The Return

Something stirred in the mist. My eyes strained to make out its form. There, like an aura from a dream, she emerged. Her long golden hair shimmered in the eerie light as she strode toward me. Her frail frame appeared similar to the reeds she walked amongst. Her brown eyes intent and focused, she stood before me.

“Hello,” I said not sure of what to say.

She stared at me.

“I… I don’t want to intrude, but my ship…” I pointed back from where I’d come. I hope she can understand what I’m saying, and more important the metal I need to repair my ship.

“I know who you are,” she stated. Her voice quivered, but in perfect English.

“English? You know English? But how could… There’s no need to be afraid.”

“I was chosen to come. To be your servant.”

“Servant?” I blinked hard a few times, “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“It is our sacrifice to you, the Destroyer of worlds.”

“Destroyer of….” I rubbed my stubbled beard.

She knelt before me on both knees and bowed her head.

I reached out my hand and touched the top of her head. “I’m not…” An energy pulsed through me from her. A name pushed into my conscientiousness ‘Shayna’. I repeated it softly aloud.

“Yes?” she replied, “The elders told me you might know my name. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken.”

“It’s all right, Shayna. Arise. Let’s go.”

I could feel the energy still coursing through me. I knew her. This place seemed familiar now. I could almost lead her. She arose and walked into the mist. I followed, but I somehow knew the path. My thoughts spun with odd visions, but they all seemed to emanate from her.

We hiked up the worn stone trail. Symbols lined the walls, and I knew them. A blue fifth planet circled a ball of fire. A spacecraft lay in the middle of a thriving village. Atop it stood a humanoid and the villagers bowed before him.

We entered the village, full of straw thatched houses. A light emanated from above down the long volcanic shaft. The bright light illuminated a gigantic old craft with NASA visible on the side. This looks just like the path symbols.

Eyes peered from behind dark windows. The quaint simple streets were empty, aside from two guards at the doors of a larger building that had the spacecraft symbol etched high on the A frame.

“Stop,” I whispered to Shayna.

She halted and turned to kneel before me.

“No. That’s not necessary. Why are these people so afraid of me?”

“You are the new Jim, the ancient destroyer of worlds. He said he would return, and now you have. Your powers are written in the books of Jim.

“The books of Jim?” What kind of …

“Yes. Would you like to see them? I can take them to you.”

“Does everyone here speak English then?”

“Yes. The Jim taught us. We were forbidden to speak our tongue before him. Many speak both, but English is what we speak now.”

Who is this Jim? What is going on? I’m no one to be afraid of. Just an explorer whose ship’s engines developed a problem with its I9 Crystal. I just had to land here temporarily.

“Sure. Lead me to the books.” Maybe it has some answers.

“The book of DJ is forbidden to open. We can only open the three books. The Jim said to give it to the next Jim.”

Shayna walked to a large ornate building. I scanned the nearest houses and saw a set of deep-set eyes staring at me. When my gaze fell upon theirs the face retreated into the darkness. I could hear Shayna’s thoughts. Make the Jim happy. Don’t upset him. The Jim can do all and he knows all. Please don’t hurt me.

“Shayna I won’t hurt you.”

She paused and looked back over her shoulder. “Your powers truly are remarkable. Please, do not hold my thoughts against me. I beg of you.” She dropped and grabbed my ankles and began to weep. Her thin frame shook.

“Shayna. Get up. While I can hear your thoughts, somehow... I won’t hold them against you. Please, show me the books.”

“Yes, my Hulant.”

“Hulant?”

“I am sorry. It translates to ruler. Hulant is the ancient tongue. It was the only name we were to call the Jim. I will call you whatever you wish if that displeases you.”

“Stop it!”

Please don’t be angry with me. I know I can please you for my people.

“I’m not angry. Just stop … worshipping me. I am not…”

“Please. No one could know my thoughts but Hulant Jim.”

My eyes shifted up to the ceiling. Fine. I’ll play along for now until I figure out what’s going on. “Just show me the books.”

Shayna approached a glass dome with four books enclosed. Shayna touched both her shoulders and lifted her hand high in the air. Her eyes rolled back in her head. What once was a fist spread out until all her fingertips were at maximum distance. Slowly her hand fell upon the glass dome and slid down to a latch on the side. A click resonated in the silence and her eyes rolled back into their natural position.

Quite the little ceremony.

I rested my hand on Shayna’s shoulder and felt the same energy tingle in my fingers. Shayna’s thoughts became so much clearer – Forgive me, Jim. Please do not punish me for opening the sacred dome. Death will be too good for me now.

