Untitled - By Mark Balliet
Please, if you're reading along as I'm writing this, send me an email, even if you're just stopping by to peek. Hey, it's cheaper than buying a book! The fun of writing a story, is two-fold :
* Writing it I get the thrill of creating a world, and for a short time live in it, among the characters in my novels.
* Secondly, I get feedback from the readers of the story. I love to get feedback, email me every day if you like and let me know what you think.
A group of LJers (and perhaps far beyond) started a Novel month in July, named JulNoWriMo, July is a much better month for me to write, so here goes, I'm taking the plunge again, and boy does it feel good! Writing is in my blood, sometimes it runs like a cool refreshing waterfall, and other times it roars like a forest fire. The muse calls, and must be answered, not because I'm forced to, for a more powerful reason, because I want to.

So, if you read, peek, peruse, scan, ponder or anything else, please drop me an email : posicat@pobox.com
Please include 'JulNoWriMo' in the subject so my spam filter doesn't kill the email.

This even includes people who have let me know in person you're reading. Please, It's a small favor to ask.
Untitled - By Mark Balliet

(Updated 7-1-2005)

They were here again, the scanners had sensed them leaving hyperspace. Unwanted as they were, warned, attacked, destroyed as they had been before, they still kept returning.

"We are here on a mission of peace, to re-establish a peacefull and cooperative union between our worlds. We're here to bring you home."

In a darkened command center, where three people sat, listening to the scanners, and the communication traffic, a button was pressed, from twin locations miles apart, small missiles arced into the sky, beyond the atmosphere. The voice was silenced. Smoldering, a trail of smoke followed the ship as it's orbital velocity carried it over the horizon to the ground.

"When will they learn, we don't want their help." an angry voice questioned.

Under a bright blue sky , near a quiet trickling stream, Jerar looked over the barren landscape. Soon, this empty expanse of tan rocks would be changed. Their city would grow, trees, and animals would begin the slow, foot by foot march towards the horizon.

Jerar was still young, he understood the very basics of the technology that was slowly changing this world. The air the city made was good, they could breath it easier, but it kept blowing away to the empty parts of the world. Someday, the city, and the life that grew from it would be big enough that the air it made would be big enough to not blow away. This world where the First Five had crashed on years ago, would eventually live on it's own.

Jerar took a deep breath, he caught a wisp of the living air from the city, but not much. Too much of the dead air of the world, he would move slow, and have little energy until he returned to the city. Someday, he looked forward to being able to run across the ground as he sometimes dreamed, like he could in the air of the city.

Most of the others didn't come out this far from the city, they didn't like the slowness the dead air caused. Jerar didn't always see things the same way as everyone else, the rest were angry. They expanded the city for the next generation, they talked endlessly of the world they had come from, the world that the First Five had been forced to leave. Also, they spoke of their struggle against the planet, their days spent readying ground for new plants. Jerar found the planting fun, it was something he liked to do, to help, the rest saw it only as work. He knew it would get harder as he grew older, but he didn't think he would mind next year when he turned thirteen, or even when he was thirty, and worn out. He was happy with his lot in life, rather than a burden he saw his work as something to be happy about, to be proud of.

Jerar breathed deeply a couple more times, slowly he took in enough of the air from the city, and he could feel his body coming alive. Again and again, he breathed in, until finally he could run. Happily he ran away from the city, the grey ground beneith him blurred. It wasn't long until he collapsed on the ground, his energy exhausted, his lungs burning. For that brief moment, he had run where no others would, had done something they never would try. It would be an hour before he built up enough energy in the dead air to stand up again, and it would be another hour of slow walking until he was back where he had started. Two hours to cover the distance he had run in two minutes, he was out further than any of the rest would go. He smiled.

As he lay on his back, looking up at the stars, he caught a trace of light on the horizon, it grew brighter, a trail of smoke behind it. Jerar watched helplessly as it neared him, at first he thought it would hit him directly, but in the last few seconds, he realized it would miss by a reasonable distance. Curiously he watched as the burning hunk of metal dropped from the sky, it tore into the grey rock and vaporized. A flaming shrapnel flew towards Jerar and impacted the ground just feet from him, the burning metal shattered, and a sparkling mist of dust and rock settled down on top of him. He closed his eyes, but could still see the sparkling of the dust through his eyelids. He felt the burning of the hot metal on his skin. He grew more tired, and felt sleepy, and soon blackness surrounded him.

"He'll wake up soon, he's fine." the voice spoke with practiced calmness. "The burns were only superficial, and within a day the scars will be healed."

"I'm awake now." Jerar whispered. He breathed back in, the cool air of the city.

"What were you doing that far outside the city Jerar?" his mother asked, pulling him to her arms.

"It's quiet and peacefull, I went for a run. I was trying to catch my breath when it fell out of the sky."

"Silly Jerar, only you would find running to exhaustion peacefull. It was another of those ships, you know, from the other world."

"Why do they keep coming, if they know we'll shoot them down."

"I don't know, eventually they will learn to leave us alone. Now, it's time to come along home, you've missed your morning work, the supervisors will understand, but they won't be happy. It's going to take many generations of us to turn this world into something more than just struggle and survival. The First Five knew that, each of us is from their blood, and we will help pay the sacrifice they started. Their plans guide us, and we are succeeding. We now number in the hundreds, all decended from those five."

"I know the stories mother, I've heard them since I was born, and I am glad to help change this world." Jerar smiled. "Most of us arn't happy to do the work like I am."

"Yes, silly Jerar, only you are happy to have to do this work. Our people are meant to be so much more, we are meant to fly amongst the stars, and some day we will again have the resources to do so. But not in our generation, we will work, and die to change this world."

Jerar wanted to question the arrival of the ships, how they were always shot out of the sky. Why not wait for them to land, and meet the people onboard. He'd asked those questions before, but they made his mother angry. Those ships were from the world where the First Five had come from, where they had been exiled from. No one would answer those questions with anything other than a glare.

Weeks went by, Jerar worked his job, and in his free time he visited the edge of the city. The debris from the ship had been removed, no doubt to be recycled into the city, resources were scarse as they were. Only a small crater and scorched rock remained. It made Jerar sad to look upon it, and he often chose to visit other borders which didn't remind him so much of his quesrions.

Jerar visited the air source, over the years it had become a temple to his people. Three hundred feet wide, the hole plunged deep into the planet, down further than he could see to deep within the ground where the planet's heat powered the processes that created new air. Pipes ran out of the ground nearby, carying hot water from the core

(Updated 7-5-2005)

"This is where the First Five gave their lives to allow us to begin winning this world. This shaft was first dug by the First Five, and their children. They brought heat from below up to the surface to keep themselves warm, and power their tools." the historian began.

"However, they began to see the dead air on this world caused us to be slow, wore us out at a younger age. So, they sacrificed themselves, their bodies melted together, and decended to the bottom of the shaft where they became the lungs and soul of this world. Their individuality is gone, sacrificed to help change this world. Their memories remain, and guide us towards the future. When we die, our memories will join with theirs, and forever we will be remembered by our world."

Jerar had heard this all before, he nodded off slightly in the back rows as the crowd listened to the recalled history of his people. Briefly he dreampt about falling down that great hole, about being swallowed in complete darkness as the First Five had been when they sacrificed themselves. How far did it go down into the ground? There were those that said it went to the very core of the world, how long would it take to fall that far? No, he had been taught the core of the world was liquid rock, at great temperature, the pit couldn't go that far, it had to be where the rock was still solid.

As he pondered the reality of his world, he fell in his mind, further into the world, in complete darkness, before he could reach bottom he was shaken.

"Jerar," his mother quietly whispered, "there will be time for sleep later, right now we must respect the historian, and listend to him. Even if it is a story we have heard before."

"Why?" Jerar whispered.

"Because the story is important, it's the story of how we began, why we work as we do. It's important to remember these things, so we never loose faith."

