Authors: Mark Henrikson
Dr. Holmes glanced
to his left and noticed through the tall, narrow window that darkness had set in. It wasn’t even a darkening sky of a day coming to a close; it was pitch black and well into the evening.
Jeffrey cringed at the realization that he’d spent his entire day working with this new patient at the expense of the other residents at Henderson Home. The long session was incredibly productive though. The story was winding down, and the patient would benefit from some time alone for self reflection.
Dr. Holmes would also benefit from a few days break to consolidate his notes and devise a comprehensive treatment plan for the patient. The session went very well, but Jeffrey was all too aware he’d been shooting from the hip the entire time rather than approaching the situation in a methodical and constructive way.
It was time to wrap the session up and send the patient on his way with some parting thoughts to ponder until their next session.
“You’re a fascinating man” Jeffrey commended, “So much so that we’ve spent the entire day together. I think this was an excellent first discussion. We definitely have a good open dialogue, and there is not a doubt in my mind that I’ll be able to help you as time goes by.”
“I feel much better already by finally getting my personal story out in the open,” Hastelloy said. “Keeping these dark secrets bound inside my conscience was a heavy weight to carry. The load is lighter now, and I thank you for that.”
“I am going to have Tara set aside some time early next week for us to talk again.” Dr. Holmes said. “Between now and then I want you to think about a few things for me.
“I believe you are suffering from a dissociative state,” Jeffrey began. “This basically means something so unimaginably awful happened to you or someone you love that your mind threw a switch. Rather than seeing and dealing with the events that happened, your mind created this make believe scenario so you can look upon the trauma through someone else’s eyes. In this case, an alien who lived during ancient Egypt.”
Dr. Holmes paused to assess his patient’s state. Having someone point out their mental flaws and issues can be a jarring experience for patients. Ultimately, the patient needed to know what was going on inside his mind so he could be armed with the knowledge and power to do something about it. Hastelloy seemed to take the information in stride and showed no signs of offense. In fact, Jeffrey thought, Hastelloy was probably not hearing anything the man did not already suspect about himself. He was far too smart not to.
“I want you to think about the story you told me today,” Jeffrey continued. “When you do, consider the possibility that your mind might be playing a trick. I want you to consider the events you recall might be taking place in the here and now rather than ancient Egypt. Think about how that story might go in today’s world.
“Another thought I want you to consider and spend time on in self reflection is the violence in your story. The violence is coming from a place of extreme anger inside you. Harboring fantasies about killing people is not healthy. If you have anger within you, let it free. Don’t project it through violent imagery. We need for you to come to terms with that anger and this fixation on violence.”
“Violence was a way of life back then, and it still is
today if you make the extra effort to see it in the shadows,” Hastelloy said. “You like to think humanity has evolved beyond its propensity for violence and cruelty. I am telling you, it’s closer than you think.”
Hastelloy stood up from his chair and extended his hand. Dr. Holmes followed suit and clasped the patient’s hand in a stiff handshake.
“Dr. Holmes, I have enjoyed our talk. I will do as you’ve asked, but will you do something for me? The next time you are walking down the street, driving through the city, or talking to someone on the phone, take the time to go beneath the surface of what you are seeing or hearing. You might be surprised how close evil and violence really are to you.”
“I will do that,” Jeffrey responded. “It certainly seemed to work for you in your story when Mosa made the same request of you. Though I doubt I will be killing any would be rapists in the shadows, but who knows what I might find and be able to help resolve.”
Jeffrey released his grip on the patient’s hand, walked over to his desk and pressed the intercom on his phone. “Tara, Hastelloy and I are finished for the day. Would you please have Terry escort him back to his room.”
“Of course,” Tara replied in her usual chipper tone.
Seconds later the office door opened allowing Tara and Terry to enter the room. Without a word, Terry crossed the room and ushered Hastelloy out. On Hastelloy’s way to the door, Tara gently brushed her hand on the patient’s shoulder.
“Have a good night,” she said as she shut the door behind the departing pair.
“Tara, do you know Hastelloy from anywhere?”
“No. Though he does remind me of a teacher I had back in high school.” Tara’s voice trailed off as she looked up toward the ceiling. “I had a crush on that man that just wouldn’t quit.”
Tara allowed the daydream to continue another few seconds before shaking her head slightly to pull her back to reality. “Why do you ask?”
Jeffrey let out a soft laugh. “Looks like that crush is still going.
Remind me sometime to give you a lesson on a little phenomenon called transference.”
