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| Story: A New Life - Chapter 9 Tuesday, 18-Apr-2000 22:42:53
Sarah's eyes slowly opened up, the rest of her gradually awakening as her internal clock informed her that it was morning. She slowly rolled over in bed, squinting at the alarm clock. 8:23 a.m., its read-hued digital numbers read. She had gotten almost nine hours of uninterrupted sleep - a record. She couldn't remember - off-hand - every having that much sleep in one night. She rolled onto her back, thinking of what she could do today. There was the usual house cleaning to do (you never could get away from that), plus that work she had brought home the previous afternoon, as well as a few errands and such. But none of that appealed to her; she wanted to enjoy at least a little bit of her first day off. Letting out a small groan of effort, Sarah pushed herself out of her comfortable bed and padded into the bathroom. That necessary morning even finished, she wrapped her plush, dark-green robe around herself and made her way to the apartment's front door to get the morning's paper. She retrieved it and walked into her kitchen. She picked out a bowl and poured some granola, adding some milk and a couple of strawberries for good measure. Pouring herself a glass of milk to round out her breakfast, Sarah carried the whole lot the ten-or-so steps to the small dining table and sat down. She arrayed the various items around the table to her liking. Gathering a spoonful of granola and milk, she unrolled the paper - The Denver Post, of course - and looked at the front page. What she saw almost caused her to expel the mouthful of cereal she had just placed into her mouth. There, in full color, was a picture of herself holding the baby she had rescued. "What?", she cried aloud in shock. She hadn't known that there had been any photographers in the vicinity! The picture contained a small blurred-out areas on her green body where the editors (she wondered which ones) had altered it, making it suitable for publication. There were two more pictures of her on the second page, also having been cleaned up, hiding her naked bust. Sarah couldn't even read the article; she was too busy feeling her face flush as the hot feeling of embarrassment rushed through her. 'I should have guessed that someone might do this....', she thought. 'Just because I didn't see anyone with a camera, didn't mean that they weren't there. What am I going to do about this?" Unfortunately, there wasn't much she could do about it. The damage was done. She gathered up her courage and began reading the attached article. It described how an "Amazonian green-skinned woman, dressed in nothing but tatters, had appeared at the scene of a terrible accident and had, single-handedly, saved the life of eight-month-old Jason Wright, who had been trapped in an overturned car." It went on to hypothesize on the appearance and show of strength of "this mysterious superwoman", but Sarah decided she had read enough. She leafed through the paper to go to the Comics section. Just when she began to read the latest from "For Richer or Pooer" - her favorite - the telephone rang. She stood up and answered it. "Hello?" "Sarah! Good, you're awake." It was her editor. "Have you read the front page of The Post yet?" "Yeah. I just got through with it." And she wished she had never seen it. "Those pictures were taken by some amateur photographer who was on his way back home from college. They're on the front of every paper in Denver!" 'Oh, great.', Sarah thought darkly. "I've got some of our staff going over the scene with the police and eyewitnesses right now. I want to be the first news agency to discover just who this woman is! In fact, I'm sending Roberta over to that mother's house as we speak to set up an interview with her. This is just plain amazing! We may have a super-powered Samaritan in our midst! This'll be your top priority when you come back to work Monday. Sarah? Sarah, are you still there?" Sarah realized that she had been holding her breath through Lana's side of the conversation. This was going from bad to worse. Now all of the newspapers and television studios would have reporters and journalists out and about, searching for their story - which just happened to be her. 'Should I come out and tell Ms. Wayne the truth?' Maybe the editor-in-chief of Denver's largest paper could help stop this before it got any more out-of-hand. But no. Sarah just couldn't tell her friend and employer that it was, in fact, herself in the pictures. This was a secret that she needed to keep to herself for now. Probably forever. "Yes, Lana. I understand. I'm sure we'll all do our best to find out about this woman." She gave her good-byes to her editor and hung up the phone. She slowly walked the few steps back to her seat at the table, slumping down. She looked at her granola and milk; suddenly, Sarah didn't feel the least bit hungry any longer. What had she been thinking of yesterday? She should have just let the police handle the situation, and not gotten herself involved. She wouldn't have transformed, and no one would be the wiser. But now an ever-growing amount of the residents of Denver and its suburbs were reading the various newspapers, and watching the TV, and listening to the morning radio shows. They were all finding out about the emerald giantess who had performed a selfless act by saving that little baby. She didn't regret saving him - that wasn't waht was bother her so much. In fact, that was the one redeeming factor of this whole episode. What was disturbing Sarah was the reason behind her act. Thinking back, she knew that she had been feeling guilty about things she either had or had not done in her past. Her feeling of abandonment of Elizabeth; her helplessness when Donald had died; her partial rejection of her alien heritage. They had all combined to prod her into action which may have been a bit premature. Why had she needed to transform at all? She realized with a cold feeling in the pit of her stomach that she had done what she did out of guilt. Not at all the supposed feelings of "heroism" and "altruism" that the author of the article had given her green-hued self. Sarah then came to a conclusion that, unconsciously, she had wanted to avoid considering. 