"I remember, but I have heard it so many times, it puts me to sleep."

"Try to stay awake, out of respect if for no other reason."

"Ok mom." Jerar smiled, soon he had drifted off to sleep again as the historain's calm voice droned on. He did not see his mother's quick frusterated glance at her dozing son, and this time she did not wake him until the historian had completed his tale and the crowd began to disperse.

After the story, they went to eat lunch. Jerar ate enough so his mother would not worry about him, but he was not hungry, there was too much on his mind.

The afternoon's work was relaxing to Jerar as he sorted through the rocks the adults had broken from the ground. Already he had a talent for finding the rocks that contained valuable minerals. Like other Sorters, he instinctually knew what was within the rocks. Even at his age, he was quicker and more accurate than the Sorters who had been doing this for twenty years. Jerar had little doubt when he grew up he would continue to do this kind of work. Soon one of his baskets was full, it was the special rock with the green veins. This was a good day, they were digging in a good place, Jerar slipped the strap on the basket over his shoulder. Proudly he carried these rocks to the hole, there they would be ground up, mixed with water and poured down the pipes that lead down into the planet.

He went back to work, and soon had a second basket full of the rocks. He again carried the heavy rocks to the hole.

"Back already?" one of the grinders asked.

"They're digging in a good spot today." Jerar smiled.

"Indeed, I haven't seen this much ore come so quickly in a long time."

"Can I watch you grind it?" Jerar asked.

"I suppose that would be ok." the grinder shrugged.

Jerar watched as the rocks were fed into the huge machine, giant metal rollers crushed the rock into pebbles, smaller rollers crushed it into sand, and this continued until the wind threatened to cary the dust away. The basket of fine powder was then poured into buckets of water and mixed until the water took on a green tint.

"Want to pour this into the pipe Jerar?"

"Yes!" Jerar bounced up from where he was sitting, he picked up the bucket carefully, and poured the green slury into the basin, which drained down the pipe.

"Good job." the grinder smiled.

"I'll go get more rocks." Jerar offered, taking his basket and running back to the sorting tables.

"Silly kid, I hope he never looses his enthusiasm, we need more people like him." whispered the grinder to his coworkers after Jerar was out of range.

Jerar ran back to the pile of rocks, he picked one of them up, and held it. His eyes widened, the rock was slightly warm. Inside the rock, he could feel light. Jerar clutched it to his chest as he carried it over to his supervisor.

"It's radioactive." Jerar proclaimed proudly, holding the rock up.

"Is it?" the supervisor asked. Jerar watched him take a metal device from his toolbox, and hold it up to the rock. "Yes, it is. How did you know?"

"It's warm, and I can feel the light within it."

"You are going to be an expert sorter when you grow up Jerar. You can feel the rocks better than anyone I've ever met."

Jerar just smiled.

"Take that rock over to the factory, ask for Kla she will know what to do with this rock."

Jerar almost ran to the factory, rock clutched to his chest. After asking around for a moment, he was directed to Kla's section of the factory.

"It's radioactive!" Jerar thrust the stone towards Kla.

She checked the rock over, holding it in her hands for a moment. "Very nice, good quality, this will help us produce power for the machines."

Jerar didn't have time to smile, as a wave of blackness washed over him, and he fell to the ground.

"What's wrong with him?" Jerar heard his mother ask.

"It appears that he was exposed to radiation that has done some damage. It's all repaired now."

Jerar shook his eyes open. "The rock I had was radioactive, but that kind of radiation can't hurt our people."

"That's correct Jerar, it wasn't from the rock, though that may have caused the reaction to speed up. I believe you were exposed to something toxic when that ship crashed." agreed the Doctor.

"There was some sparkling dust that covered me, it was very pretty."

"And very deadly if left untreated." the Doctor replied. "Kla from the factory thinks the radiation in the rock caused a reaction in the dust that was inside you. That's good, otherwise we may not have found out about it until it was too late."

Jerar attempted to sit up on the table, but his left hand would not move easily. He struggled, and finally pushed himself upright.

"Something's wrong with my hand." Jerar said with scared eyes.

"Your brain was hurt by the dust. We treated and removed the dust, but you may need to see another doctor to repair the damage in your brain."

"It will be hard to work, without both hands, but I will manage." Jerar sighed.

"I will have the other doctor come to your home as soon as possible to get you up and going again." this Doctor offered.

Jerar worked hard for the next three days, his lame left hand slowed him down, but his enthusiasm more than made up for his limetation. Seven more baskets of the rocks with green veins, Jerar found, some almost green completely. He was sad to not find any more radioactive rocks, he had wanted an excuse to meet with Kla and ask her about the other radiation from the ship. That beautiful sparkeling dust, what was it really? The adults never explained things to him completely, even though he was a child, he could understand the complexities of the situation. But, if it was never explained, he would never understand. "It's not fair." he said as he carried his rocks to the grinders.

On the evening of the third day, there was a knock at his door. One of his brothers went to answer the door at his mom's request.

"Are you Jerar?" A voice asked.

"No, I'm his brother."

"I'm Dr. Crof. I'm here to see Jerar about his hand."

"Dr. Crof, nice to meet you." Jerar's mom said, walking to the door, "I'm Jerar's mother."

"Pleasure to meet you as well." the Doctor smiled. "Do you have many children?"

"Jerar, Dai his brother, and Luhe his sister. Their father died three years ago, but we do alright."

"I'm sorry to hear that." the Doctor offered. Something in his look said he had heard that story all too often. Death was expected in this dangerous world, where his people clung to life.

"This is Jerar." his Mom offered, pointing him out.

"Excellent, is there a quiet place we can go to work with him?"

"We can go to my room." Jerar suggested.

The doctor looked to Jerar's mom for verification.

"If your floor is clean enoug that the doctor won't fall on his face, it's ok."

Jerar nodded and led the doctor to his room.

"So, Jerar, I understand you've had a bit of an unusual adventure."

Jerar was all to happy to explain his adventures. He became a little more quiet, and needed some prodding to discuss his blackout and trip to the hospital, but before long the doctor had a background to begin treatment from.

"Jerar, let me into your mind please." the doctor requested.

Jerar hated this, he knew he could keep his private thoughts private, but it felt odd for someone else to be walking around inside his head. He swallowed twice, and relaxed his mind, allowing the doctor's thoughs to enter his mind.

Soon however, the doctor had looked over the situation, and found the damaged portion of Jerar's mind.

"Make your hand into a fist." the doctor asked.

Jerar tried, and his hand moved, uncoordinated, nothing had changed. "No good." he sighed.

"I haven't done anything yet, just trying to see what's damaged. Now, try sticking each finger up, one at a time."

Jerar concentrated, slowly they moved, each movement requiring concentration and real effort.

"Ah, there we are. Hold it like that." the doctor whispered. The doctor hummed to himself as if an artist painting a painting. He frowned twice, then smiled. "There we go, try that."

Jerar opened and closed his hand, it was back to normal. Jerar stuck his hand into a sunbeam, and made a talking face on the far wall. "Wow, thanks!" Jerar smiled.

"Glad to be of help. Now let me look around, and see if there's any other damage, then you'll be ready to go." The doctor closed his eyes, and wandered around Jerar's mind looking for anything else out of sorts. Quiet subtle noises were the only indication he hadn't fallen asleep, but soon he opened his eyes again. "I think that will take care of things."

"What was wrong?" Jerar asked.

"When part of your brain was damaged, the link between your motor function neurons and your physical neurons was erased. I re-connected the two systems, using your left hand as a reference. I guess that's a little much for a child to understand."

"I understand. Most adults would simply say they found the cord that was unplugged, and plugged it back in."

The doctor laughed heartily. "That they would. It's hard to know what any patient really understands, and how much goes over their head."

"I'd rather know, how else am I going to understand?"