“It’s eight o’clock now, so if you want to give that lesson tonight you’re going to have to pay me overtime and buy me dinner from the takeout menus.”
“You’re on your own for dinner tonight I’m afraid,” Dr. Holmes replied as he hastily grabbed his coat and briefcase. “Can I walk you to your car? I prefer strength in numbers in this neighborhood at night.”
“I’d appreciate that,” Tara said as she gathered her own effects from her desk. “I was just starting to get my hopes up that we’d be in here through dinner. I already had the most expensive item on the menu picked out since it was going on your tab.”
The two continued their banter walking down the hall toward the exit.
“I can’t believe I lost track of time like this,” Jeffrey admitted. “Your crush in there is quite the charming storyteller.”
“Oh, just stop right there, mister,” Tara said as she nudged her boss with a stiff elbow to the side as they left the building.
Tara made it safely to her car, and she began pulling away when the car lurched to a stop. Tara hung her head out the window. “I almost forgot. Your brother called while you were in session. He wanted to talk when you got some free time.”
“Alright, thank you,” Jeffrey said as he waved goodbye with his left hand and reached for the cell phone with his right.
Jeffrey pressed the appropriate speed dial button and held the phone up to his ear. “No time like the present,” he said to himself as he paced toward his own car. The phone rang twice and then picked up.
“Hey, bro. Tara said you called earlier. What’s going on? It’s been a while.”
“Hey Jeff,” a depressed voice responded. “I’m glad you called back. I’ve really had a day. Work had me all over the place. Feels like I’ve traveled along the entire eastern seaboard in the last few hours.”
“You’d rather be busy than bored right. It could be worse. You could always get stuck in a job like mine where you sit in the same chair all day, every day. At least you’re out and about.”
“The grass is always greener on the other side I guess. Right now I’d take a few days of pretending to listen to people boo hoo about their problems. I’d certainly catch up on my sleep that way.”
“Oh, the respect you have for my profession,” Jeffrey prodded. “I had a new patient today whose story I think would keep even you awake.”
“Oh y
eah, do tell,” the voice answered.
“Well with the client patient privilege and all, I could tell you but then I’d have to kill you,” Jeffrey teased.
“Hey, that’s my line. I didn’t see you undergo the rubber glove treatment to get top secret clearance for your job,” The phone barked back. “Just give me what you can. I could use a good story to ponder on my twelve hour flight to Cairo.”
“Cairo, Egypt? Mark, why in the world would the government need to send you there?” Jeffrey asked.
Hastelloy shuffled into
the tent he shared with Mosa. His body was over seventy years old now, and he could feel each and every one of those years. The Sigma bodies were powerful and resilient, but like anything else, they were also susceptible to time. Forty years had passed since he and Mosa led the slave exodus out of Egypt. From that day forward the exiles wandered the desert hopelessly lost in search of the ideal location to permanently settle. The search to this point had been futile thanks to Hastelloy’s expert use of his navigation unit.
Mosa lay motionless in her bedroll. She was almost eighty years old now, but she still had a distinguished beauty about her. That beauty was fading quickly as she succumbed to the final stages of cancer.
Part of Hastelloy was relieved the years of aimlessly wandering in the desert were coming to an end, but a bigger part was going to miss Mosa terribly. For the first time in his ten thousand years of life, Hastelloy would soon deal with the harsh finality death brought with it. The prospect of a person’s soul existing one minute and being extinguished like a candle the next was incomprehensible to him.
Hastelloy gently brushed Mosa on her shoulder with the palm of his hand. “How are you feeling today, wife?”
“About as well as you look husband,” she said with a soft laugh. “Is today the day we find our promised land?”
“No, but tomorrow will be.”
As Hastelloy expected, Mosa immediately sat up in her bed and gave the discussion her full attention. For forty years, Mosa would ask each morning if today was the day and Hastelloy’s answer was always ‘No, but maybe tomorrow.’ The subtle change was not lost on her, and he beamed with pride that his wife, despite her age and condition, was still sharp as ever.
“Amazing. Even after forty years you’re still full of surprises,” Mosa said with anger starting to creep into her aged voice.
“If you liked that one, then you’re really going to be impressed with me today,” Hastelloy said.
Outwardly he conveyed a playful smile, but inside he knew the conversation was about to turn deadly serious. A betrayal of her confidence was about to be revealed that would likely lead to her never speaking to him again. After all these years it was finally truth time.
