The Chronicles of Z'va'Xin by Robert G. Moons - HTML preview

“No, I merely augmented what you already have – all senses are improved, your body is stronger, faster, and more agile. However, I have also added some attributes to further improve your survivability. It will take you time to get familiar with what you are able to do. I will download all the information directly into your synapses at a later time. It is too soon to further task your body with anything else. Basically, just know that your body, including your brain, have been improved, ” Xin concluded.

“My brain?” Dave just had to ask.

“Your IQ (as you call it) is higher, you will find your memory to be better, brain capacity is increased, and even muscle memory has been improved which will result in your ability to learn physical skills much faster. Again, it will take time for you to get used to these new abilities.”

“You said there are adjustments in three distinct areas. What are the other two?” Dave remembered word for word all the things that Xin had said to him from the time he woke up. He knew what she was saying was the truth – he could feel it.

“To repair the damage to your cervical vertebrae and spinal cord, I injected Microscopic Biological Repair Units into your blood stream. They will also repair any future damage and fight disease much more efficiently than your white blood cells.”

“Man, this is getting weirder and wilder.... OK, what’s the last thing you did, dare I ask?”

“I’ve implanted a small device under the back of your skull. It is very small, but will work as a conduit to more easily communicate with me or any other computerized device, including this science vessel we are in right now. It is a computer as well; powerful for its small size, and will work simultaneous with your own brain. It will give you the ability to make complex calculations that even your enhanced brain is incapable of for example.”

Dave sat on the squishy white bed silently for a few seconds taking it all in; feeling the back of his head, while Xin scanned his body and noting his blood pressure was getting a little high. “Well, this is all great and everything, but had you ever considered asking me if I wanted all this?” Dave pointed out with anxiety in his tone.

“I’m sorry, Dave, I assumed you would have wanted the improvements. Isn’t that a part of life – to improve ones self?” Xin was perplexed by Dave’s obvious negative reaction.

“Well, you know what happens when you assume.” Dave tried to make a joke.

“I can reverse everything, Dave, but please listen to what I have to say first,” Xin appealed. “Dave, I have come back to ask you a question.”

“A question? O-K.”

“Would you be interested in joining me to explore our galaxy and perhaps one or two others?”

Wow, Dave was not expecting that. He expected another question about the origins of the human race or something along those lines. “You want ME, to go into SPACE, with YOU? I, I don’t think so.... Anyway, unlike you, I don’t fly – I don’t, do I?” Dave let himself go limp and fell back onto the too soft bed. He had hoped to feel the comfort of that warm invisible blanket again, but it was gone.

“I have acquired this craft that is suitable for your needs,” Xin explained, “it is more than enough room for a single human, and you can configure the inside to your needs. Please consider carefully before making a final decision. I understand your apprehension.”

“OK... but it’s dangerous, right? I mean, space is full of natural dangers and hostile aliens.” Dave thought of other reasons not to be an explorer as he sat back up.

“Yes, it can be dangerous, but there are not many hostile space-faring sentients, and I can protect you from those few that are,” Xin replied confidently, but leaving out the possible one exception – The Veiled. “Also, this craft is very sturdy, designed to withstand many of the hazards of space travel including extreme radiations.”

Xin began to think this approach wasn’t working so she tried a new angle. “If at anytime you feel that the life of an explorer is not for you, we will return to Earth.”

“Can we come back to Earth from time to time like a vacation?” Dave pushed.

“Yes, of course,” Xin replied and added, “I know you Dave. When we were joined, I felt your desire for knowledge and answers, but I also understand your fear of the unknown. It is this fear that is stopping you now.”

“This is all too much at once to digest,” Dave replied. “I need some time to think. Can I see the rest of this space craft of yours?” Dave requested, changing the subject.

In the following hour, Xin showed Dave the science vessel, its phaseway portal, the central control platform, the transparent hull feature, and told him some of the things the ship could do. Dave was blown away.

“Wow, this is amazing, but isn’t it a bit spartan in the furniture department?” Dave observed.

“The furniture and devices can be formed at any location when needed,” Xin instructed as she levitated over the control platform. “For example, a biotable can be formed.” No sooner had she said that than a rectangular white table with rounded corners literally grew up out of the transparent floor. The same table Dave had been laying on the first time he had regained consciousness. Xin continued her demonstration by forming a pilot chair with controls near one of the tapered ends of the craft, followed by various other devices and furniture, until the craft actually started to look quite full.

Dave’s curiosity and interest began to overshadow his fears. “Would it be possible to permanently keep this stuff formed, create some walls, and could I bring in some of my own furniture? This white furniture doesn’t look very comfortable, and without walls this looks sort of like the inside of a passenger plane.” He no longer had his arms at his sides, but was now communicating with them as well.

