several years.

            The heart of time is a glowing crystal, an instrument created at the beginning of history by the Kairos and the ancient God Chronos.  Its purpose is to track the progress of the human race through time, but it has a property that allows access to the many past lives of the Kairos.  These time gates permit a person to travel through time from one lifetime of the Kairos to the next.  Because of this, the Heart of Time is off limits to everyone.  The risk of changing history is too great.

            But when Lincoln’s wife – an elf turned human – is kidnapped by her father and dragged into the past, others are forced to follow and save her.  The current Kairos takes them through the crystal Heart to the beginning of time where the elder elf has dragged his daughter into the primordial chaos before history began.  The only way to retrieve them is for the Kairos to follow into the chaos and, in effect, exchange his life for theirs.

            Lincoln’s father-in-law and wife are returned to the beginning of history, but now with the Kairos gone there is no quick and easy way home.  They have to travel through time the slow way, through the time gates, from one lifetime of the Kairos to the next, and only hope to be able to get home in one piece.  That won’t be easy.  For one, the lives of the Kairos tend to be filled with struggle and danger.  For two, they learn they are not the only ones using the time gates.  Others have discovered the way through time, and they are not the kind of people or creatures you would want to meet on a dark night.

            Avalon, season one is complete.  Avalon season two will begin sometime this summer.  First, there needs to be some telling of what exactly happened to the Kairos when he sacrificed himself.  The primordial chaos is more complex than it appears.  The Kairos who is still linked to all of those other lifetimes in history might yet be able to navigate the wilderness and find the way home.

###

            I hope to play a bit with this confidential idea, and then plan to rerun the pilot episode up to the disappearance of the Kairos as a lead into the story I am calling, “Forever.”

My quote for the month.  I don’t know who said it, but it is worth repeating for anyone who is struggling against the tide to write – to do anything positive in their and with their life.

 

People too weak to follow their own dreams will always find a way to discourage yours.

 

I just thought you might like to know.

            Three in the morning, the lights came on.  It looked like several spotlights and strong enough to cast light over the top of the hill and boulder.  The light was white and bright and made their campfire look pale and yellow.  Then they heard a repeated sound which Boston identified.

            “Some kind of energy weapon.”

            “But what are they shooting at?”  Everyone wondered and went to the top of the hill where they could lie down and peek over.

            “I don’t see anything,” Lincoln confessed.

            “They are firing at something,” Captain Decker said.

            “I can smell them,” Mingus turned to Alexis.  “Eldrich fire.”  He pointed at the dark night sky.  Alexis nodded and got out her wand.  Both she and her father let globes of light rise in the sky, out over that long open field.  At once, under that magical light, eight figures appeared.  One of them was almost in their faces, and Lockhart barely rolled and fired his shotgun in time.

            The ghoul was knocked off his feet, and left only a puff of smoke and a green stain where it had once been.

            “Looks like four, now three headed our way and the other four going after the Gott-Druk,” Roland said.  The humans were all squinting in the light from the shuttle.  It was like looking into high beam headlights..

            “I can’t see a thing,” Boston admitted.

            “Decker and Harper, go to the sides and down the edge of the field.  You should get a shot when they pass your position.”

            “Sir,” Katie said and scooted off.  Decker was already gone.

            “Like here, there is one out front and three following about a hundred yards behind.  Wait.  One stopped.”

            A thin black line stretched up from the ground and put out the eldritch lights.  Fortunately, that was all Lincoln needed to fire at the bottom of the line – at the origination point.  Alexis and Mingus quickly put up two more lights.  The ghouls who had blinked into invisibility came back into focus, at least for the elves.

            “The Gott-Druk appear to be turning their weapons on each other.” Roland shouted and at the same time, the lights on the shuttle shot to the ground.  Suddenly, they could see, and Lockhart pulled his pistol.  It was a long way, but he fired, twice.  The ghoul nearest the Gott-Druk collapsed, and the Gott-Druk turned again to fire on the three still coming on.

            All that while, Lincoln, Boston, Roland, Mingus and Lockhart had the distant battle in sight.  Alexis alone saw the ghouls drawing closer.  They all jumped when they heard the crack of the rifles, and sighed.  At least the threat against them was neutralized.

            They looked again in the distance.  For whatever reason, the energy weapons of the Gott-Druk did not appear to have any effect on the ghouls.  Lockhart was inclined to help them, but there was a sudden flash of terrifically bright light and the ghouls vanished altogether.  At least, so Mingus and Roland said.  Again, the humans squinted, rubbed their eyes and saw spots.  It felt like they just looked directly into a professional photographer’s heavy duty flash bulb.

            When it was over and he could see again, Lockhart stood.  Boston wanted to pull him back down for a second, but that would have been pointless.  Certainly the Gott-Druk now knew where they were.  Lockhart raised his hands like in surrender, but he held the pistol in his hand so it was more a position of truce.  Boston jumped up to walk beside him.

