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  “Shala squeezed her hand. “That is what friends are for,” she said. “And we are much more than friends, young woman. You are family!” she said in mock consternation.

  “Well, you know how much I appreciate it all,” Jo said.

  “I know. But save thanks for after we have had the time to spoil the girl like we have spoiled little Timothy,” Shala said with a grin.

  Just then, the doctor came out of the door in front of then and smiled. “Good! I see you followed my instructions and got out of that bed!” he exclaimed. “A doctor needs to know that his patients will follow their instructions,” he grinned.

  “Does that mean I can go home today?” Jo asked.

  The doctor held up his pad a minute. “Not today I am afraid,” he said in a more serious tone. “You will be fine, but I am looking at some of little Mary’s levels and I want to keep her here overnight. That means you stay too, to feed her,” he said.

  Jo looked a little disappointed. “That means I’ll miss Mike’s concert,” she said.

  The doctor placed a hand on her shoulder. “Oh, I think you can watch from the fifth floor balcony. Should be a pretty good seat. But I’d really rather you rest with us until you and Mary can leave tomorrow morning,” he said gently.

  “Yes,” Shala said with a determined look. “Do what doctor said and rest. You work hard enough despite the baby. You should take a holiday,” she said.

  Jo smiled at them. “Two against one, huh?” she said. “I guess I can’t fight both of you,” she said as she turned and began slowly making her way back to her room.

  The storms had been fierce. Dark clouds had begun appearing after noon and had gotten darker by the minute. By 1 p.m., the winds had begun to howl through the valleys between the steep hills causing the trees to sway and swing violently. Several trees could not stand up to the onslaught. With a sudden blow there were sharp cracks, almost like rifle shots as the strong fibers of the trunks and limbs gave way and the big trees came down. But the wind was the least of the worries. The rains came down in torrents. Like water coming down a waterfall, the rain pummeled the earth, rapidly filling the streams to overflowing. Within an hour the rivers were already overflowing their boundaries, much due to the fact that it had already rained for ten days without much let up. Where the rain fell on unprotected ground, it began cutting its inevitable path through the soil to reach the lowest point. The already sodden ground couldn’t hold any more and like a slow moving wave, whole hillsides began to slide. The mud followed the rest of the water to the river. Within two hours they were little more than seas of brown, dirty water carrying along anything that had gotten caught in its path.

  Olan Tacha had watched all this from his modest house on a hill overlooking his farm. He had already brought the cattle in and secured the machinery. He had been smart to place his barn on the adjacent hill. The rain had already damaged his crops and he would be lucky to break even this year. He watched from his porch as the water level rose in the valley toward his farm. He was not afraid of losing the house or the barn. No amount of rain would get the water that high. But the higher the water, the harder he would have to work to clean up the damage and get back to farming. Even his cattle would have to be fed instead of grazing. He watched the lightning strike something on a nearby hill and a tree topple over and roll down the slope.

  Then, almost as quickly as the storm had come, it began to die away before his eyes. The rain eased and the winds subsided. Within a quarter of an hour patches of blue sky began to appear. Standing on the porch, he could almost see the water start to recede in the river below.

  Olan smiled inwardly. It had not been as bad as he had feared. If it would hold off for a day or so, and dry things out a bit, there might be hope after all. After telling his wife he was going out to look at the damage, he saddled his horse and rode out to inspect his fields.

  Farming in this country was not that easy. Olan had cultivated the land in the valleys and on up the banks until his tractor or horses could not keep their footing. There were twelve valleys in all. As he worked his way to each of them he could see that the plants were beaten down, but with luck, would straighten back to their normal appearance. The grain crop would be the hardest hit. It was within three weeks of harvest and the rains might have ruined them. Luckily, the waters from the river had not gotten into the field, so there was some hope.