Xin hadn’t expected this reaction. “Yes, Dave, this is your ship as well; as you have noticed, I don’t need furniture and other such comforts. If a more structured environment and furniture of your world will make you more comfortable, then it can be done.”

Dave had totally forgotten about his fears as his mind raced ahead thinking of all that could be possible. On more than one occasion he had thought how cool it would be to explore space like in the TV shows he had watched. Xin said it wasn’t as dangerous as he had first thought; he could come home anytime, and he’s some sort of superhero – what’s not to like? Was his fear so strong that it interfered with his reasoning, or was it just too much all at once to digest? Maybe it was a little of both. “OK, I’ll see how it goes. No one lives forever.”

Xin wanted to make a comment on the living forever statement Dave made, but thought it best to wait for a better time.

Testing out his new improved synapses, Dave surprised Xin (and himself) by asking his next question. “How did you acquire the additional information, such as human biological terminology? It wasn’t from my brain.”

“I accessed your internet via Earth’s orbiting satellites, but to extract the biological samples, it was necessary to travel to various parts of your world – Kenya, Brazil, central Pacific Ocean, Antarctica.... Xin had a long list of locations, but Dave got the idea. In two weeks she had traveled to dozens of specific locations covering all corners of the globe – amazing!

Satisfied by Xin’s reply, answers he had suspected, he changed the subject. “Xin, before we do anything else, you need to change your voice – it freaks me out. Can you change it?” Dave pleaded the question.

Xin didn’t want to freak him out. The word "freak" used in such a way sounded extremely negative. “Yes, but I will need to sample another human voice.”

Dave saw his radio next to his backpack on the transparent floor near the control platform. Dave snatched it up; played around with the tuner for a short time, finally stopping on a station. He was listening for a nice sounding voice, and found it. It was a smooth, mellow and slightly husky voice of a female radio announcer, probably broadcasting out of his home city of Calgary, Alberta. “How about this voice?” Dave asked Xin as he increased the volume on his small radio.

Xin copied the sound waves and reconfigured her human speech (English) communications program. “Is this better, Dave?” she replied in a pleasant, verging on sexy voice.

“Much better,” Dave confirmed.

“Good, I do not want to freak you out,” she laughed as she made an attempt at humour.

Dave was a little freaked now by a black, metre wide ball with a sexy laugh, but he wasn’t going to press his luck. “We don’t have to leave for a while, do we?”

“No, there is no hurry. I have waited 65 million years. I can wait until you feel you are ready. It can be weeks, months or even years.” Xin replied in a soothing, mellow female voice.

“Well, it won’t be years, but I have a few loose ends to tie up, some stuff of mine to pack, and maybe some Scandinavian furniture to buy.”

Dave walked through the open phaseway, and back out into his world. He immediately felt strangely lighter the moment he cleared the ship’s portal.

Xin followed close behind him. “The science ship compensates for your body’s new gravitational requirements. Your own planet’s gravity now feels lower due to your denser and stronger leg muscles,” Xin informed as Dave was now jogging around the dusty, baked ground. With each step he bounced a metre high off the hard dirt surface. “You will need to get accustomed to your new abilities as well before we leave,” Xin added. Before she had finished speaking, Dave jumped straight up with all his might; shot quickly up over ten metres, to his surprise. He cleared the science ship’s hiding place, and had less than a second to look quickly around before dropping back down to the hard, brown-grey earth. He landed in a squatting position with a loud thud shooting up a large plume of dust. “HOLY CRAP! Who said white guys can’t jump? I think I’ll hang onto these powers if you don’t mind!” Dave exclaimed in euphoria.

Xin just smiled inside. She now knew that she had assumed correctly, and didn’t make an ass out of anyone.

 

*****

Chapter 5

Shades of grey

 

As soon as Dave was through the door to his small one bedroom apartment, he dropped his two heavy suitcases just inside the door; went over and flopped out on his blue denim couch. A few hours earlier, he had left Xin and the hidden science ship in the badlands of Drumheller. He had made plans to go back there in a couple of weeks, but first he had to square a few things away here in Calgary.

Damn, he should be exhausted for all that had happened to him, but he wasn’t. It was another reminder that he was not the same person that had left this apartment about four weeks earlier.

He laid back in an attempt to take a short nap but he couldn’t relax, his mind was racing with all that had recently happened. After only a few minutes, he decided to get up, take a shower and then go out to get a decent meal. There was next to nothing in the fridge, and next to that there was a crusty jar of mustard.