            “Boston!”  Lockhart only got the word out before Roland joined them as well and he changed his words.  “No one else!  Harper and Decker, stay where you are and cover.”  Somehow, those two had found some cover – bushes or boulder, so they were not easily seen.  Then Lockhart walked, Boston and Roland beside him.

            It was not many steps before three Gott-Druk came out from the other side to meet them in the middle.  They all stopped ten feet apart.  The first word from the Gott-Druk was telling.

            “You belong to the rebel.”  He pointed at Roland.  Apparently, the Gott-Druk had been informed that certain Little Spirits were under the special charge of the Kairos.

            “He is with us, not the rebel,” Boston said and quickly stepped in front of the elf.  He gently moved her back to his side.

            “The rebel sent these terrible demons to attack us.  You sent them.”

            “They attacked us as well.  I am sure you saw,” Lockhart said.

            “The ghouls do not belong to the rebel.”

            “Huh!”  One of the Gott-Druk huffed and turned to his companions.  He spoke in the Gott-Druk tongue assuming he would not be understood.  “These are not the one we are looking for.  They are useless to us.”

            “But maybe they are hiding the one.”  The first said.

            “I say we should kill them and move out.”  The second said.

            The speaker paused to consider before he turned to the travelers and spoke again in what he thought was their tongue.  “Where is the rebel?”

            Lockhart looked at Roland.  He was considering a lie when Boston perked up.  She checked the amulet and found the gate quite close,  That meant Wlvn had to have been moving to the south west as they circled around the forest to the northeast.

            “Northwest,” she said hastily.  “He said something about Thor’s hammer.”

            Lockhart changed tactics and thought hard about the Gott-Druk tongue.  “As for killing us,” he said in their language.  “You might not find that so easy.”

            The Gott-Druk said nothing as a man appeared in their midst.  He had a long, hook nose, a pointed chin and walked like one bent and broken, but with a subtle grace and fluid motions that belied his crooked looks.  They all knew it was Loki without the need for introductions.

            Loki shot to one side and stared at Lieutenant Harper.  He shot to the other side and stared at Captain Decker, and snarled.  He shot to the top of the hill and looked down on Lincoln, Alexis and Mingus who were holding the fort.  Mingus and Alexis immediately got up and went down the hill to begin to strike the camp.  Lincoln stayed where he was to watch,  Then Loki shot back to the three in the field and examined each one of them in turn.  He finally stopped moving in front of Lockhart.

            “I see no one in the southwest,” he said with a glance at Boston.  “But I see no one in the northwest either.  You don’t belong here.  Go away.”  He was not making a request.  He spun, then and stared at the three Gott-Druk.  “Forget these ones.  Find me the rebel.”  His words were as sharp as his looks, and he vanished.  The Gott-Druk were visibly shaken.  Boston, Roland and Lockhart would shake later.

            “As the Lord commanded, we are going away,” Lockhart said, and turned without a look back.  Boston and Roland were a bit behind, but caught up.  The Gott-Druk also turned and walked back to their vehicle. 

            When they reached the others on the hill, Lockhart sat down and appeared to let out his breath.  “We need to go, now,” he said.  Lincoln nodded and they went together  toward the fire to down their tents and saddle up. 

            Katie and Captain Decker returned at about the same time as the others, and no one noticed until Lincoln called out into the dark, “Alexis.”  There was no answer.  “Alexis.”  He tried a little more volume, but still did not see her.

            Boston looked to the horses and spoke in a hurry, “Her horse is gone, and Mingus’ horse, too.”

            “What?”

            “Their horses are already gone.”

            “Not again!”  Lincoln yelled at the sky.

            “What do you mean?”  Captain Decker did not get it right away.

            Lockhart explained.  “Mingus.  He feels he has lost his daughter, and now he thinks he might lose his son in the same way.”  He nodded at Roland and Boston.

            “No, I would never…” Boston stammered and looked at Roland.

            “I,” he did not know what to say.  “We are not talking that way.  We just get along that’s all.”

            “Yeah, that’s all,” Boston agreed with Roland’s statement even if everyone knew that was not all.

            “Shit!”  Lincoln rarely swore, and after that word he said no more.  They hurried to collect their things and get up on their horses.

            “They can’t have that much head start,” Captain Decker said.

            “This way,” Roland read the signs and lead the group.  The trail lead straight to the gate.  When they arrived, it was clear Mingus and Alexis had gone into the next time zone ahead of them.  Lincoln did not repeat his word.

            “I don’t like going into the next time zone in the dark,” Katie said, honestly enough.

            “Only eighty left,” Boston was thinking of something else.