Mosa’s words carried an icy chill around the edges as she asked, “It’s quite a coincidence that within a day or two of my death we finally reach the Promised Land don’t you think?”
“Not really,” Hastelloy sighed. “You’re the last living person over t
he age of five to witness firsthand our flight from Egypt. You saw things in those days that no one should have seen.”
“What on earth could you mean?” Mosa said with unmistakable sarcasm. “The earth trembling, the river turning to poison and a pillar of fire blazing from the sky happen every day. My personal favorite was the staff that parted the waters of the sea for us to walk to the Promised Land. These are all common events, right?”
“Now that everyone who witnessed those events with their own eyes has passed, the stories can degrade into legend,” Hastelloy added. He took out his navigation unit and activated the holographic display.
“It’s a doubly special day isn’t it?” Mosa mocked. “It’s been decades since I saw that little toy of yours. I was starting to think I imagined it, given how long we’ve been lost. It must be broken right?”
“It’s been working just fine,” Hastelloy admitted. He touched a few buttons and a red line was drawn across the map. A straight line led away from the pyramid construction site. The line crossed a river and then the sea into a desert peninsula. There the red line became possessed and drew a path resembling a plate of spaghetti.
“I’ve been leading you and your people astray for decades now. I’ve been waiting for the last witness to pass on before releasing them to flourish on their own.”
With his last admission, Hastelloy grimaced as he braced for a verbal lashing unlike anything he’d endured before. To his surprise, she simply smiled and shook her head.
“Why would you possibly think I didn’t suspect that already?” Mosa said finally. “You inflicted a lot of hardships on these people over the years. That is your demon to live with.”
Mosa gestured for Hastelloy to open the front flap of their tent. Immediately outside the tent a couple dozen children played a game of tag, screaming with delight as they did so.
“I have every reason in the world to hate you for that hardship. I also have every reason to love you for what you did for us. You could have let Pharaoh’s army kill us all along the shore to keep your secrets. You could have stopped the beam while we crossed the sea and let everyone drown. That also would’ve protected your secrets.”
Mosa extended her hand for Hastelloy to hold. “Instead you led us to safety. If you took the easy solution those children out there would never have existed. You leading us around aimlessly for our entire lives served the greater good for my people. At least our descendants will have a chance at happiness rather than not existing at all.”
Hastelloy met his wife’s tender eyes for the first time with a clear conscience. Though an immeasurably heavy weight was lifted off of his mind, the moment brought him to his knees as he collapsed into her arms.
Mosa compassionately held his head and asked for the one truth she didn’t already know about her husband. “Who are you, Hastelloy?
“You’re a good and honorable man, and that’s been enough for all these years, but before I die I need to know the truth. Who are you and where did you come from?”
Hastelloy collected himself and sat on the floor next to his wife. “I could tell you but I’d have to kill you,” he said with a grin.
“It’d be worth it since I only have a few painful hours left to live anyway.”
Hastelloy took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Where to begin he thought?
“At night when you look at the sky,” Hastelloy said finally. “Those points of light are really suns exactly like the one we see during the day, they’re just farther away. Many of those suns out there have planets around them much like this one. I come from one of those points of light. The two creatures you called Anubis came from a different point of light. We were fighting up in the sky in our ships, and we both crashed here with no way of getting home.”
“How did you get from your point of light to here?” Mosa asked. “What kind of ship were you in?”
The complexity of space folding and flight would be lost on Mosa. Hastelloy took a moment to create an analogy she might comprehend. “When you and your people first started to move around it was on foot. Then you noticed you could train horses and camels to be ridden so you were able to get places quicker. Then you attached wagons and chariots to move even faster.”
Hastelloy paused before continuing to make sure Mosa was still following along with his description - she was. “My people have been coming up with faster ways to move around for millions of years. We’ve gotten really good at it so crossing from my point of light to here is not difficult anymore.”
“Then you truly are gods who fell down to earth from heaven,” Mosa said.
“No. I’m just a man who knows how to build faster chariots and hone sharper swords. Technology like this device,” Hastelloy said gesturing to the navigation unit, “may look like magic or godlike powers to you, but it’s just a fancier tool. Nothing more.”
Without another word, Hastelloy picked up a rock from the ground and smashed the navigation unit to pieces. “I don’t need this anymore, and I
can’t have it discovered when I die. Your people aren’t ready for such tools.”
Hastelloy abruptly stood up. “Now, are you ready to lead your people to the Promised Land?”
Mosa’s eyes sparked with joy, but as she attempted to rise from her bed the reality of her frail condition set in. “I’m going to need your help; I don’t even have the strength to stand on my own anymore.”