"Right. Some people like to hear it as simple as possible, not just kids, adults too." the doctor patted Jerar on the back. "Well, you're ok now. Any problems, let me know."

Jerar nodded, and the doctor left his room, let his mother know everything was fine, and went on his way. Jerar went back to work for the afternoon, glad to be able to use both hands.

It was several weeks until Jerar had his next blackout. While he was carying a load of rocks to the hole, he felt dizy, the world around him swirled, colors changed, melted, he blacked out. He was on the ground when he came to, several passers by had stopped to see if he was alright.

"I'm ok." Jerar replied to the questions. "I'll go right to the doctor after delivering this basket." he promised.

Soon, he was sitting on the bed in the hospital, waiting for the mind doctor to arrive to take a look at him. Everything was clear, the world around him remained solid, and he didn't feel dizzy at all.

"So, you had a little problem today." the mind doctor said as he entered the room.

"Yes." Jerar replied, explaining what had happened.

"Ok, let me take a look." the doctor said, stepping into Jerar's mind. Only the noises of the hospital could be heard as Jerar was examined.

"That's odd, there's more damage to your mind. I've repaired it, but I'm not sure why it happened to begin with. Let me get the body doctor."

Soon several specialists surrounded Jerar, checking, and prodding him with instruments, and talking amongst themselves. Sometime during the procedure, Jerar's mom joined the comotion. Finding nothing wrong, the doctors prodded some more, and finally announced.

"We can find nothing wrong. Perhaps this is still something left over from the initial damage done. We'll need to watch things, and keep an eye on Jerar to make sure he's doing fine."

Jerar was worried, it wasn't like the doctors to not know what was going on. He could tell his mom was worried as well.

"I'll be ok, I'm tough." Jerar smiled trying to look authentic.

His mom hugged him.

For weeks, Jerar went to the docotor during his work lunch break, they checked him over, and pronounced the same every time "Everything looks good." Besides the prodding, the visits wern't all that bad. The doctors were smart, and had since learned not to talk down to Jerar. Jerar would occasionally catch himself smiling on his lunchtime trips.

Soon, Jerar was visiting weekly, the doctors still said everyhing was good, Jerar himself felt fine as well.

All was not well, weeks after his last blackout, Jerar again felt dizzy, the colors of the world melted and changed, and he staggered. Staying on his feet, he steadied himself as the attack passed, and the world cleared up. It wasn't as bad this time, he excused himself from work, and went to the Doctors.

The mind doctor checked him out, found damage and repaired it. "Something keeps causing this damage, but I'm not sure what."

Jerar shrugged. "It doesn't happen during the same type of activities, this time I was sorting rocks, the previous time I was carying them. The first time they were radioactive, but we haven't found any of those since."

"Always after sorting rocks?" the doctor asked.

"So far, 3 times, the first time we know what caused it." Jerar nodded.

"Sorting rocks is a skill that seems to be based in the subconsious. I think we may need to keep you here overnight to find out what's going on."

Jerar was less than happy to stay overnight, but he trusted the doctors who had recently come to feel like family to him. He dreampt strange dreams that evening, as the doctor remained in contact with his mind, but remembered very little about the dream when he awoke.

In the morning he awoke to his mother and the doctor talking. "It looks like some very deep damage to the very foundation of his mind, it could get better over time, or as it looks, it will get worse. We can keep repairing the damage for now."

"For now?" his mother asked.

"As we treat him we can gain understanding of what's happening, for now, all we can do is repair the damage until we understand what's happening."

Jerar closed his eyes, it didn't sound good.

"Our people are very resillient, and it takes a lot to hurt us beyond what we can heal. Part of that is because we're shapeshifters."

"Shapeshifters?" his mother asked.

"Not on this world, it takes a lot of energy to change shape, and we can't spare that energy to do so. But, yes, in a better place, with energy in abundance, we can change our shapes. That art is all but lost on this world."

A shape shifter? Jerar thought, suddenly he imagined having wings, and soaring on the wind like the birds in the old stories. How far, and how fast could he run if he were a tiger. It didn't matter, he knew, he more than realized what energy cost on this world. But still he asked himself "How much energy?"

The weeks passed, and Jerar didn't suffer any more blackouts. From time to time he would get dizzy, but it didn't prevent him from completing his work. He saw the doctors weekly, sometimes there was nothing wrong with him, sometimes there was something to repair. Always he felt better afterwards.

"Why do we shoot down the ships from the other world?" he asked one of the doctors.

"That's a tough question, what did your mom say?" the doctor asked worriedly.

"She won't tell me. I understand from the lessons that the First Five were from that world, that they ended up here, and almost died trying to survive. The Five were angry at the other world that had kicked them out. But, why are we still angry at them, why do we shoot them down every year when they come to our world."

"I don't know. The memories of the First Five live on, and those that make these kinds of descisions can enter those memories and share them. I'm sure there are good reasons."

"I've been angry at my brother before, if I died, and my memories were recorded, wouldn't my memories stay angry at my brother forever?"

"I imagine so, but the people who experience those memories would be able to remember the good and bad, and like you would eventually grow past the anger. The living can change their minds, the dead are only remembered."

"And if our leaders don't choose to visit the good memories?"

"Why wouldn't they?" the doctor asked.

"When someone is angry, sometimes it's easier to stay angry." Jerar sighed.

"I have faith in our leaders, I'm sure there's a reason." but the doctor didn't look as sure.

That afternoon, the world lit up pinfully bright white, then went black. Jerar didn't awaken for three days.

"What's wrong with me doctor." Jerar asked.

"The part of your mind that acts as a foundation for everything else is damaged. It almost certainly happened in the ship crashed."

"Can you fix it?" Jerer asked.

"Some of it, but not all."

"What will happen?"

"Right now it's only effecting your motor control and your senses. Over time it could progress into your memories, and personality."

"So," Jerar said with sudden clarity, "I'm dying?"

"Your mind is, yes. We will help you as long as we can."

Jerar only realized his mother was in the room when she ran out the door crying.

"I don't want to die." Jerar said.

"None of us do, and we'll certainly do everything we can to prevent it."

"Thank you." Jerar said.

That evening he went to the edge of the city, and sat in the middle of the crater where the ship had landed. He cried slowly in the dead air.

Dispite the occasional blackouts, some minor, some more serious, Jerar went about his life quite normally. He came to terms with his condition, what good was living, if he was going to spend every waking minute dying. He poured his efforts into his work, and continued to sharpen his skills as a sorter. The attacks started to come more regularly, at first it was every couple weeks, and soon it was weekly. It wasn't until one of the attacks perminantly damaged his control of his left leg that he really felt he might be dying.

"Tell me about the First Five, and how their memories live on." Jerar asked the historian. Almost subconsiously Jerar had walked to the hole, and breathed in the life giving air, almost in a dream he asked the question.

"The first five crashed on this world many many years ago. They struggled, and survived, their children took on the struggle, while they died to create the air producer below."

"Why did they hate the world they came from?"

"The world hated them, and exiled them. They were trying to find a world of their own when they crashed here. This became their world."

"When I die, will my memories become part of the soul of this world?"

"Some are chosen to join, I cannot say if you will be or not."

"I don't want to die and be forgotten."

"None do." the historian sighed, and walked away.

Jerar followed him. "How do I relive the memories of the First Five, I need to understand why we are here."

"Only our leaders partake of this ritual, you would have to ask them."

Jerar sighed, and wandered towards the leader's office. Five leaders, one to represent each of the First Five. He did not go in, instead he sat outside and listened to them discuss. They talked about the expansion of the city, of disagreements between their people, and about how the process was going. Nothing sounded as if it were of great importance to them, as if they had had each of these conversations hundreds of times before, and would many more times until they died. By day they worked the world, doing as they must, and at night, they talked about it. For weeks, Jerar listened at the window of the office, listened as the numbers changed, as the city was planned, and disputes settled. Everything robotic, everything as it had always been done.