            Captain Decker and Roland still thought they might catch them.  It was hard to tell what Lockhart thought.  No one was really paying attention as they nudged their horses through the gate and an orange-clad Gott-Druk stood from behind a boulder and followed them.

 

END OF SEASON 1

            The next day they traveled in a slow but a steady pace.  The horses walked, and sometimes they walked the horses.  Boston commented that it looked to her like the Kairos was moving south because they were getting closer to the gate faster then she calculated they should.

            Mingus said nothing that day.  He stole occasional glances at Alexis who rode contentedly beside Lincoln, and Roland, especially when he nudged forward to ride beside Boston.  Lockhart noticed, but he was quiet as well.  In fact, since Captain Decker had taken the mantle of occasional quips, he found he had little to say.  He did not mind the conversation when Katie rode beside him, but otherwise he was as quiet as Mingus and so he did not think much about it.

            For lunch, they sheltered in a hollow full of trees.  The horses were let to wander for the first time, but they needed the grazing time and at some point they had to trust their instincts.  They knew they were each tied to their horse.  The horses would not wander off on their own, and since all around the hollow there was good pasturage and open fields so no predator could sneak up on them, they let them lunch as well.

            “I’m only sorry we don’t have something more scrumptious, like oats for them to munch on.”  Katie felt like talking, though she directed most of it toward Lockhart.

            “Apples would be nice,”  Boston suggested.

            “Or a sugar cube,” Lincoln decided.  “I could really go for a chocolate bar right now.  Alexis?”

            “I think you’re mean even bringing up chocolate.  I’m trying to break the habit.”

            “Well, I think I’ve decided,” Captain Decker said.  When they all looked at him, he spoke again.  “I think I’m going to call my horse Weber.”  Everyone understood that was commentary on the man, but Mingus spoke first.

            “You are naming your horse?”

            “Why not?  The women have all named theirs.”

            “Misty,” Alexis said of her gray.

            “Beauty,” Katie said.  “I liked Black Beauty when I was a child.”

            “Honey,” Boston said.  “Because he’s sweet.”

            The women looked at Lincoln.  “Cortez,” Lincoln mumbled the name before he spoke up.  “It was the name of a horse I once rode.”

            “Valiant,” Roland said with a look in Boston’s direction.  Mingus erupted.

            “Elves don’t name their horses.”  He stood.  “What is wrong with us?  Alexis, what is wrong with you, and Roland, too.  We are elves, not stinking mortals.  What are we doing here, hanging out with humans?  We are becoming just like them, foolish, stubborn and stupid.  I studied them and their history for centuries, and sure, some of them had to rub off on me.  Not to my betterment, mind you.  But I never expected it to pass on to my children.  Okay, so everything I studied was wrong –“

            “Not wrong, father,” Alexis interrupted.

            Mingus raised his hands.  “Okay, but terribly incomplete.  Most of what I learned is in the database there that pinhead is carrying.”

            “Father!”

            “He was a pinhead when you married him.  I don’t see any great changes since then.”

            “Father!”

            “Oh, Alexis.  Someone needs to wake you up.”  He threw his hands down and stomped off.

            “Roland,” Alexis spoke sharply and Roland hesitated half-way through standing up.  “He just has some steam to blow off.  Leave him alone.  It will pass.”  Roland sat down, and they were all quiet until Katie nudged Lockhart.

            “So, what are you naming yours?”

            “Dog,” Lockhart said.

            “Dog?”

            Boston laughed.  “You can’t name a horse dog.”

            Lockhart whistled and Dog came trotting right up to him.  “Any questions?  Time to go.”

            That afternoon, they paused at a distant sound, and Lockhart thought they had better play it safe.  “Cover,” he said, and they made for a stand of trees.  They dismounted and walked their horses into the stand and waited, eyes on the sky.  After a moment, they were not disappointed.  A shuttle of some kind passed overhead.

            “A step up from the one we saw in Odelion’s time,” Lincoln whispered, though he hardly had to whisper considering the whine the shuttle was making.

            “What do you think?”  Lockhart turned to the marine Captain with something else on his mind.

            “Definitely landing.  It is coming down somewhere ahead of us.”

            “Probably intend to cut us off and catch us just before dark,” Katie added.

            “So they have made us,” Lincoln said and stepped out from among the trees.

            “I would guess, yes.” Lockhart said as he followed and mounted.

            “So Roland and I need to take the point to try and find them before they find us,” Lincoln finished his thought, and added another.  “I’ve done this kind of work before.”

            Lockhart looked at Captain Decker, but the Captain shook his head.

            “I would be no help on horseback,” he admitted.

            Lincoln nodded, leaned over and gave Alexis a fat kiss on the lips and started out.  Roland stared back at Boston, but waited for Lincoln.  “The man is full of hidden talents,” Alexis said with a grin.  Mingus looked like he was not finished steaming yet.