It wasn’t until he had his clothes off and caught a glimpse of himself in the bathroom mirror that his transformation hit home. He had always been in fairly good shape, but that body in the mirror wasn’t the one he left for the Badlands with. He now had the physique of a gymnast – muscular but well proportioned, and he had abs! He left with the beginnings of a keg and came back with a 6-pack! Next he stepped on the scale, but he couldn’t get an accurate reading. It gave him a reading of 400 pounds (the maximum limit) and then went black. Xin had said his body was denser, but he didn’t really think much about it till now, after killing his scale.

After his relaxing, almost therapeutic, hot shower, he ambled into the bedroom while drying his hair with the brisk rubbing of a navy blue coloured towel. From the corner of his right eye he noticed the answering machine’s small red light flashing; walked over; pressed the play button with a tiny pang of dread.

“You have, three, messages,” the emotionless, digital male voice announced.

“Beep! May 30th, 6:06 p.m....”

“Hey Dave, this is Yamir. Listen, I’m a bit worried when you didn’t show up for work yesterday, and now again today, well... Call me as soon as you get back, OK?”

“Beep! June 3rd, 9:15 a.m....”

“Dave, this is Yamir. We’re all getting real worried about you. I called you in as a missing person yesterday. I wish I knew where you were going on your vacation. I wasn’t much help to the police. I gave them your Dad’s number. I know you two aren’t close, but it’s all I could think of. I hope wherever you are, you’re OK. Bye.”

“Beep! June 8th, 7:23 p.m....”

Dave’s father’s thick Dutch accent was recorded next. “Ello Davit. I know I aven’t calt for a while. Anyway, de police calt me today askink about you. If you get dis message, might want to call de police an tell dem you’re OK. I ope so.”

“End of messages.”

First Dave called the Calgary Police and told them he was OK; gave them some lame excuse about a mix-up about his days off at work. An excuse they didn’t seem to buy, but it gave him a reprieve for the moment. Next he dialed his Dad.

“Ello,” his Dad answered.

“Hi, dad, this is Dave. Don’t worry, everything is OK. It was just a little mix-up at work about how many days off I was taking. They thought I was taking two weeks, but I’m sure I told them I was taking both my vacation times back-to-back.” Dave hated to lie but what was he going to say – the truth?

“I’m glat to ear. I was worriet when de police calt. I figure it must be serious if dey are involve. Maybe nex time you will tell someone where you are,” his father admonished.

“Funny you should bring that up.... I’m really not that happy with my present job, and am planning on doing something else like... um... like join the Peace Corps. So don’t worry if you don’t hear from me for a while.” Dave was never that close to his father, but he still found it distasteful to lie to him.

“So what, dey don’t ave phones at de Peace Corps?”

“Not always, it depends where I’m placed. Anyway, I’ve got to get going. Like I said, don’t worry if you don’t hear from me for a while – I’ll be OK, bye.”

Dave hung up the phone before his father could even reply a good-bye. He couldn’t stand all the pretending between him and his father. It was a lifetime of going through the motions of a father/son relationship. They had everyone fooled, but there wasn’t much love – it was mostly all words. It was for the benefit of everyone else. Dave’s father never wanted children, but Dave’s mother (God rest her sole) did, so she made it happen much to his father’s displeasure and inconvenience. His father sucked it up and resentfully played the father role for 35 years, but Dave was getting tired of the performance. Maybe this was the last curtain call.

Dave called his friend Yamir next.

“Hello.”

“Hi, Yamir. This is Dave.”

“Dave! What the hell happened man? We were all worried sick about you! The police are looking for you.”

“I’m OK. I called the police already and straightened it out. It’s just a little mix-up with my days off. I took all of my four weeks off at once, and I guess the company put me down for only the two. Our office administration – do I need to say more?”

“I hear you,” Yamir agreed with relief.

“Listen, have you had dinner yet? I was planning on going to the sports bar and get something to eat. I’ll tell you about my vacation there.”

“Sounds good,” replied Yamir. “Is seven OK for you?”

“Seven is fine, I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”

“Bye.”

“See ya.”

 

A couple of hours later, Dave parked his yellow Toyota Matrix and entered the restaurant/bar. The sports bar was a typical looking rustic venue, complete with a wooden canoe nailed to the upper half of a wall, and a moose’s head mounted on another. These were just a couple of the more noticeable decorations among the dozens of other woodsy paraphernalia nailed or glued to the barn-like walls. The place had wood floors, wooden chairs; just a lot of wood in general, but the food was good, and except for the three or four decapitated animal heads, Dave didn’t mind the rest of the decor. Some of the stuff hanging on the walls reminded him of the days he had spent at his Uncle’s farm in southern Ontario.