  As he rounded the last hill, he was in for a surprise. At the same place he had seen the lightning strike the tree, he saw that the entire side of the hill had collapsed and run down into his vegetable field. Nearly a quarter of the field was under a foot of mud. He breathed out a slow sigh and shook his head. This would mean fewer vegetables for canning and saving for the winter months.

  He looked over at the fallen tree. It lay in a heap in the middle of the field where it had rolled to a stop. It was a good thing he had purchased that new chain saw, he thought. Olan’s eyes followed the trail the tree had left from its original spot. As he looked at the side of the hill he noticed something different. About half way up the hill there was some sort of outcropping and a flat area that looked different from the surrounding soil. It was bright and seemed to be shining.

  Curiosity was one of Olan’s weaknesses, so he dismounted his horse and began making his way up the mud sloped hill. Twice he slipped and fell, sliding half way back down the hill each time. But this did nothing but spur the man onward. After thirty minutes of hard climbing he was facing the flat surface he had seen from below.

  The place measured the length of his arm wide and extended from under the mud to the outcropping above him. Olan worked his way a little higher and examined the outcropping itself. It seemed strange with what looked like a smooth surface above that came down to a sharp edge that extended back into the side of the hill. Olan took his hand and rubbed the surface. As the mud worked away the surface became almost white in color and very smooth - not like any rock or surface he had ever seen. Using his fists, he gave it a few blows, but it did not give, and it seemed to have a more hollow sound to it.

  Unable to decide what it was, Olan descended back to the flat surface. Again he used his hands to wipe away the mud caked on it. To his surprise, his fingers revealed what appeared to be a pane of glass. The more he rubbed, the more glass he revealed until the entire flat surface was smooth before him. At this point, Olan trotted back down the hill to his horse and came back with his water jug. The long hard trek up the hill was forgotten at the prospect of seeing what was on the other side of that window, if anything. By the time he came back to the window he was breathing heavily and sweating through all of his clothing. After catching his breath, he opened the jug and poured some water over the window, cleaning the last of the film from its smooth surface. Using nearly half the water he had, he worked the clean area wider and wider until he could clearly see through it. Peering through the glass he drew a quick breath. He was looking into what appeared to be a bedroom.

  The soldiers milled around the black painted shuttles looking uneasy. They had been training for this mission for some time, but all knew that if they failed, the life they had known would be forever changed, and in most cases, shortened. Maintenance crews were performing last minute checks and fueling for each small ship in preparation. Pilots were watching them closely now, making their own checks to make sure that the small ships were ready to go. The entire enormous hangar facility was busy with activity. There were nearly 100 shuttlecraft inside the facility. Rarely did they ever leave except for training flights for their crews and occasional missions for their general. Even today only 10 of the craft were being readied for flight. The rest were going through maintenance cycles. But everyone in the hangar was talking about those 10. With the exception of those involved, no one knew what was up, but the rumors ranged from another training mission to an attack on one of the capitals. Until they had come to this place, none of these men had ever seen machines that could fly, much less the facilities and weapons they were using.r />
  With a shout of commands all work ceased and the soldiers fell in beside their craft. The entire hangar grew silent as the General and Colonel Kenta entered stiffly. Officers in front of each shuttle crew saluted in turn as they walked down the line. Each salute was returned briskly while the general’s eyes pierced into each man. The colonel, in turn, was examining each craft to make sure nothing was amiss. As they reached the end of the line, they turned and looked at each other.

  “They are ready, my general,” Kenta said with a smile.

  “I believe you are correct, my friend,” the general replied. “Let us send them off with one final word,” he said.

  The colonel nodded and barked the order, “Officers to the front!”

  Quickly, the officers leading each shuttle marched precisely down the line and stood rigidly before their general, who was looking at them with little more than a scowl. When the last man arrived, the general spoke.

  “Officers! Today our long days of planning and training come to an end. With this mission, we begin our quest to build an empire. It may not seem very dramatic, but I assure you, each step from here on builds on the other, and will end with all of us leading a great power,” he said with emphasis. As he spoke, he looked straight into the eyes of the men gathered there and he could see the enthusiasm building within them. Then his face softened a bit as he continued.