            Lincoln came galloping back after only two hours.  There were still a couple of hours before dark, but he had a report.  “They are up ahead at the end of a long, open space.  At this end is a small hill and a great boulder.  Roland and I figure we can camp there, on this side of the hill.  We can tie off the horses with their backs to the boulder to protect them better in the night, and the hill should hide our camp and campfire.  Maybe we can meet them in the morning.”

            “Maybe when we don’t show up, they will come out to find us,” Captain Decker suggested.

            “And maybe they will leave because it isn’t us they are looking for anyway,” Lockhart countered.  “It’s a good plan, as far as it goes.”  So that is what they did.

            Of course, Lincoln had to have the final say for the night.  “You know I won’t sleep a wink knowing that they are there.” 

            Alexis just pulled him down to the blanket, pulled her blanket on top of them, curled up half on top of him and said, “Good night,” thereby getting in the actual final words.

            “Neither man nor God is going to tell me what to write.” – James T. Farrell, author of the Studs Lonigan trilogy.  That sounds high and mighty.  It is also naïve.  Creativity does not happen in a vacuum.  There are external forces at work.

            Christians might talk about being nudged by God or the divine or being inspired.  Secularists, even atheists might also talk about inspiration, though from another source.  That source might be nature or music or some mythical muse, but the point is creativity requires an external component. 

            All at once, something is seen in a new way.  It is serendipity.  There is an eureka moment, a kind of epiphany when the proverbial light bulb goes off.  Just like a story, there must be a spark to get things rolling, and that spark must be strong enough and sustained enough to see the project to completion. 

            Maybe Farrell never got his spark from the divine or from man, but I can assure you he did not create ex-nihilo.  The only thing that comes out of nothing is nothing.

            On the other hand, clearly there is also an internal component to creativity.  This is what bubbles up from our subconscious or unconscious mind.  It invariably looks very much like us, and if I may speak of writing for a moment, it is us that goes down on paper.

            That may be why so many writers treat their manuscripts like children and feel obliged to defend them to the death.  It is ourselves exposed on the page, in the painting, in the performance, in the building of the future, and any writer or artist or creative soul who tells you otherwise is either lying or ignorant.

            Creativity may need an external spark, but it never remains untouched by us – the creators.  Indeed, as I said, we invariably make it look like us.  Still, I would say creativity happens when something external and something internal bond in a new and unprecedented way.        What do you think?

            It was nearly dark when the travelers stopped for the night.  There was just time to build a fire and rub down the horses, using Captain Decker’s rope to tie them off for the night.  Everyone was tired, but excited about the horses.  The women had all ridden before.  Lincoln had ridden some during his time with the CIA, though he was not at liberty to say where or why.  The elves, of course, were more than capable riders though they preferred their own two feet.  Only Captain Decker and Lockhart had never ridden other than Lockhart’s one trip down the grand canyon on a donkey’s back.

            “I expect we will all feel it tomorrow,” Lockhart said.

            “Why wait for tomorrow?” Captain Decker asked and rubbed his backside.

            Still, they were happy knowing they would not have to walk all the way back to the twenty-first century.  All seemed well with the world, and though Lockhart insisted on the two man watch, they all felt they would get a good night’s sleep.  Naturally, they got nothing of the sort.

            It started about midnight when Alexis woke up to the sound of a baby crying.  It was far away and faint, but she heard it clearly.  She had just gone to sleep an hour earlier from first watch, so she knew it was not a dream.  There it was again, and she shook Lincoln.

            “What?” Lincoln was groggy.  He was just falling into a deep sleep.

            “Listen,” Alexis said.  “Can you hear that?”

            They listened but heard nothing.  Just before Lincoln said, go back to sleep, you were dreaming, the sound came again.  It was louder and still sounded like a baby’s cry, but there was something different about it – something off.  Alexis jumped up and found the two on watch, Lockhart and Mingus had heard it too.  They were side by side, staring at the line of trees in the distance.

            “It’s coming from inside the forest,” Lockhart pointed as Katie and Boston came up from the horses and Roland jogged in from the dark.

            “Night creatures,” Mingus named them.  Roland only had to nod to confirm.

            “They appear to be guarding the perimeter of the trees,” Roland reported.  “But whether that is to keep people out or keep the slaves in I cannot say.”

            “Let’s hope they don’t catch wind of us or the horses,” Katie spoke from behind.  “So far the horses don’t appear spooked by them.”

            “I don’t think they recognize that sound as a danger,” Boston suggested.

            “Catching wind of us won’t matter,” Lincoln said.  He read about them in the database earlier that evening.  “I skimmed through their information when I was on watch.  It appears they eat what is handy, like scavengers.  I’m glad we did not camp near the trees.  They only kill what is handy when they get hungry enough, but it also said they can go for a long time without eating.  Mostly it said they get or are given a scent and then they hunt, and they don’t stop hunting that one thing until they catch it or die.”  He looked up.  “When they are on the hunt, they ignore everything else.”