“It would be an honor to assist you on the last few steps of this journey,” Hastelloy said as he scooped Mosa’s sickly body into his arms and carried her into the open air.
Hastelloy proclaimed for all to hear, “
Mosa has received a final vision from our God. The Promised Land is right over that rise to the west.
”
Hastelloy carried Mosa that direction and the entire tribe eagerly followed their lead. When he’d nearly reached the summit, Hastelloy set Mosa on her own two feet.
Her legs quivered under the strain as she grabbed Hastelloy’s arm for support. Every muscle in her withered frame strained against an irresistible force dragging her to the ground. Her upper body listed to the side and threatened to topple over. As Hastelloy feared, Mosa’s illness was so incapacitating she couldn’t finish the journey on her own. She needed help.
Hastelloy moved forward to take her into his arms again when the unthinkable happened. Mosa angrily brushed his help aside and slowly, triumphantly rose to her full height. Every ounce of her being focused on the crest of the hill that was only a few steps away. Slowly, Mosa shuffled forward under her own power, dragging the illness with her.
Hastelloy’s heart leaped with pride. A lesser being would’ve given in to the weakness and pain. Anyone else would’ve collapsed to the sand in defeat. His wife had no business standing, let alone walking in her terminal condition. Sheer determination willed her forward. Mosa would finish the journey she started naked and alone forty years earlier; nothing was going to stop her.
A lush, green valley came into view as Mosa ascended the hilltop. The land was abundant with water, animals, plants and anything else a person could possibly desire. The tribe behind them cried out with joy and a jubilant celebration ensued.
The magnificent sight was all Mosa could handle. Her legs held out just long enough for Hastelloy to catch her fall.
Mosa buried her tear-filled eyes in Hastelloy’s chest. “I can die happy now.”
Hastelloy collapsed to his knees and quietly held his wife’s embrace amid the singing and dancing. His stomach sank as he felt each of her breaths grow more shallow and labored than the last.
Suddenly Mosa gasped and shuddered in pain as her body lurched with violent convulsions that Hastelloy strained with all his might to contain.
Mosa managed to control her arm enough to move Hastelloy’s hand over her mouth and nose. She pressed with what little strength she had left, but it wasn’t enough to end her suffering.
Mosa opened her eyes one last time to meet Hastelloy’s frightened gaze. “Help, for the greater good. Please,” she whispered.
Hastelloy closed his eyes and gently nodded up and down. Then he pressed the palm of his hand to Mosa’s mouth. He poured every ounce of love for his wife and anger with the situation into his hand. He held the air tight seal until Mosa’s painful convulsions and breathing came to an end.
Finally, Hastelloy removed his hand and looked upon Mosa’s face one last time. The aura of distinguished beauty and triumphant will were gone. What remained were a faint smile and an expression of gratitude.
Long after the deed was done, Hastelloy held Mosa’s body. His inconsolable grief stood in stark contrast to the singing and dancing around him. For the first time since childhood, tears fell from his eyes and tickled his cheeks. He reached up with his hand to wipe them away, but the touch of his wife’s murder weapon caused him to sob uncontrollably.
He tried taking comfort in the thought that he spared the woman he loved from an excruciatingly painful death. What’s more, he did it at her request. No consolation came though as he knelt in the sand and mourned the loss of Mosa’s life force for all eternity. For the first time in his life the soul of a person Hastelloy cared about was gone; never to return.
“For the greater good,” he whispered softly.
END OF BOOK ONE
Help me out:
I sincerely hope you enjoyed the story of Hastelloy and his crew. This is the first novel I have written and would really appreciate your feedback with an honest review on Amazon.com.
First and foremost, I am always looking to grow and improve as a writer. It is reassuring to hear what works, as well as receive constructive feedback on what should improve. Second, starting out as an unknown author is exceedingly difficult, and Amazon reviews go a long way towards making the journey out of anonymity possible. Please take a few minutes to write an honest review.
Now I hope you will enjoy a sample chapter from book two in the Origins series.
Best regards,
Mark Henrikson
Volume 2 Coming in November 2012
Origins: Centurion’s Rise
Dr. Holmes opened
the door to his inner office and there, sitting in one of two chairs flanking a coffee table in the middle of the room, sat Hastelloy. If the doctor’s sudden entry startled the man, it didn’t show in the least. Hastelloy calmly glanced up, rose to his feet and met his psychiatrist with a stiff handshake.