  “Some of you have been with me for a long time. We have worked very hard to get where we are today,” he said, noticing some beginning to smile at the thought. Several of these men had been very loyal through the years and deserved a place in this glory. “That is why it is vitally important that each of you remember his part in this and carry it out to the letter!” he continued. “One mistake could spell disaster, so do your jobs well. Any man, shirking his duty does not deserve to be a part of our glorious empire,” he warned. “So you must work together, each watching the other to see that the jobs are carried out completely. Never let it be said that we failed in our mission. Never let it be said that we ever had a single flaw. Together, we are building an empire which this world must respect and fear. We are setting the standard for an entire future! You all know what is expected. I know you will carry it out to perfection,” he said with a slight smile. “Now go do your duty,” he said finally, saluting them.

  The officers before him saluted smartly and the general could see the pride on their faces as they turned and went back to their shuttles. With crisp orders, the soldiers turned and entered each shuttle in a single file. The last man in was the pilot, closing the door behind him. Within a moment, the flashing navigation and warning lights came on and a deep rumble issued from each craft. With a loud clang, the locks on the giant doors at the front of the hangar disengaged and the heavy steel doors began moving back on their rollers, opening into the bright late afternoon sunlight. When the doors finally locked open, one by one, the shuttles lifted from their pads and made their way through the doors and on the ramp beside the hangar. As if on signal, they lifted into the sky and began making their way north.

  The general watched each of the ships leave the area and continued watching until they could no longer see them. Then the two men turned and went back into the hangar as the mighty doors closed behind them.

  Olan returned late in the afternoon with his eldest son, Jena. At first Jena could not believe the story his father told and for a few minutes thought he was finally slipping into senility. But being a faithful son, he agreed to come back with his father to see for himself.

  The tractor they rode had been purchased years before and was scarred and dented from a life of hard work. But it effortlessly pulled the old wagon along behind it toward the hill. Even the muddy remains of the rains had not hindered it, with its heavy load. In the back of the wagon was a 500 liter tank of water with a long hose, a pump, and a number of tools to use if needed. The old wheels dug deeply into the mud as it rolled along, but the steady drone of the old tractor engine never slackened as it threw its considerable power to the wheels.

  As they rounded the bottom of the hill, Jena looked at where his father was pointing and quickly saw that his father’s suspicions were right. There was something strange about the way the hill was shaped, and there was definitely something there. All illusions aside, they parked the tractor and wagon as far up the slope as they dared. Olan unreeled the hose and wrapped a starting cord around the top of the engine. After only two good pulls the pump engine popped to life and he watched as the hose seemed to stiffen and get longer. Motioning to Jena, they then took a shovel and a long handled brush and the hose up the rest of the way on the hill to the strange window.

  The mud had dried all around the window and all that were left were Olan’s footprints where he had stood before. Olan opened the valve on the hose and a steady stream of water shot out of the narrow nozzle onto the window. Jena immediately began scrubbing the mud away with the brush until, minutes later; it was gleaming in the fading sunlight. Noticing the track along the sill where the window was seated, Olan used the water to clear all of the mud out of it from the window to the sill.

  Jena peered through the window as his father did and could clearly see the room with two beds, some other furniture and other doors. Then he noticed something that sent a chill up his back and made him almost cry out. Someone was laying on one of the beds in the far corner of the room.

  After making sure there was nothing to prohibit the window from sliding all the way back, Olan and Jena placed their hands on the glass and began to press the window along the track. It gave an inch, then two. Suddenly it slid aside rapidly till it hit the end of the windowsill.

  Both men were amazed at what greeted them. The air inside the room was clean and cool. It seemed to rush out toward them as they stared inside. After two calls into the structure with no answer, Olan looked at his son and then eased one leg inside. To his surprise, there was a sturdy chair placed beside the window, and his foot came to rest on the wooden seat. Easing further in, he listened for any additional sounds. All was quiet, but there was something. Something faint from deep within the house was heard. It was nothing Olan or Jena was accustomed to. Sensing no danger, Olan slid further into the room until he was standing inside beside one of the beds. He stood quietly until Jena joined him.

