Under a Starless Sky novel Chapter 44

Ally McBeal, Barry White “You’re my First, my Last, my Everything,” dance routine, led in subtle by Shen, picking up TL, and five Orbs projecting holograms of the original cast members at the age of the show’s airing. Not perfect. They had aged. Harrison accompanied his wife- he had aged. He danced funny. Tree Spirits joined in. “And you said I couldn’t teach you anything,” TL said.

After the dance he wanted to talk to Harrison, but the ghosts and all disappeared. Glowing orbs remained.

“Was I dreaming?”

“Aren’t we all, all the time?”

They went into emulating Ginger Roger’s and Fred Astaire’s dance class scene, from the 1936 ‘Swing Time.’ The band blended it into a chorus of Begin the Beguine, which led to an emulation of Fred Astaire and the Eleanor Powell’s performance in the 1940’s ‘Broadway Melody.” When the band struck up Frank Sinatra’s ‘All of Me’ they became Steven Martin and Lilly Tomlin. This led to their cool down, a Tai Chi routine, that picked up everyone and again became a musical affair- only Shen and TL bowed out and the ghosts continued on.

Shen and TL were now 19. They were in sync. An orb became a singer, and the song became a slow dance that became a love affair. Solange, ‘Cranes in the Sky.’ The Great Hall was suddenly empty. They were alone. No musicians but music filled the hall. They kissed and melted into each other. They were one. Days were spent like this, exercising, yoga, dance, making love, simply caring for each other. They pretended to be characters in movies, navigating the Great Hall’s holographic set. They didn’t just re-animate scripts, but did variations, simulating a preferred progression that they believed would have made stronger scripts.

The ghosts watched. They played characters sometimes. Sometimes they were character. The cellphone girl continued to be lost in her phone to the point it was almost a gag. Shen took the phone from her once and she got so mad she disappeared in a flash.

There were sad days, too. Irksome returned, old, an unable to cough out tar. They performed a surgical procedure, suctioning it all out, but he still died. TL cried for days.

“It’s my fault,” she said.

“How do you figure?” Shen asked.

“If I hadn’t intervened, maybe he would have died healthy,” TL said.

“He lived longer than any damn bird I know,” Shen said. “Hell, you’re crying more for him than you will for me.”

She tried to laugh, wiping her eyes. “He knew to come home, so we could help him.”

“Or, he came home so he could die with family,” Shen said.

TL eyes shifted, going deep. “Jon. You changed.”

“How do you figure?”

“How could I have missed it?” TL said. “I must be malfunctioning.”

“Or this is just the benefit of using personality filters for so long?” Shen asked. “The knowledge is in you, but your filters held you fixated...”

“If I had said that to you…”

“I would have been livid,” Shen said. He kissed her. “So, what’s on the agenda? Trekking some goats to Midelay and seeing if we can trade for knowledge?”

“It is time,” TL agreed.

They gathered supplies. They rounded up goats for the trade. They fell and made love again, this time in the warmth of the sun, in the hay. They lay there debating if they would travel on the morrow when an internal alarm went off. TL instantly recovered from being lazy. “Incoming wormhole!” Shen became equally energized.

They both ran towards the gate, their uniforms re-clothing them while not hindering their progress. There were a number of gates leading down the tunnel to the portal that had to be passed. Shen had considered it excessive till now. His heart pumped with excitement. The corridor leading to the gate room diverged, fanning out in a V. Stairs up, control. Another two ‘gates’ led to the portal room. TL went up to the control room. Shen went down to the portal, passing through several more security doors that locked behind him. Chevron locks on the portal itself were engaging, constellations illuminating. Ambient tones sounded, like Asian crystal bows coerced to sing.

Shen was in the gate room when the sequence completed and the super illuminated, super fluidic entangled particle membrane formed in their gate- and popped like a sail caching a wind. A party emerged laughing. They were tall people. Dressed like Vikings. Handsome men, even handsomer women. The party came to a halt. Two males, one female, reached for their swords. The other woman retrieved her bow. The blond man motioned for them to hold. He proceeded down the ramp.

“Welcome, travelers,” Shen said.

“What is your name?” the blond man said. He had an accent. He was not speaking Tamorian. Shen heard his translator kicking in- a funny thing, the tech read the mind of the other, a translation came into his brain, and so he heard English even though it wasn’t. The illusion of English was so good, he couldn’t even discern the lips not moving with English. The tech would translate his response directly to the recipient’s brain, and they would experience their native tongue.

“Locally, they call me Shen the ghost, friend of the Forest,” Shen said. “Back home, I am Jon Harister, and I hold a rank of Captain. Let me guess, you’re Thor?”

His friends laughed. The tension on the arrow eased.

“You’re a comedian,” the man said.

“No one laughs when I make jokes,” Shen said.

“I see. I am Arne,” he said. “We have intruded on your sanctuary. Forgive us. We must have used the wrong Runes.”

“I did not…” one of his friend’s began.

His hand gesture was subtle. The woman became quiet.

“I am neither injured nor offended,” Shen said. “I welcome you and your people to speak their minds. If you are pressed for time, I can speed you on your way. But if you are hungry, thirsty, or weary I will provide you accommodation. I would be honored to have your company.”