            “Given a scent?”  Alexis had to ask.

            “The text was unclear about that,” Lincoln admitted.  “My guess is whichever god brings them here from wherever they come can lay out what or who they want hunted.”

            “And god help the hunted,” Mingus concluded as the sound appeared to fade again in the distance and people returned to their beds.

            It was two in the morning, just when Lockhart was waking Roland and Captain Decker to take their shift, the horses did get restless.  Boston and Katie jumped right up.  “Better than watchdogs,” Boston said as she started with her own horse and worked her way down the line.

            “Something is moving around out there,” Mingus reported.  Lockhart  nodded and spoke.

            “Decker, that side.  Roland, this side.  Mingus and I will watch from the camp.  Don’t engage, just try to find out what it is and where it is headed.”  He knew Decker, the marine ranger and Roland the hunter were the two best suited for the work.  They nodded, both instantly wide awake, and headed out, silently.

            There was quiet for a few minutes which felt like hours before something stood only a few feet from Lockhart.  It was a bear, an exceptionally big one, and it looked like it wanted their leftovers.  Lockhart had his shotgun and did not hesitate, but it only appeared to make the bear mad.  It roared.  Alexis shouted.

            “Get out of there!” 

            Boston grabbed two horses to keep them from running off.  Lincoln shrieked and shuffled away from the beast.  Mingus ran back as several shots came from a marine rifle and put the beast down.  Lockhart needed to empty another shotgun slug to finish the job.  Then he looked around.  Boston, Lincoln and Alexis had the horses.  Katie Harper was right beside him with her rifle.

            “Thanks,” Lockhart said.

            “Anytime, Robert,” Katie responded with a look up at his face and in his eyes.

            Roland and Captain Decker immediately came back, of course, but their reports brought no comfort.

            “I guess this is what I heard,” Mingus pointed at the bear.  Both Roland and Captain Decker shook their heads in response.

            “I saw a man, essentially naked, who ran off into the distance at the sound of the gunfire.  I could not catch him and come back here at the same time,” Roland said.  “My guess is the wolfman.”

            “I saw movement near the trees,” Decker said flatly.  “It appeared to be human in shape but I could not get a good look.”

            “Great!”  Lincoln said once they dragged the bear carcass downwind and the horses were settled again.  “Something to look forward to running into tomorrow.”  Mostly, they ignored him.

            Everyone went to bed after that, except Captain Decker and Roland who went on watch.  The Captain headed to the tree side of the camp so he could keep an eye on the forest.  He got out his night goggles just in case.  Roland pulled his knife to skin the bear  and cut what he could for the next day.  The bear turned out to be a tough old beast, so they left most of it for whatever animals might stake a claim.  Probably the night creatures, he imagined, if any of the bear was still there the following night.

            It was four-thirty when the horses became unsettled again.  Boston huffed, “Now what?”

            Captain Decker was out on the perimeter.  He felt something he felt before and growled silently, slammed on his night goggles and headed out toward what he believed was the source.  Almost at once, he dropped to a knee and fired.  He felt fairly sure he did not hit anything, and then it was gone.  Naturally, when he got back to the camp he found everyone awake.

            “Ghoul.”  That was all he had to say.

            “Good, that’s everybody,” Lincoln said.  “Now I can get some sleep.”

            “That’s the trouble with being so popular,” Alexis said.

            They had traveled that way before – by divine fiat – so the feeling of disorientation did not last long.  When they vanished from one part of the globe, they knew they would arrive elsewhere instantly and only had to adjust their mind and eyes to the change in scenery.  In this case it was easy because they remained on the undulating landscape, though a great forest was to their right and a man was nearby, down on his knees.  There was one thing, though, that caused all of them to wonder.  The field they were on was full of horses and a number of them had western style saddles and saddlebags. 

            “Oh, you just made it,” the man said as he got up from his knees.  “Mother must have sent you, and good thing.  I was just about to pass out.”

            “Nameless?”  Lockhart remembered the man, or rather the god from a past encounter.  It was the Kairos.

            “Good to see you again,” Nameless said.  “Good to see all of you, but now you must listen carefully before I go away and let Wlvn gift you.”

            “Gift?”  Lincoln asked.

            Nameless waved off the question and waved them in close.  “First, don’t go into the forest.  That area for miles belongs to the Titan at the center, and Loki assisting.  They have the territory ringed by forest and a one-way electric fence.  It is like a dog fence that keeps in dogs, but you don’t have to wear a collar.  It is keyed to humans.  You can pass through from this side, but will get scorched trying to pass through from that side.  You can see the old man,” Nameless pointed and some for the first time saw a man sleeping peacefully on a fine mattress.