Jerar took some of the numbers home in his head, and worked out the details. The air output was minescule to the actual size of the planet. When he was not working, he used the math he was learning in school, and researched more in the library. Two thousand years, until the air volume of the planet would be converted. A generation of people only lived thirty years under these conditions. Well over fifty generations of his people could be born, and die as a sacrifice to turn this into a living world. Why had the First Five chosen this path, surely there had to be a better way, for his people.

(Updated 7-11-2005)

One evening Jerar went to the office, it was vacant tonight. Jerar was about to head back home, when he heard the voices. He crept inside, and listened to the darkened silence, they wern't inside. Heading back out and heard the voices again, and looked around. Indistinct the sound was very hard to locate, Jerar sat still, and tilted his head trying to catch the faint sounds. Closing his eyes, he began to walk towards the sound, soon he could make out the voices of the council members, then words. When he opened his eyes he was facing towards the back wall of the council chambers. Looking more carefully in the evening light, he noticed a crack, then a second, they were connected. Pressing gently, the hidden door swung slowly open.

Dim light escaped through the crack, and Jerar peered inside. Five leaders sat around a silver ball suspended above a small shaft. Their hair blew gently in the breeze coming out of the shaft. Jerar breathed in the air blowing through the crack of the door. It was living air, it was strong, Jerar felt energized simply from the slight breeze escaping the door.

He watched, the council members sat silently, they took turns placing their hands on the ball, they sat silently as a grave look came over their face.. Jerar noticed a gentle glow where skin touched the ball. Could this be the way the council members connected to the memories of the First Five? Jerar thought it likely, fresh air coming from the hole below, the trance like state the council members were in. It seemed likely.

Jerar's ears perked up, there was a sound behind him. Quickly he turned, but saw nothing. He quietly moved from building to building until he was several blocks away. Once he was far enough away he stopped sneaking, and walked normally back to his home. Jerar fell asleep planning the next evening.

Time seemed to be broken as the day lingered on. Jerar, as he always did, sorted his rocks. Today however he was moving slower, his thoughts preocupied by his discovery. Was it possible he could really touch the memories of the First Five, learn what had happened on this planet that sent them down this path. Jerar fought to concentrate on the rocks that he was going through. When they found a vein of radioactive ore, Jerar was not as excited as he normally would be. Jerar thought of the silver ball, as he carried the warm radioactive rock to the factory.

As he handed over the rock, he asked Kla. "Why do you suppose were here? On this world, I mean."

"Were here because this is where the First Five crashed. Or were you refering to fate? Why out of all the life in the universe, were we born here, instead of somewhere else, somewhere easier."

"I've wondered that." Jerar admitted.

"I like to think of it as a challenge." She smiled, "In an easier place, with a softer life, we could not show what we are capable of. I doubt anyone off this world would even consider it habitable. Yet, here we are, it's not easy by far, but we have proven what we can do to survive. Why us? Each of us is a combination of our ancestors, the weak, the strong all mixed together. If enough strength makes it into us, we flourish, if not we die. Generation after generation the strengths we need to survive on this world build, and we become better."

"If only it wouldn't take so long to change this world, do you know how many generations have yet to be born, who will live this life?"

Kla shook her head. Her head shook again when Jerar explained his numbers to her.

Kla frowned, "That's a long struggle, a huge sacrifice." She sat down and thought, the frown grew stronger. "Yet, if we stop, all that has been acomplished is for nothing. We must keep going. I wish I only had the vague assurances of the Historians, I do not like knowing."

"I agree, until a better way is found, we must continue on."

"Then we must not simply keep doing what we have always done, but we must push the boundaries of what we can do, speed the process up."

"The council won't, I've listened to them for over a month, they're the same from night to night, always the same."

"You listened to the council meetings? That was very disrespectfull, it may be against the rules even."

"I know, but I found myself there listening even so. Their ways are even more set than the rest of us." Jerar shrugged. Was it because of the memories of the Five they share? Jerar wanted to ask, yet thought it better to keep his discovery silent.

"You must stop, if they catch you, there will be trouble." She said sternly, then after a moment "What did they talk about?"

Jerar explained the conversations he had heard, Kla was surely looking for something less mundane, and seemed disappointed at how bland it was.

"That's all?" she asked.

"That's all." Jerar nodded, "Night after night, it doesn't change."

"Then fifty generation of our people will die to change this world, unless something is done."

"I know." Jerar whispered, "I need to be going, I was just supposed to bring this rock to you, and come back, more work needs to be done."

"You more than any understand that." Kla said, bowing to Jerar.

Finally, after the ore was sorted, and the baskets carried, Jerar left work. Quickly he ate his dinner, and retreated to the dark of his room. Beyond his closed window the sun slowly set, until darkness replaced the light of day. Jerar went outside, and walked towards the council chamber. Their five leaders sat in their regular office, Jerar listened for a moment, and heard the same words he had heard many nights before. Quietly he crept around the back of the building, and pressed on the stone wall. It inched open, and Jerar squeezed himself inside, pressing the door closed behind him.

Jerar's eyes tried to adjust to the darkness of the room, there was no light for them to see. Jerar closed his eyes, and envisioned the room from the night before, carefully he walked, feeling his way across the floor, each footstep searching for the shaft below the ball before he shifted his weight. Directly in front of him the floor dropped off, he peered down, and thought he could see a faint light from deep in the shaft. Reaching out in front of him, he placed his hand on the ball. A warm tingling raced through his hand, and where his skin touched the ball, it glowed a light red.

Nothing! Jerar sighed, after the warmth and the tingling, there was nothing. He sat there in the darkness for long minutes waiting. "How does this work?" he whispered into the darkness. Jerar sat down hand on the sphere, this darkness was familliar somehow.

In the darkness, Jerar had reached out for his friend, pulled him from the rubble. His friend was cold, he didn't move, he was dead. Jerar had cried for his friend. Suddenly a hand had pulled him away, over to where his other friends were sitting.

"How many were lost?" he had asked.

"Three, you found the last one."

Tears were in his eyes, he closed them, felt the hot salty liquid roll down his face and burn as it fell on the cuts in his legs. "It wasn't supposed to be this way." he cried.

"We were not the ones who made the choice, they kicked us out."

Jerar's hand pulled away from the sphere. That wasn't his memory, he had never lost a friend like that. But, until his hand had broken contact, it was his memory, there were tears on his face, but no cuts from the crash. Jerar realized he had remembered someone elses memories, for a moment, he had been one of the First Five.

Hesitantly he placed his hand on the sphere again. Jerar closed his eyes, he remembered today, finding the radioactive rock, he thought back further, when he had first started working. Back further yet, his first memory of his life, he was crying, the cut on his finger was bleeding, and the pain was more than he could stand. Mother was here, arms wrapped around him, the blood on her shirt from where he hugged her back. Soon it no longer hurt, and she carried him home gently.

Back further he remembered lying in bed, his skin wrinkled and leathery. "You will be remembered." a soft voice said. The air grew still around, him, and Jerar remembered back further as he avoided remembering someone elses death.

"Why are we here?" Jerar whispered, the sound bringing the memories to his mind.

"We're loosing air." a voice called out through the blaring sirens and flashing lights.

"We were hit by something. Did they fire on us?"

"I didn't see any of them on the readout, I think it was something else."

"I told you this would happen, that there would be an accident, that we would die in exile."

He looked around, eight stearn faces looked back at him, one by one they nodded.

"What do we do?" asked one of the faces.

"We land, wherever we can find, we repair this wreck, and move on."

"There's a planet, close by, there's air there, if we have enough to survive."

"I can seal the breach." a quiet face said.

"How, we don't have the tools."

"I didn't mean with tools." the face said somberly, he steped backwards to where the whistele of air was bleeding out of the hull, there was dent in the panel which he turned and ripped off, the whistle grew lounder.