'I've been away too long....', she thought. She needed help....and there was only one person who might be able to assist her with this newfound internal crisis. 'If he's still there....' After all, it had been more than six years since she'd been in Wyoming. Lots of things might have changed - - the ship might not even be active anymore. But if there was a chance that Xris was operational, it was worth the plane ticket and hotel expenses. Sarah picked up her telephone again and dialed The Post's travle agent. A horrific wind was blowing as Sarah pulled her rented Chevrolet Malibu up to the point where, all those years ago (it almost seemed like another lifetime), she had fallen from the sky in an escape pod. That would make for a good yarn to tell her friends at work - or better yet, an idea for a comic book. Except that it had really happened. For all that she looked, acted, and felt human.... For all of that, Sarah Carter didn't actually exist. She was Khara from Gammon. She felt that this duality was at the heart of her problem. She knew who she really was, and yet, she was just as much Sarah as Khara. She couldn't make the two come together and co-exist, though she had tried. 'God, this is driving me crazy! I hope Xris is still here....' Sure enough, as she stepped out of the car, Sarah spotted the large, telltale lump of dirt and metal. The pod was still here; whether it still worked or not was a totally different matter. She walked up to the pod, arm raised to help shield her face from the small dirt and debris the wild wind was blowing up. She pressed the correct spot on the pod's hull. She had to admit she was a little surprised when the door quietly hummed open. It would have almost seemed more proper if nothing had happened at all. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Sarah stepped into the dark chamber. 'Well, at least I'm out of that blasted wind.', she thought. With a suddenness that made her jump, the lights came on. Looking around, Sarah saw, with a bit of melancholy, that it was the same as she had left it - the day that Donald had died. That had been the last time she had visited this metallic cocoon, but everythigng was still there, and all of it appeared operational. Now, if only - - "Hello, Khara. It's been a while, hasn't it?" She smiled in relief at hearing that deep, almost melodic voice. So this trip wasn't a waste after all. "Yes. Yes, it certainly has, Xris. How have you been?" A week ago, it would have seemed silly for her to be talking to a computer like another person. But it seemed like, as soon as she had stepped into the pod, it was like she was in antother world...another time. Beides, he sounded so life-like! She knew that this computer system had only been programmed with her brother's brain patterns. Still, if felt like she was talking to him. Like she was talking with family. The sadness returned, and she sighed with its weight. "I've been on standby since you departed 3.05 cycles ago. I know of the death of your surrogate father. I'm very sorry, Khara. How is Elizabeth doing? My monitoring circuits have been inactive." A bit of depression entered her heart. "She's dead, too, Xris." "Again, my most sincere apologies. Is there anything I can do to help you?" She smiled. "Thanks, Xris. Yes, there is something you can do for me, but it depends on your answer to my next question. Are you hardwired into this escape pod?" She held her breath for his answer. "No. Although my systems are enhanced by the pod's various electronics, my primary computer module is detachable. The power source is a form of crystal that is not found on Sol-3, and is sufficient for at least another 200 cycles of operation. May I ask why, Khara?" "I need your help, Xris. But I only have another day of vacation before I return to work. I want to bring you back home with me. I have a problem that I think only you can help me with." "Yes, of course. I want to help you any way I can. Here, let me instruct you on how to disconnect my main circuits from the pod." Two hours later, Sarah departed from the wreckage of the escape pod. In the back seat of the Malibu, enclosed in an extra vinyl bag she had brought with her, was the small (and surprisingly light) black cube ob Xris' primary computer module. She looked in the car's rear-view mirror, waiting for something to happen. Five seconds later, it did. Suddenly, the pod seemed to collapse in on itself and, with a flash of silent light, it disappeared. Only the falling dirt that had, nanoseconds before, sheathed the small spacecraft remained, creating a much smaller lump of dirt in its place. This had been Xris' doing. He had set the pod's self-destruct mechanism, and now, after that flash of disintegrating light, there was nothing left. Only his module remained. She put the car into gear and pulled away from the scene. "I hope you go through airport security....", she told the glistening cube. To be continued Terry |
| Story: A New Life - Chapter 9 (Terry) (18-Apr-2000 22:42:53) |
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