            “Nice Mattress,” Katie whispered.  Her eyes were always on the technology of the times.

            “Compliments of mother Vrya,” Nameless nodded his head.  “He went unconscious racing through the fence on horseback.  The horse felt nothing, but the fence nearly killed him.”

            “And Wlvn?”  Lincoln asked.

            “He should be out cold,” Nameless admitted.  “But you first.  Now listen, here is the kicker, or two.  The Titan at the center has made an agreement, or Loki has, with the Gott-Druk.  They are his strong arm helpers and have the ships, shuttles and firepower to enforce the slavery of the people.”

            Several eyes looked around as Lockhart spoke.  “We may have a Gott-Druk from the future following us through the gates.  Maybe not.  That has not exactly been confirmed yet.”

            “We found him in Odelion’s time.”

            Nameless nodded.  “I remember, only it is the ones from this time that are your immediate threat.  They will be out in force looking for me – I mean Wlvn, and might pass on you, but no guarantees.  Then also, there are night creatures around.  They won’t bother you at all unless they are given your scent and you become their prey.  Then they won’t stop until they eat you.  And no, they are not native to this earth, though I have yet to fix a planet of origin.”

            “God help us if one of them starts after us through the gates,” Mingus said.

            “They can be killed,” Nameless assured them with a look at Captain Decker and Lockhart.  “But they are very dense creatures, almost all muscle and cartilage, so the bullets might not penetrate as much as you would like.  Also, they are smarter than any earth animal, so keep that in mind.”

            “And?”  Boston wondered if there was more.

            Nameless shook his head.  “Just the zombies chasing Wlvn, but I suspect they won’t bother you.  Oh, and watch out for Loki.”

            “Now the horses,” Alexis said.  She had her eyes on a gray.

            Nameless nodded, tossed some dust in the air and traded places with Wlvn so the dust fell on Wlvn’s head.  “Just a little godly magic to keep me conscious until we are finished.”

            “God of the horses?”  Lincoln was paying attention.  “But you are just human.”

            Wlvn nodded.  “Long story short.  When Poseidon lost the contest for Athens to Athena, he was not going to give the Athenians the horses for nothing.  He brought them to me.  He figured I would know what to do with them.  Then he laid hands on me and filled my mind with everything I needed to know about the care and handling of the beasts.  And he allowed that I could lay hands on others as well to spread that information quickly.  Knees, please.”

            No one understood what he was asking until Alexis got down on her knees.  Everyone followed her example.  Wlvn only said one more thing as he went from person to person and laid hands on each in turn.  “This is very draining.  If I was not due to go unconscious from the electric fence, I would certainly need to pass out after this.”  When he finished, he stepped back and let Nameless return in his place.  Everyone else marveled and tried hard to integrate this sudden influx of new knowledge.

            “Now don’t worry.  Wlvn already laid hands on the horses too.  They will recognize you all and know which of you they belong to.  Yes, Mingus,” Nameless spoke before Mingus could register his protest.  “You and Roland have horses as well, and you will ride with the others, so get used to it.”

            “But the saddles,” Lockhart started to speak, paused to consider his words, and spoke with sure and certain knowledge.  “They are from the nineteenth century.  Aren’t they a bit out of time?”

            “The horses are from the eighteen-seventies.  The saddles are a concession since hopefully you won’t be staying in a given time period for too long.  The horses are all sturdy mustangs, stallions from the old west – Marshal Casidy’s days.  He got them from a horse trader in the Dakotas.  Then Alice and I managed to bring them back here to this point.  Horses and the use of horses spread slowly across the old world, but begin here on the edge of the steppes.  These particular horses should not be startled by the sound of gunfire, hopefully never needed, and since they are also from the future they should be able to go with you into the future.”

            People went to their horses, also knowing which ones were theirs.  Lockhart got fancy.  He whistled and the horse went to him.

            “One more thought,” Alexis made everyone pause.  “How is Lady Alice?”

            “Confused.”  Nameless shook his head.  “My Storyteller is still missing, not dead so most everything is in confusion.  Avalon is whole,” he reassured the elves.  “But she can’t just bring you home and I can’t send you there.  I’m sorry.  You will just have to get home the hard way.”

            “Understood,” Lockhart said and he walked his horse north where Boston was waiting so he could check the direction.

            “Now, you all need to move on at least an hour from here,” Nameless continued.  “It would be better if old man Wlkn woke up none the wiser.  And me?  I have to pass out for a while.”  He watched the party mount, not expertly by any means.  “Good luck with your butts and legs for the first couple of weeks.  Knowing how to do something and doing it are two different things.  Good luck.”

            As they rode off, Nameless went back to his knees, traded places through time back to Wlvn who immediately went out cold and ate dirt.