"We'll just loose more air, stop!"

"No, we won't." the quiet face said he backed against the wall, the rushing air pulled him towards the wall. There was a thunk as he stuck to the wall, the whisteling changed pitch.

"You'll be sucked out!" another voice cried out.

"No." the quiet face said, contorted by the pain of the air pressure pulling on his body. His face relaxed, and he closed his eyes. His chest became rigid, his skin became grey as steel. His arms rippled as if made of water, and absorbed into his torso, his legs shortened, and flowed into his body. Soon he was only a blob of thick jell being pulled out of the ship. His chest collapsed against the wall of the ship, but the thickened skin resisted, it held against the pressure the rift was sealed.

Seven faces looked on in horror as one of their own sacrificed his life to seal the ship.

"It won't hold forever, make for the planet."

There was a grim seriousness as they raced for the planet, they entered the atmosphere fast, and the hull began to heat. In the air they began to smell the burning acidic smell of their friend's body, the patch to the hull had begun to bubble under the heat.

"It's not going to hold" a voice called out as the side of the ship exploded.

Jerar looked forwards, the noise and screaming behind him were secondary to what he needed to do, he pushed it from his mind, as his muscles strained to hold the controlls, they were going straight down, and the atmosphere wouldn't be enough to slow their descent. If he could only time the retro rockets correctly, one moment too late and they would smash into the rocks below, too early and they would stop in mid air, then fall, and smash into the rocks below.

Now! He thought, pressing the button. It was close, but not perfect, he knew that they would smash into the rocks below, even before the ship collapsed around him, into the side of this barren world.

Five left, out of eight, one gone to save the others, and two crumpled into the ship. That five had survived was impressive considering the landing.

The five of them sat silently around a glowing twisted piece of wire. Damn atmosphere was too thin to burn anything, but they could generate heat from the ship's reserve power.

Days passed, they stripped the ship of anything usefull, the rest was left behind.

From the parts they setup makeshift shelter, they ate the food reserves on the ship until they managed to produce their own. Slowly day by day, week by week they made more of a home out of this world. Life support from the ship could manufacturer limited ammounts of good air which they used when they had tasks that required strength, otherwise they moved slowly, breathing in the atmosphere of the planet, which was enough to keep them alive, but not much more.

Life had become routine within a year, in two their first children were born. Piece by piece they fought the world, and battled to compromise. Soon the tools on the ship had dug a hole into the planet, there was great cheering when water pumped into the pipes returned as steam, the planet's heat was soon put to use generating energy to power their tools.

Dispite their acomplishments their bodies wore out quickly in this harsh environment. In this air their bodies didn't have enough energy to repair themselves, and gradually over time this aged their bodies.

The five survivors gathered around the shaft that ran deep into the planet's crust, as their friend had done on the ship, they too must sacrifice themselves. Death would come soon either way, but it was a better death this way.

"Our memories will live on as the spirit of this world. Our bodies will become an atmospheric processor to generate air for this world, but the changes we must undertake to become this will destroy us, our minds will be gone."

"This world has done all of that already, but fate be damned, our children will live on, this world can't resist us foever."

One by one their bodies flowed together, into a pool of silvery liquid that poured down the shaft towards the core of the planet. The First that Jerar was remembering waited until last, controlling the process, remembering all the details so future generations didn't forget, then he too melted into the pool.

Jerar pulled his hand from the sphere. So many details he had seen had never been discussed by the Historians, so much that was simplified. But the memories lived on in the air processor the First Five had become, all the details of everything that had happened.

Jerar still had questions, and he placed his hand against the ball again. The sound of his question to himself pulled him into the memories. "Why were the exiled."

The memories came slower, as if they were long burried, all but forgotten. Jerar sat silently at the sphere, concentrating on the memories that slowly appeared. His face contorted with the emotions that the memories brought, anger, rage, uncontrollable hatred, horror, fear, despiration.

Jerar pulled his hand from the sphere, and whispered words this worlds air had never made before, "The First Five were murderers, they were criminals, exiled instead of executed. Three had killed, while the rest of the eight had tried to dispose of the bodies.

Jerar with tears in his eyes still wanted more, he reached out. "What was their world like?"

Jerar caught his breath as he remembered blue seas, green forested hills, and grassy plaines. This world had a spirit of it's own, but a spirit of reverance, not anger as his own. The original world was alive, the fields and trees were living beings, all connected through the spirit of the planet. He could see in shadow of the First Five's memories just how many memories had joined the spirit of the planet, how much the planet could remember about those who had given their memories to it. There were cities, but few and far between, everything lived in a state of nature, a perfect balance not by trial and error, but because the billion of minds on the world worked together, to create the balance. In space, high above the surface, giant ships traveled amongst the planets of the system to other colonies, and mining facilities. These ships were themselves part of the cooperative of minds on this world forming a huge eco system that spanned the solar system, perhaps beyond.

His hand left the ball.

This is what their world could one day become, a mirror of their original world. No, Jerar thought, a shattered mirror of that world, this world's foundation was in the memories of the First Five, who had murdered, and crashed here. The world would be imprisoned by that hatred until it grew strong enough to lash out, and attack the world that had exiled the First Five. Jerar already see his world would loose that battle, that it would crumble and fall, but not before it had destroyed the peace and beauty of it's parent world.

Jerar whispered again "They keep tryin to reach us, the ship that crashed was from there."

A more recent memory came to life. Jerar was an old man, sitting in a dark room, there were computers like the First Five's ship had contained. Jerar had never seen one, but now remembered clearly what they were for. Three people sat in this room, as Jerar had a purpose in the mines, these people's purpose was to watch the sky, protect the city.

"We are here on a mission of peace, to re-establish a peacefull and cooperative union between our worlds. We're here to bring you home." the speaker said.

The memory felt rage, these people didn't want peace, they wanted to finish off the job they had started, to destroy the survivors of the First Five forever. Jerar fought the memory for control, but it was just a memory, there was no changing what had happened. Two missiles were launched towards the ship, it was hit, and fell to the world, Jerar remembered as it crashed towards the outskirts of the city. It fell in an area he was painfully familliar with. Jerar remembered firing the missiles that brought down the ship that had almost crashed on him, where he lay catching his breath.

Jerar pulled his hand away a final time, "No, how can the council not know, how can they not see that this is wrong."

The darkness didn't answer him as he pulled open the door to the chamber. Bright morning light flooded into the room, and Jerar realized he had been up all night with the memories.

Work wouldn't begin for another hour or so, Jerar walked home.

"Where have you been?" his mother asked.

"I fell asleep at the edge of the city." he lied.

"Well you're here now, eat breakfast quick, or you'll be late for your work."

Jerar shoveled down the now tasteless breakfast food until he was full, and left for work. The work routine was comforting to him, even if he realized how insignificant each rock he sorted was. Still, he took pride in finding the radioactive rock to take to Kla, until he realized what it was for.

Jerar handed the rock over to Kla as he always had, but there was no happiness in his eyes.

"What's the matter Jarar?" Kla asked.

"You're building missiles you know."

"What?"

"The radioactive rock, it's not used only for power, it can be turned into missiles as well."

Kla stared for a moment and asked, "How do you know that?"

"I figured it out." Jerar answered. He wanted to trust her, but he didn't want to reveal how he had leanred what he knew.

"I suppose it could be made into missiles. We don't get enough of it to make many missiles."

"Enough to shoot down the ships from the other world." Jerar replied.

"Yes, it would be enough for that."

Jerar turned and walked back towards the mine. Suddenly the world swirled around him, and he fell to the ground.

"It was bad this time, but I think we repaired all the damage." The doctor said.

Jerar sat up on the bed, his mother was nowhere to be seen, and the doctor was talking to him.

"It could be worse." Jerar suggested.

"Yes, it could be." the doctor replied. On the tip of his tongue, Jerar heard "And soon it will be," but the doctor never said it.