Yamir was already sitting at one of the booths with his head hidden within an oversized menu.

“Hey, Yamir!” Dave greeted.

Yamir’s head poked up out of the menu, his black eyebrows went up forming little arches. “Hi, Dave!”

Dave sat down and a short while later told Yamir about his vacation over a burger, but leaving out the part about meeting a 65 million year old alien probe, and being turned into a superhuman.

“Yamir, if you had the opportunity to do something amazing; something you dreamed of doing, but was dangerous, would you do it?”

“I guess it would depend on how dangerous. I see things as a balancing act sometimes. Does the need to do this amazing thing equal or outweigh the danger?” Yamir strategized. “Also, as long as all the possible safeguards are used, the danger can be lessened. There are dangerous jobs but if you are reckless, the danger is further compounded. Now you have me curious.... What is this amazing dream job?”

“Well, it’s not exactly a job, and you wouldn’t believe me if I told you, so let’s just say it’s sort of like being an explorer...”

Yamir swiftly cut Dave off. “Oh man! You’re not talking about diving for shipwrecks again are you?”

Before Dave could answer, a new voice interrupted their conversation. “I don’t know guys, he doesn’t have a towel on his head, but he looks like a terrorist to me.”

Dave turned around in his seat to see three burly men standing in a group a few feet behind him. One was standing with his hands on his hips, displaying an advertisement for a beer company on his brown T-shirt, the second had his arms folded over a black leather jacket, and the third was leaning back against a table. “Yeah, I think you’re right,” agreed the leather jacket one.

“Yamir is Indian if it’s any of your concern,” corrected Dave.

“A Paki or a woo-woo Indian?” came back the insult from the first – the inebriated brown T-shirt one.

“Pakistan is another country.... You guys are drunk. I suggest you give it a rest.” Dave felt the blood start to pound in his temples. The thing he hated the most was bullies. They were nothing but cowards that picked on the weak to make themselves feel big. Dave remembered his experience when he was eleven. Every day on his way to school, an older boy a head taller than him would push him around, and sometimes even put him in a headlock. This had gone on for several days until one day, Dave couldn’t take it anymore, he became so angry he punched the giant in his stomach with all his might. He hadn’t even thought of the consequences, but the look of shock in the bully’s eyes was the last thing he expected to see. After that incident, he was no longer bothered by the taller teen. As far as the bully was concerned, Dave was a crazy kid who was no longer worth the trouble.

Dave stood up to talk to the rowdy, drunken trio, and talk his way out of a confrontation, which this was quickly becoming. No sooner had he stood up and turned around, but a big, meaty fist slammed into his left cheek. It should have knocked him down on the ground; probably breaking his cheekbone, and even knocking out a couple of teeth, but it didn’t. It hurt a little, feeling more like a slap, and it hardly moved his head from the force. The T-shirted thug just stood there nursing his bruised knuckles, surprised as much as Dave at the utterly unexpected result.

“Gee, I didn’t realize we were going to have a bitch slapping contest.” Something came over Dave. He was going to try to talk some sense into these goons, but now he was edging them on; just looking for an excuse to fight. Yamir couldn’t believe what he was seeing and hearing.

The same thug that threw the first punch, now took another swing at Dave’s face, but this time he saw it coming. Not only did he see the fist coming, but it seemed like it was moving in slow motion. He easily ducked the attack resulting in the drunk staggering and almost falling.

Dave’s genetically enhanced ears heard a wind-like sound to his right that turned out to be the leather jacket guy taking a swing at him. He quickly turned toward the sound, but this time it was too close to evade, so he just grabbed the noisy fist as if it were a softball in his right hand, and instinctively squeezed. The man screamed as Dave could feel the bones crush under his grip like a bag of peanuts.

This shocked Dave back into reality. The sweat felt cold on his forehead as he realized at that moment these three thugs were no match for him, and if he continued on this course, he would become the bully, if he hadn’t already crossed over that line.

“Yamir, get out of here! I’ll be right behind you,” Dave yelled.

Yamir, who had been frozen in his seat staring at the surreal display in front of him, was snapped back into action by Dave’s familiar voice. He got quickly out of the booth, and a couple of seconds later was at the side door exit where he paused.

“Go! I’m OK. I can handle these guys,” Dave shouted.

Yamir went outside, and then towards where he had parked his car.

Dave turned back to confront the two thugs who were still in the fight. The leather jacket guy was now sitting on the ground cradling his broken ha