What is your dream?  What is your ideal life?  What is your purpose?  Are you truly called to write?  The question of calling, purpose, dream is a perfectly reasonable question and one that I believe is worth every writer’s (if not every person’s) time and attention.  Is writing your calling in life to where you cannot dream of doing or being otherwise?

Church people know what I am talking about.  Church people talk about being called by God, touched by God, nudged into a certain work or ministry.  They understand calling.  But even secular people talk about inspiration, being moved by their muse, being inspired to write by nature or certain music or moods, like werewolves with pens unable to resist writing under a full moon.

The idea of calling is simple.  Why are you here?  I don’t mean this as a deep philosophical question, but a simple one.  You are who you are by nature and nurture and has that made you a writer more than anything?  Has that made you so you cannot imagine doing anything else?

Follow your dream, people say.  And I agree with them.

The reason I ask is because it took me 50+ years to really figure it out for myself.  I am a storyteller, yes, but my dream now is to put all of these stories on paper.  Once upon a time in my life, I might have been a painter, sculptor or actor, director, or musician.  I might have been a scientist examining the fabric of life or seeking to set my foot on Mars.  I might have been a preacher and teacher to actually tell my stories.  I might have been an athlete when I was young.  I was very athletic in my youth.  But it turned out now I am none of those things.  I am a storyteller, yes, but especially a writer and my dreams all live in the stories I put to paper.

Writing stories is what I was made for, as we might say in the church.  And you?  Or should I say, what are you made for right now?  You may have a number of dreams at different points in your life, but what is it now?

You see, I don’t believe calling is a static thing.  Earlier in my life I might claim I was made for all of those other things I mentioned; only that was then and this is now..

I often imagine a ball player who might retire at age 35, but to what?  After the required number of years, he might make the Hall of Fame, but what does that mean if he believes his life and dreams are behind him?  So many such people fade away, and that is sad.  John Glen, on the other hand, aged out of the space program and went on to serve honorably in the Senate before he retired to the position of elder statesman.

Sad are those who outlive their dreams.  They are sad because so many don’t know what to dream next or even that they are allowed.  No one ever told them that dreams never go out of fashion.

And me?  At this point I don’t expect to be counted among the sad.  I expect my dreams will outlive me because they are all so much bigger than I am.

Listen, it took me fifty plus years of wilderness wandering just to figure out my calling.  I am called to write, to write these stories.  I am called to tell and share my stories, and I take my strength in this rather late day from the words of one of my favorite authors of all time.  He said, “You are never too old to set another goal or dream a new dream.” (C. S. Lewis).

Keep that in mind.  Where there is life there is hope.  It is never too late.  Is writing what you are called to do?  If not, I urge you to find your own dream and live it.

###

Of course, knowing your calling and doing it well may be two different things…

After 4026 BC in “Russia,” near modern day Moscow.  Kairos: Wlvn, god of the horses

Recording…

              Lockhart, Lincoln, Captain Decker, Alexis and Katie all collapsed after passing through the gate.  It was only noon, but they were not going any further that day, and maybe the next.  Mingus and Boston set up the camp and got the fire started while Roland went out to hunt and gather what he could.  That evening over the fire, the five were still caught up in exhaustion.  They ate, not so frantically now, and spoke in quiet whispers.

              “When I fantasized about dancing naked under the moon, I imagined something a bit more romantic,” Alexis said as she snuggled up to Lincoln’s side.

              “I never imagined such a thing,” Lincoln admitted.  “Now even less.”

              I feel like I lost ten pounds,” Katie said.  She was young and in marine shape and hardly had ten pounds to lose.  “Not the way I imagined going on a diet.”

              Alexis nodded.  “The dance and starvation diet.  Not recommended for anyone over thirty.”  Captain Decker chose that moment to snore.

              “What about you, Lockhart.  You are very quiet.”

              Lockhart shook his head.  “Just tired.”  He looked at Roland who was sitting close to Boston.  They were not holding hands, but they should have been.  “You saw signs of no one,” he repeated an earlier question.  Roland had reported when he returned from the hunt, but he did not mind repeating himself as well.

              “No one,” he said.  “At least not recent.  People certainly passed through this valley at some point, but the fires are very old – perhaps fifty years or more.”

              “I imagine the earth population is still rather thin after Shinar,” Katie said.  “That was only five hundred years ago.”

              “Not even,” Lincoln spoke up.

              “Not even,” Katie nodded.  “Why?”  She directed that at Lockhart.

              Lockhart took a moment to look around, though he really could not see much in the dark beyond the firelight.  “Nothing,” he said, though clearly it was not nothing.

              “Never fear,” Mingus interrupted.  “My son and I will watch in the night, all night.  Elves can handle a night without sleep better than humans.  Besides, you went three days and two nights without any rest.  You need to recover or we won’t get very far.”  Lockhart nodded his agreement and thanks for the offer.  Roland objected.