"Go home to your mother, we sent her home to get some rest."

"How long was it?" Jerar asked.

"Two days you were out."

Jerar felt cold running down his back.

He went home, and hugged his mother, and went to bed. In bed he found he couldn't recall some specific details from the memories he had been a part of. His condition had progressed, he knew he had little time left.

The next morning he went with his mother to listen to the historians tell stories about the first five.

"The First Five were exiled from their homeworld, and set out to start a world of their own. They never made it to their chosen destination, they were on the edge of oblivion and they struggled, and survived. In time their children were born, and then grandchildren. The First Five then gave their lives to turn themselves into the air generator below that gives our world it's lifegiving breath. Exiled from their world, these Five have forged their own world. From the unfair persecution of their homeworld, springs our homeworld, and we continue the struggle."

Without a consious thought, Jerar called out "Unfair persecution? They murdered innocent people, and deserved death, instead they were exiled with a chance at life."

"They were exiled from their homeworld because of their beliefs." The historian called back, trying to be louder over the crowd.

Jerar's mother tried to put a hand over his mouth, but he shook her off, and stood, calling back just as loudly. "That is correct, three of them believed they could kill, and get away with it."

"Jerar, shut up!" his mother growled, but Jerar pulled away from her.

"Why would you say such things, Jerar." the historian asked, recognizing him.

"He is sick, he was injured when that off world space ship crashed." His mother called out.

"I would suggest you take him home then." the historian suggested.

"I have shared the memories of the First Five. I saw the murder, the trial, the offer of execution versus death. They were banished, and their ship struck by something. This is the closest world they could find to land on. There were eight originally, why don't we hear about the one who gave his life to seal the rupture in the space ship, or the two who died in the crash."

"Young man, please leave this assembly." The historian commanded.

"I have as much right to be here as anyone, these people have the right to know the truth of their history. We have the right to know why we are afraid of the other homeworld, and why their peaceful attempts at communication have been met with open hostility."

"The other world wishes us dead, they want to finish off their attempt to kill the First Five."

"I have seen the other world in their memories, I have seen the giant mining ships they could send, it would take a brief moment for one of these ships to scour our city, and the air generator below from the face of this world."

"How did you get this supposed knowledge?"

"Behind the council chambers, there is a hidden door, if you go inside it, this is where you can share the memories of the First, and those that have come afterwards."

"You entered the temple of the Five?" the historian screamed.

(Updated 10-19-2005)

"Yes, I did. I found out why we are here, things we were never told, and things we needed to know."

"Entering that temple is forbidden except for council chambers, and historians." the historian yelled, very visably upset.

"I assumed I was forbidden to enter, but I was curious. Luckily I did find out."

"Jerar!" his mother called, grabbing ahold of his arm.

"Mother." he said, pulling his arm loose from her grip, "We need to know this." he pushed his way past the seated crowd, looking at their stunned faces. At various places in the crowd he saw movement, heading towards himself, they were going to take him away. He pushed into the aisle.

"Entry is forbidden because it is easy to misunderstand the memories, to draw false conclusions about our heritage."

"There is confusion in remembering the act, watching the face of another dying by the weapon you remember holding in your hand?"

The historian was silent, he stared at Jerar, a look very similar to the memory he had recalled from the murder, as if someone had dealt him a fatal blow.

"We're not our forefathers, we don't share their guilt for killing, we only share their fate because their memory has kept us afraid of that other world. Another world that is intent on sending a ship to contact us again and again, even though we destroy every ship." Jerar walked down the aisle, as he saw those others coming to catch him, towards the hole was the only direction that he saw nobody coming.

"You are nieve to believe they want to rescue us, they're afraid of us, we're a resilliant people. They see us as a threat to their way of life, and they want to eliminate that threat."

Jerar had reached the railing that ringed the hole, he faced the historian standing in the next radial aisle to the left "No, they are the threat, they threaten our fears that they are here to finish us off. If that were so, why send one ship? Why send a ship at all when they could drop bombs from orbit."

"Maybe they want to do it in person, to watch us die, to be sure we're dead." the historian countered.

"No, they would send more ships, hundreds thousands. In our last moments we would see a sky with too many stars, then we would be dead. No, they don't want to kill us, they could have done it when the five landed, or at any time since. Instead they send just one ship."

"Jerar, quit this nonsense." his mother called out.

"I'm sorry mom." he said turning towards her. Suddenly strong arms grabbed him from behind, he kicked, and struggled, then dropped to the ground, a well placed kick, and he slid out of the arms. There was someone else coming in the oposite direction, and two from the aisle, he was surrounded. He grabbed onto the railing, eyeing the two foot wide strip of dirt between the railing and the hole, and lept over the railing. The croud gasped collectively as Jerar landed on the other side.

"Jerar!" his mother screamed, "Get come back here."

Jerar held his ground, and the people trying to catch him backed off slightly, not wanting to push him too far. "Fifty generations or more will live and die on this world as we do, nothing in their lives other this."

"All of this so bad? This is what we have created, from nothing." his mother asked.

"Yes, it is. How many of us have lived this way? How many have died knowing only this hard work? True what we have is a great acomplishment, but we're stuck this way because we're too stubborn to accept help. Because we think they want to kill us rather than help."

"What if they do want to kill us?" his mother asked.

"They don't. If they did, we couldn't stop them."

"Come back over here, it's dangerous."

Jerar meant to say "I know, but we must learn another way." instead the world swam around him, another blackout. He pushed back at it with all the strength his mind had, it pressed in, the darkness almost complete and suddenly his mind won, reality returned from the blackess of his mind.

Jerar gripped tighter to the bars his hands were closed around, except there were no bars, and he wasn't standing anymore. He looked up, thinking he had not completely fought off the attack, he saw only a circle of light, and darkness all around. He pushed at the darkness, but it wasn't in his mind, it was reality. He watched the circle of light grow smaller. He yelled something to his mother about how he loved her, but the circle was small, it should have been three hundred feet wide, and he should have been standing on the edge of it, holding onto a railing. Instead he was falling into the hole.

Jerar cried out for help, but nobody heard him, he fell, slowed by the wind from the fresh air coming from below. "So, this is how I will die, at the bottom of the hole." he said to himself. He spread his arms and legs to turn around, and looked down towards the darkness he was falling towards. Would it hurt, or would it suddenly be over.

Time passed he began to wonder if the wind from below had caught him, if he had stopped falling at all, and would simply float here until he died. No, the walls still moved past him, the wind had slowed his fall, but not stopped it completely. He had fallen so long now, he was no longer scared, a lifetime he spent in the dark, the circle above, and the darkness below, even though it was only a short few minutes.

Fire burned in his blood, as he fell he had been breathing the pure source of air, and the energy he felt was almost overwealming. He looked harder at the darkness below, towards where he was falling, nothing. After an eternity longer he began to see something below. At the bottom of the hole there was a light.

The circle of dull yellow light grew slowly bigger, the circle of white above was no longer visable. Jerar spread his fingers, his legs, he felt the push of the air on his body slowing him down even more. The circle below was larger still, he began to see what was beyond. There was a dark lake, brown, maybe a hint of purple, there were waves on it's surface, but they didn't seem to be moving. Jerar watched as his view through the opening became larger, the lake was huge, miles across perhaps. The hole grew closer, the wind seemed more fierce, and the fire in his blood burned, making him feel as if he should be blindingly bright, but he gave off no light, it was all in his head.

The opening grew larger, and larger, and finally he shot past it and could see what was beyond. The chamber was massive, he could only guess five miles wide, perhaps more, the brown-purple lake was still miles beyond him. Around the lake were sheer cliffs of jagged rock, they rose up to a ledge that circled the entire lake, that ledge had to be nearly a half mile deep. At the back of the ledge sheer walls rose up, curved inward, became the cieling, and butted up against the hole he had fallen from. At six equal points from the ledge narrow rounded platforms pushed out into the air above the lake. On the cieling large patches of material was illuminated, casting it's light below to give the yellowish twilight.

