Skies Over Tomorrow: Constellation (28 page)

“Grasp hold of worry, Elder, for I have witnessed the coming. The Sol descendants of our ancestors who seeded the neighboring world of our erstwhile home have made their way to us. They have in fact come upon the Sharizardians. With that exchange is the sign of the spiritual awakening.” The High Priestess then opened her eyes and turned her head to look at her follower. “As sad as it is for you,” she said, “as I know your fondness for Shen, take solace. His enlightenment from being in the presence of the Holy Orb revealed to him the same vision as I have foreseen. Unlike those who have gone before, he is truly without doubt, and so he welcomed passing to the Realm of Eternity, for the quest requires as much. He continues it, Akron, even as we speak now. He is destined to awaken the Sol descendant who will bring peace to us all.”

“I am sadden, indeed,” the high-ranking monk said, “but I have placed my faith in the Creator, for Shen's sake, and for all things to come. May Her wisdom guide us.”

“May Her wisdom guide us,” the high priestess said.

The elder bowed his head and then stood and left the exalted prophet to resume her meditation.

Outside the beam that illuminated the head position of the round conference table, sat the general commander of the Macrocosm Alliance Corps. The two politicians and the director of the Galactic Division of Investigations that were present just could decipher his shadowed face—beyond the gleam of his eyes. Only the low hum of conditioned air, as it passed through the vents of recessed down-lights, was heard in the dim room. A light and a flow of chilled air fell across each of the four men.

“Are we waiting for someone?” said Commander Wilkes of the GDI.

“No,” said the general commander. “Councilor Bellmon requested this meeting.”

“Yes, thank you, General for calling this meeting on short notice,” he said, sitting up to the table. “I only wish to readdress concerns of how we are handling the problems that are compromising the Federation. I fear the situations are getting out of control, and it would appear our efforts to resolve them are only worsening the matters.”

“Not this again. Your worrisome ways wear on me, Bellmon.”

“Wilkes,” said the general commander, as he held up his right hand. “Councilor Bellmon,” he then said, resting the hand with the other on the table. “Everything is fine.”

“No, it is not,” he said with contracting brows. “We've committed sixty percent of our forces to end the Morrillian insurrection. There are rogue Hyper sapiens the GDI can't seem to catch—”

“My best agent is resolving that matter as we speak, Bellmon,” said Wilkes.

“Oh, really? What does the GDI plan to do about the one on Earth, who I understand is a psion master at this point and is committing acts of terror on New Earth? Then there is the problem—which concerns me the most—of Mars' indigenous inhabitants returning here under a declaration of war.”

“You seem to have a point, Councilor,” said the general commander. “What is it?”

The room fell quiet, and Councilor Bellmon took a deep breath. “My point is this,” he said. “We're straying from the utopian ideal that founded the Federation. We are repeating centuries old mistakes made by our forefathers. The same greed and lust for power that dissolved the old patriarchal nations of Earth will ruin the Federation. History accounts for the state of Earth just when we begun life here.”

“Yes, I know,” said the general commander, “and I understand your concerns. Let me give you peace of mind once more by telling you that we can only preserve the Federation by crushing the rebellion and neutralizing all class B humans. Only then can we concentrate on the more pressing matter of protecting the Federation from an alien invasion.”

“I agree,” said Councilor Carmichael. “I've explained a many times to my colleague that we are in a position to protect, sort of like a parent. Disobedience should be met with disciplinary action. Also, with regard to class B humans, it is I who created them, and the idea of letting them go to do their own thing is out of the question. They are dangerous and must be neutralized as quickly as possible.”

“Rest assured, Carmichael,” said Wilkes. “It won't be long now.”

“We are no different from Earth's old governments,” said Bellmon. “I had hoped you would see the mistakes we are making. Perhaps it was my mistake to become party to this.”

“Councilor Bellmon, we need your support and that of the High Council,” said the general commander. “Everything we are doing is in the best interest of the Federation. We can't defend ourselves from an alien attack if we are not whole. The Federation must remain strong and united. Do not quit now.”

“If we are to be united, then we should at least tell the United Nations of Earth the truth,” he said. “If we lose Mars, Earth will be our last hope, so we owe it to the UNE to be forthcoming.”

“It isn't that simple, Bellmon,” said Wilkes.

“It doesn't have to be this complicated, either!” he said, and paused to collect himself. “If our want for Earth is so great, we should just get it over with, and invade and conquer it.”

“If we did that, then citizens and colonies would want to know why. We can't justify invading Earth at this time without warranting further dissention among our colonies,” said the general commander. “Moreover, Earth is still recovering. In its fragile state, another war will shatter it such that the planet will be of no use to anyone. At all costs, we must maintain the Federation and the freedom it provides under Federation law as best we can. Without it, there will only be chaos.”

“With it,” said Bellmon, “there is only servitude and the bondage of freedom.”

The general commander squinted at the councilor.

“Sooner or later, colonies will recognize this, and the insurrections on Morrilla and Sync shall not be the last,” Bellmon said, leaning back into his chair. “I fear we are proving that the cliché of history repeating itself to be very true. Man seems to be resigned to an evil fate of believing intellect will allow us to overcome adversity, where if we had a sense of humility, life would not be so bad.”

“Perhaps,” said Councilor Carmichael. “General, you have our support and that of the High Council—despite my colleague's concerns.”

“Very well, gentlemen,” said the general commander.

The councilors stood and left the room. After they were gone, the general commander looked to the GDI director.

Wilkes nodded. “I'll
talk
to him,” he said, and standing up from the table, he then exited the room.

Alone, the general commander sat at the round conference table and leaned forward into the light, exhaling a deep breath through his nostrils.

Skies Over Tomorrow
is a metaphor of the future, whether it be tomorrow, next month, or two years from now, and on a conscious level—especially of the world in which one lives—its purpose is to reflect certain truths about the progression of humanity, or its regression. It all depends on how one looks at the achievements of man.

This reflection of humanity, by and large, goes beyond the text that embodies it. With the production of
Skies Over Tomorrow
, a number of character illustrations, sketches, and technical designs were rendered, and it seemed quite natural to have some of these drawings complement the stories, as a means to liberate and bring forth from their fabricated existence in prose—and in the mind—people and things imagined and created to exist within the universe of this work.

In actuality, some character drawings and mechanical designs preceded the manuscript. More specifically,
Sailing Home, Alien Femme
, and
The Ritual
are responses to questions derived from the art. The very answers provided from those particular narratives later spawned the remaining three tales and, in a way, completed a cyclic relationship between the graphics and the stories, in which only after the later three were written did illustrations for each come about.

The sections of art that follow are meant to sharpen one's imagination. With the principal intent of
Skies Over Tomorrow: Constellation
being the prelude to an epic adventure, the illustrations are a gift to you, the reader.

SAILING HOME

ALIEN FEMME