              “Father.”

              “Besides,” Mingus finished his thought with a hard look at his son.  “Roland and I have some talking to do.”

              Alexis stole a glance at Boston, smiled and settled down beside her husband.

              No one and nothing bothered them in the night.  The moon was not right for the wolf.  They saw no orange clad Neanderthals sneaking around.  And probably because two elves working together could be a problem, the ghoul scout, if out there, and the bokarus, if still following them despite Faya’s bargain did not show themselves.  That did not mean the night was absent of fireworks.  By morning, Roland was not talking to his father which was fine because Mingus was not talking to his son, either.

              “We have to move, today.”  Lockhart decided.  There were several groans, but he knew, as did Captain Decker, that another day of just rest could be psychologically damaging.  They had a long way to go to get back to the twenty-first century and they did not need people dragging their feet.

              “Besides,” Captain Decker added.  “People are always capable of more than they think they are.”

              They walked slowly in the morning over rolling plains, pastureland and through occasional bits of trees.  Everyone thickened their fairy weave clothes and Lincoln made the only substantial comment in the group.

              “It says European Russia but it feels like late fall in New England.”

              Other than that, the only conversation was the whispers between Boston and Roland and everyone assumed that was private.  The others were too busy to talk, conserving their strength for the walk, except Mingus who was steaming about something.  They guessed it was Roland and Boston.

              Lunch was also a quiet affair.  People were still recovering and gathering their strength, but all thought the walk did them good.  Roland and Boston sat apart from the others and continued to talk softly and it looked to be getting serious.

              “So you finished school in record time,” Roland said.  It was something of a question.

              “I don’t know about record time,” Boston responded.  “I went to college when I was sixteen, after my junior year in high school, but I am not the only person who has ever done that.”  Boston looked down at her legs.  They were sitting on a bolder where she could let her legs dangle off a flat edge that dropped three feet to the ground.  “I finished college in three year which is not unusual either.  Then I got into a program where I could do both my master and PhD classes in another three years.  It was set up that way.  True, most people take four since they take a year to write their Master Thesis between the first and second year of classes.  I wrote mine over the summer.  Or actually, most people take six years since it is two years after the last classes to do a dissertation.  I did that in one year so I really took four to go through that program.”  Boston suddenly stopped talking.  She was babbling, and about herself.  She never did that.

              “And you never got involved with any boys during all that time?”

              “Boys?  I had – have some friends, sure.  I went out a few times, but who had time for that?  I was too busy studying my little brains off.”

              “If you had your PhD by the time you were twenty-three, I would say your brains are not so little.”

              “Twenty-four,” Boston said.  “I guess I am a smarty-pants.”  She slapped her palms against her thighs and Roland followed her hands with his eyes.  Boston watched him and her eyes got big when he smiled.  She slipped off the rock.  “I think I better go,” she said, and sought the security of the other women.  The kind of thoughts she was having scared her, and at the moment it was doubly bad since Roland was obviously having the same sorts of thoughts.

              “Hi, Alexis,” Boston said.

              “Sit down,” Alexis said.  “We need to talk.”  She made Lincoln go over and sit by Lockhart and the marines, all of whom snickered.  Lincoln just shrugged and pulled out the database.

              “I think you and I can be good friends.”

              Boston’s eyes got big.  “Oh, I don’t know.  I’m totally conservative and you’re totally liberal.  I don’t think we could agree on anything.”

              “What are you feeling?”  Alexis asked.

              “Scared,” Boston admitted.

              “It is totally scary and wonderful at the same time,” Alexis agreed.

              “But –“ Boston was not sure what to say.  She looked at Roland and thought of nothing bad, only, “he can be such a doofus.”

              Alexis also looked at Roland and then back at Boston.  “He’s my brother.  It wouldn’t be fair for me to comment.  But look at what I married.”  She nodded in Lincoln’s direction.  Boston looked briefly and had a question.

              “What is wrong with us?”

###

              They stopped a couple of hours early, but the point was made for them all.  They would move in the morning and get back to the routine of regular days soon enough.  It looked like a good site, being in a sheltered hollow with trees on two sides.  The wind had picked up and it was chilly.  The boulders made a good windbreak.

              “And plenty of fuel for the fire,” Mingus said.  It was about the first thing he said all day.

              “So we stop,” Lockhart agreed and he just got his backpack off when they had an unexpected visitor.  A woman appeared out of nowhere.  No one doubted she was a goddess, though she had her divine nature toned down sufficiently so no one felt obliged to drop to their knees.  What is more, she held a young girl in her arms and had two young boys of maybe nine and eleven years in tow and they all looked human enough.

              “You can’t stop yet,” she said.  “My son has something to give you.”  She raised a hand and everyone vanished from that spot.