Jerar realized he was falling faster, the air no longer trapped in the narrow tunnel wasn't blowing upwards as fast, he spread his arms, and hands, desperatly trying to catch as much air as he could to stop his fall. The fire in his blood ignited, and Jerar melted, the wind ripped at him, grabbing him much more strongly than even the wind in the tunnel had. He slowed, and gently glided on the wings he now had, his people were indeed shapeshifters. Jerar tumbled through the air, as he learned to steer himself in the air. Once he had faught for control, Jerar guided himself towards one of the long narrow platforms. Had he had more experiance he might have been able to land on his feet, and run to a stop. Instead his feet touched the flat rock, stuck, and he tumbled forward.

He stood on the ledge and looked into the lake below, the waves didn't move, they were ripples in the surface of this brown-purple substance. As Jerar looked closer, he noticed small holes on the surface. This was what made the air, a giant pool of brown-purple, created air. Jerar walked towards the ledge, it was flat and extended back towards the cliff wall of the huge cavern. Over each ledge, there were holes, twenty feet in diameter, they cut directly into the cliff wall, and continued on into darkness beyond, a breeze blew in from these holes, bad dead air. Air came in these holes from elsewhere on the planet, perhaps miles away from the city, the sludge below changed the air, made it good air, and it then went up the shaft he had fallen down. That sludge was what was left of the first five, their bodies changed, and became the heart of this world.

Jerar looked down from the ledge, the cliffs were not as sheer or smooth as they had appeared from the air, and he began to climb down, using the jagged rocks as handholds. Halfway down the blackness surrounded him again, he tried to fight it, but this time it could not be called off.

"You are not dead, you do not belong here." a voice said in Jerar's head.

Jerar swam in the memories, not just his own, but the others he could remember, the memories of the five, and any who's bodies had joined and become one with the air processor. He was touching the heart, no, the soul of his world. When he had fallen from the cliff, he must have ended up in the sludge.

"I'll die soon enough, my doctor told me my mind is damaged, I will not live very long."

"We remember your memories, for the time you are part of us."

"Soon I will be part of you forever."

"You are incorrect, the damage to your mind was more than the doctors suspected. Another's thoughts, just a small moment of their life is within you. You inner mind believes it to be your own.

"Can I be healed?"

"Through us, listen to the thoughts, once you realize it is not your own, your inner mind will reject it."

Pure terror flooded through Jerar's mind, a brief glimpse of fire, and the city below him, willing the ship to push on. "Don't hit the city" he whispered to himself. A second of relief as the city passed, rocks were all he saw "I'm going to die." he said outloud, knowing he was still transmitting. Then nothing.

"The pilot, he tried to save his memories so they would go on if he died."

"Yes, that small memory is now part of us now."

"I thought you were just memories, when I touched the sphere I could remember your memories, but you never talked."

"For the moment you are part of us, we are just memories, but your mind is alive, consious, a piece of your mind, is acting as our mind."

"So, if I leave, you will die?"

"We will simply be memories again, as it should be."

Jerar thought, "I wish I could talk to that other world, let them know about us, if only the ship had not been destroyed when it crashed."

"You can." the voice sounded. A new memory came rushing into his mind, they were so strong being directly connected he winced at their impact, soon he would have to break contact. He remembered, the signal type, the way to reach the other world, and he remembered how to tell his mind to open the connection.

He pulled his arms free from the sludge, none of it stuck to his skin as it peeled off of him. He stood up, and climbed the cliff, once he was back on the ledge he sat down. His mind twisted in a way that he had never felt before, he could feel it reaching through space, an impossible distance.

A voice answered, "Central communication, your signal is unregistered, please identify."

"My name is Jerar, I'm not sure you would know the name we have for our world, Celfar."

"That world is not registered. Do you know it's coordinates."

"I'm afraid I don't, my people don't travel in space, we have only a small city."

"Hold on, I'm triangulating your coordinates."

"That's fine." Jerar smiled to himself.

"Oh! You're from there." the voice said excitedly. "One second let me bring someone in."

Another voice answered, "What do you need at this time of night Keral?"

"I just recieved a signal, you're connected to it now as well. The sender identifies himself as Jerar, he triangulates as transmitting from The Dissociated World, they call the world Celfar."

The new voice spoke "Jerar, my name is Farav, I'm a director in the Grayzax planetary government."

"Nice to meet you Farav, and Keral."

"Amazing, finally after all these years, a whisper in the night finds it's way home."

"Things on my world are tough, we survive, at the cost of almost everything else."

"We lost contact with the last pilot we sent to that world, he reported that he was shot down."

"He was, unfortunately, but a tiny part of his memory made it into my mind. If it wern't for that memory, and the damage it did to my mind, I might never have decided to find out more about our people, that led me to this communication."

"We never meant to cause any harm, allow us to link to your mind and we will repair the damage."

"There is no need, the heart of our world, it's memories understood how to fix the problem." Jerar opened up his mind to them, "But you may look anyways, my memories are yours."

Jerar felt a cautious conenction to his brain, far more delicate than his doctor had been. After a brief moment, the contact closed.

Farav smiled vocally, "Your mind is indeed healthy. I read some of your memories, the situation on your world is understood. You seem to have unique thoughts among your people, you may know better how to approach them than we do."

"I tried, they wouldn't listen."

"Yes, I saw that. I wonder though, if perhaps they may not have listened a little bit."

"I hope, I was trying to get them to understand what had happened in the past, how we lost because of our anger."

"We would love to welcome your people back to our world."

"I would live given the oportunity, though perhaps not forever. Many of my people would never leave this planet, too many of our ancestors gave their lives fighting for survival, building what we've managed to create."

"I understand that as well, Grayzax didn't start out the way it is now, it started out habitable, but we changed it over time to what it is now."

"I've seen it in memories, it's beautiful."

"Come see it yourself, you're more than welcome, all of your people are welcome."

"How, a ship will be shot down, and we have no ships of our own. Plus I'm stuck down a hole miles underground."

"Ships are just for energy efficiency, there are other ways, if you wish it."

"I do, very much."

The air in front of Jerar glowed briefly, and opened up, through the hole in the air Jerar saw green grass, and trees, and an old man standing there. The man was very old, 'near dying' Jerar's mom would have quietly whispered. However this man looked strong, and far from dying. Jerar stared into the opening, looking at the beautiful world on the other side. He breathed in the air that came through the opening, it was alive, not just like the air that came from the hole, but alive with sounds, and smells. He felt more energy pounding in his veins than he had ever felt before, more even than in the shaft. Jerar stepped though.

"Welcome to Grayzax, Jerar. Keral has duties to attend to and was not able to come." the old man shook his hand. Jerar recognized his voice as Farav.

"It's beautiful, such a world is beyond my dreams."

"Not beyond dreams, here it is solid and real. Your world can be like this one day, if your people want it to be."

Jerar looked behind him at the opening into the cavern behind him. "Traveling like that must take a lot of energy."

"It does, we prefer ships, but we have energy to spare."

"How long can such a passage like that stay open?"

"A hypergate? It takes a lot to open one, but once it's open it takes less power. It can be re-enforced so that it takes very little power to remain open."

"On the other side of the passage is the air processor that keeps our world alive, it runs on whatever power it can get from the heat of the world, and whatever minerals we can supply to it by mining."

"I see. Are you asking us for power and raw materials for the atmospheric processor."

"I wasn't going to ask." Jerar stated nervously, "Just mention it."

"Whatever it needs is yours, just ask. Here's a power feed you can connect to it."

Jerar felt a shapeless object handed to his mind by Ferav's mind, when Jerar took ahold of it with his mind, it burned like a sun, and energy coursed into his body.

"It feels like it's going to burn me up."