  “What do you think,” Jena asked with an apprehensive look.

  “This is a very fine home,” Olan said carefully. “It makes no sense to be buried, and I have never known anyone else to live out here.”

  “What about that?” Jena asked, pointing to the lump in the far bed.

  Olan looked at the figure under the covers. In his mind, he already knew what it probably was. But death had no apprehensions in Olan. He walked up to the lump and slowly pulled back the covers.

  The mummified remains of the young girl had stained the cloth covering her, but the skin had dried and shrunk to fit the bones of her small body. She looked almost asleep with one hand under her cheek and the other lying across her chest. She was lying on her side in the bed. Her light blond hair flowed from the top of her head along her shoulders and down onto the pillow. As Olan looked upon her, he felt sorry for the little girl. How had she died? What had happened for her to be buried in this house, he wondered. He eased the cover back over her head.

  “She was pretty,” said Jena beside him - his voice breaking Olan out of his thoughts.

  “That she was,” Olan agreed. Then he turned and looked at Jena. “Let’s see what else we can find that may hold the answers,” he said as he turned and walked to one of the two doors in the room.

  Olan opened on door into a closet of neatly arranged clothes and other objects, which obviously belonged to the girl. The clothes were brightly colored and clean. The feel was of some strange fabric Olan had never felt before. Closing the door, he then turned to the other. It opened easily into a long, narrow hallway. The sounds he had heard before were louder here, and seemed to be coming from some vent in the side of the wall. Suddenly the s
ound stopped. The quiet was penetrating.

  As they peered into the darkness, what little light from the room quickly dimmed, but the two men saw doors along the hallway, and in the center were steps leading downward. Reaching into his pocket, Olan pulled out his old flashlight and turned on the beam. Shining the beam along the hall revealed more bedrooms, furniture clean and well ordered, the beds perfectly made and sitting as if waiting for their owners to return at any moment and climb into them. One was a room with furnishings that indicated a bathroom with gleaming fixtures above the porcelain like tub and sink. Jena walked to the sink and, as most young men would do, reached over to turn on the handle of what appeared to be a faucet. To their surprise, water flowed freely from the tap into the sink and down a drain.

  Olan looked at Jena with some surprise. Their family had lived on this farm for over 60 years and they had never seen any indication of neighbors, especially with a home like this. Olan scratched at the stubble of the day’s growth on his chin. It wouldn’t be the last mystery he would ever see, he thought. Taking Jena by the arm he led him back into the hall without a word. Shining the light back and forth, he headed for the stairs leading down.

  They took the steps one at a time making their way slowly into a larger room at the bottom. Almost directly in front of the stairs was a large door with no window. Openings on the side walls led to additional rooms. Turning to the right, Olan and Jena passed a large table set with a linen cloth. The flowers or whatever plant life had been in a vase in the center of the table were withered and little more than twigs. There appeared to be windows on one wall, covered with heavy drapes. Beyond the table was another door. Jena went around the table and slid the door open. Instinctively he reached beside the door to feel for the light switch. He was surprised to feel a plate where he would expect a switch to be. The surprise turned to an audible gasp when, as his fingers pressed the switch, the lighting came on to reveal a shining and spotless kitchen of a type he had only seen in some of his futuristic books and magazines. Everywhere were gleaming appliances with what appeared to be push button controls. There was a sink, what looked like a kind of stove, ovens and even a large standing box that felt cold inside. He ran his hands along the surfaces and looked into the cabinets. There was no food to be seen. Inside the cabinets were some tools and equipment, but nothing to eat. Puzzled, Jena turned to look at his father, but found he was alone in the room. Taking another look around, he went back out the door and instinctively turned out the light.