"That's not surprising, you've probably never felt what it's like to be fully charged." Ferav.

"You're sure it won't burn me up?" Jerar smiled.

"Absolutely." Ferav smiled warmly. Ferav explained how to connect the energy source to the air processor.

By the time Jerar had supplied the energy, a floating platform had arrived full of barrels of raw materials that Jerar had said were needed. However Ferav suggested that he meerly give the materials to Jerar, it should be Jerar's choice to give the materials to his planet. Ferav respected the territory of Jerar's people, and made a point to never step through the hypergame. "Some day, when your people invite me, I would be overjoyed to see your world." he had said.

Jerar took pride in pouring the materials off the side of the platform into the lake at the bottom of the cavern. The minerals were absorbed into the brown sludge, the motionless waves started moving, spreading out from the point where the minerals were introduced. Jerar realized his world was eating. He could feel the air production increasing.

"Ferav, can I borrow this platform?"

"Certainly, it is yours." Ferav offered, he showed Jerar the controls.

"I'll explain things to my people." Jerar said, directing the platform up towards the air shaft.

The temple was crowded when Jerar rose out of the hole into the temple. The airflow from the air processor below had trippled, and as he stood on the platform in the middle of the hole the wind blew around him. The people drawn by the dramatic increase in airflow, looked dismayed at the young man they had thought died hours before. Jerar looked for his mother, but she was not in this crowd. His sister Luhe however was.

"Jerar!" she screamed standing on one of the benches.

"Luhe!" Jerar shouted, having thought he would never see her again. He backed up on the platform, and ran, at the edge of the platform, he jumped harder than he ever had, and landed just inside the railing. Luhe ran over pushing through the crowd to her brother.

"I knew you wern't dead, I could feel it." she smiled.

"How could you know, when I did not?" he smiled, hugging her over the fence.

"I've always been smarter than you." she joked.

"I brought you something." Jerar smiled, and took her hand. Energy flowed through his body into hers, the look of surprise on her face, a sight he would never forget.

"The blasphemer is back!" called out one of the temple historians.

Jerar hopped up onto the railing, and over into the crowd, the crowd backed away, still unsure what to think of the recently risen dead.

"Luhe, can you run, I mean really run, get mom, bring everyone you can find." Jerar asked.

"I feel like I could fly if I wanted to." she said with a glowing face.

"Yes, you could." he patted her on the back "However you want, please do it quickly."

Jerar could see more historians across the hole, they were headed towards him.

"Clear the area, we must remove the blasphemer." one of the historians called out.

"No stay, it's time we settled this once and for all, time everyone understood." Jerar replied.

People backed away, to the outskirts of the temple, but they went no further, they could see in Jerar a determination they couldn't turn away from.

"What did you do to the atmosphere processor, Jerar?" one of the historians questioned, still closing in towards Jerar.

"I gave it energy, and minerals that were given to me."

"Where did you get that energy, those minerals?" he yelled back.

"I touched the heart of our world, and learned how to speak across worlds. The Homeworld of the First Five answered, and opened a path, a hypergate, for me to walk to their world."

"You brought them here?"

"They knew where we were, it was no secret, they could have opened a hypergate at any time. When they gave me access to their energy, to their minerals not one of them crossed through the gate, they recognize this is our world, and will not come unless they are invited."

One of the historians was nearing him, Jerar stepped quietly away from the railing, and walked towards the aisle. "Learn of our history, push your way into the room behind the council halls, the other world means us no harm, they will welcome us back, they will leave us alone if we ask, or they will help us build our world."

Someone from the crowd shouted "Send them away" people cheered with that comment, but Jerar noticed that it was far from a majority.

"No! Tell them they are welcome." called a voice walking towards the temple. Jerar looked, blinked twice. It was Tolia the head of the council, she had tears on her face. She was surrounded by the council, two more historians, and a few other of their people.

"Are you sure?" Jerar asked.

"We're glad to see you alive, Jerar. When we thought you were dead, we went to the Temple of the Five and searched the memories you challenged us to. You were right about the eight that set out, you were right about the five that landed, you were right about their crimes."

The historians circling Jerar stopped, and stepped back. One of them spoke, "The council has spoken, they are aware of things that we are not. While they choose our law, and policies, might I suggest that before we invite the offworlders to visit that we should call a temple meeting to discuss. There has already been enough turmoil over this issue, let's not create more by acting too quickly."

Tolia responded "Of course you are correct, it would be better for the offworlders and our people to come together informed and understanding. Please forgive my haste in light of this turmoil."

"Jerar!" he heard his mother's voice from behind him, "You're alive!"

Jerar said nothing, only ran for his mother, and hugged her tightly.

"You seem so much older than you were when this all began." she smiled.

"Funny, I was just thinking how many more years I had ahead of me than I had this morning. This morning I was dying in months, in the hole I found a cure, and I had only lived 1/2 my life, now I possibly have the full life of one of our people, one hundred, two hundred years, who knows."

"How is this possible?" she asked him.

Jerar explained brielfly to his mother as the temple area slowly filled in with his people.

"We have called this gathering together to discuss our city." concil head Tolia said, over the rapidly quieting din of the crowd.

She cleared her throat, "Jerar violated a place sacred to the council, and he fell into the hole arguning with us over the truth he found within. Because of his bravery, of his challenging the set notions of his people, he has discovered a disservice done to all of us a very long time ago, and perpetuated by our inability to question our beliefs. It took him, almost dying to force us to question, to verify we were the ones who were right. And, as it turns out we were not right." she swallowed hard.

"While we were discovering this, Jerar was not idle, he forged a friendship with a culture which should have been welcome on our world from the begining, his bravery purchased resources and energy which have sped up the process by which our atmosphere is generated. His actions alone have brought a solution that would have cost generations of our people, many generations closer to reality. Because of him alone, it may be only thirty generations until our world is truely ours. What more can we acomplish if we learn past this unjustified fear of ours, and welcome our cousins to our world, they have already welcomed one of us to their world."

"Counciler Tolia, I believe that offer was to all our people, I explained that many of our people wouldn't want to leave this world, it is our world, we sacrified a lot for this world. In respect of our people, the man I met, Ferav, refused to set foot on our planet until he was invited."

The discussion with the crowd continued on for hours, work for the day was abandoned. By night fall, as the lights of the temple came on, the croud was mostly in agreement, they wanted to meet representatives from Grayzax. Some were opposed to the uniting of worlds after such long time, others suggested that the other world would want retaliation because of the destroyed ships. Many were scared, others excited, but most trusted their council people, and were willing to take a risk to find out.

"Jerar, you are very wise for your age, you understand people, and their fears, and are not afraid to challenge them. For the moment, you are the acting ambasador of our people, I expect before long your position will be perminant."

Jerar nodded his head, and jumped back onto the levitating platform, quickly he began to descend. "Wait!" called Kla's voice from the crowd, "This is the right thing to do, and I would like to go with." Jerar moved the platform over towards the edge of the hole, and Kla climbed on board, Jerar was glad to see the wise engineer, one who had helped him make tough descisions would go with. Luhe ran over to the edge of the hole, and climbed over the fence. Jerar motioned her onboard without a question being asked.

Through the hypergate where one had passed before, passed three, but this time along with it passed the hopes and dreams of all of Jerar's people. Jerar smiled as he introduced Ferav to Kla and Luhe and explained the descision of the council. Kla and Luhe explored the lush green world that they had only dreadmed about. Meanwhile Jerar returned to his people bringing Ferav and Keral and two other high officials from Grayzax. Jerar smiled as he introduced his people to his people, for he at least felt like he belonged to both worlds, and to the stars above. Soon, he felt, those stars would suddenly be more numerous. Instead of the war his people feared, these new stars would land for the first time on his world, and begin building this world into a twin of the gleaming Grayzax. Their dream of the First Five completed in friendship rather than anger.