“I won’t pun…. Nevermind.” How am I reading her thoughts? This is crazy. I wonder if this Jim had the same experience? Imagine being able to read their thoughts. They’d think you were a god. And this guy took advantage of them. Anger welled within me.

The first book, set apart from the others, had a clear ‘DJ’ imprinted on it. The others were numbered 1 to 3 with gold lettering. The ‘DJ’ was clearly not of this world while the others seemed to be fashion from paper possibly from the reeds at the entrance of the village. The DJ book was encased in clear plastic with a lock.

“Do you have the key to the DJ book?” Something tells me that that book has the answers I seek.

Oh, my Hulant. He will surely kill me if I answer no. Please be merciful.

“No, my Hulant. The key always remained with the Jim.” She swallowed hard and knelt before me.

“Leave me alone with these books.” I waved my hand toward the door. “Stay outside until I call you back in.”

Shayna scurried out the door and the soft thump of the door against the frame filled the room. The smell of dirt and dried sticks pushed into my nostrils. The darkened room had four holes which let light filter in.

I reached out and took book number one. The book was surprisingly light. I flipped open to the first page and read. Rules of how to treat each other, fairness in trading, no stealing, punishments against killing. All seemed well thought out and just. I perused the second book. More rules of dealing with other tribes, councils set up, and judges. Again the rules seemed fair. The third book, however, took a stranger turn. More rules, but not about the village society, but about ‘The Jim’. How his food was to be prepared. How he was to be greeted. The more I read, the more lavish and egocentric the writings became. The last rules were all about worshipping him and what was acceptable, and more importantly what was not. Then the last chapter and its title – The Jim and his final decisions of life and death. The last line of the tomb being the most chilling: “All of The Jim’s decisions are to be carried out absolutely and are to be done without question under penalty of death. The Jim knows all and should never be questioned.”

A chill shot through me. “What happened to this man?” I mumbled, “I have to find a way to get to that last book. If I don’t miss my guess, that’s a daily journal. No wonder he didn’t want the villagers to see it.”

I attempted to pry the glass open but the thick plastic and strong lock thwarted me. Winded, I rested cross-legged on the dirt floor. Damn him for taking advantage of these people.

A thought passed through me, ‘The Jim’ I chuckled. What will they call me? ‘The Harris’? Maybe ‘The McElroy’? I wonder if he made that up or did they? It must have been difficult to teach them English though.

“Shayna,” I called.

The door opened wide, and Shayna and two others marched into the room. They all knelt before me.

“Who are they?”

“They are your loyal servants, my Hulant. This is Nimbus and Criner. Their eyes downcast toward my feet. I approached the one she called Criner. I tapped his head and a surge rushed through my frame.

“Arise…” My muscles tightened and my breathe became shallow. I felt dizzy for a moment. I fell to the floor and my body quivered and shook. What’s happening? I feel… I feel… strong and …. I want to… crush… no…. HURT someone.

My mind raced with images of grabbing Criner by the throat and choking him. What is this? Why am I doing this? Before I could resist further, my hands were around him, and I lifted him high in the air, and threw him through the grass-mud wall. He struggled with all his might, but that just made my annoyance swell.

I strode over to him again and stood over his battered body. Bright red blood flowed down his cheek. He shook off the attack and his eyes grew wide with fear. I could hear him thinking. What did I do to anger The Jim? He scrambled to his knees and grabbed my feet. The urge to crush his skull with my bare hands intensified almost beyond what I could bear. I lashed out and struck a support post, snapping it in half. The roof sagged, but held. My God. My strength is at least fifty times what it was.

Fear welled up inside me. What have I done? I just touched him and that energy shot through me. It consumed me and I …

“Forgive me, my Hulant. I did not mean to anger you. We should not have accompanied Shayna.”

“It’s all right. I … I… You are forgiven, my son.” The words didn’t seem to be my own, like someone else was speaking them.

I can’t touch any of these people. Humans seem to be some kind of conduit to awaken powers perhaps in our DNA that… Oh, my. If word got out on Earth about them… I covered my mouth with my hand and dwelled on the thought. They would become slaves.

Shayna ran toward me and knelt. “Oh, please forgive me. They meant no harm. Please punish me, Hulant. Not them.”

“We must find the key, and we must shield you from other worlds.”

“Exactly as The Jim of old did for us. He destroyed others who came.”

Villagers all bowing down before me gathered in the square before the only brick building.

“No. That’s not necessary. I am not ‘The Jim’.”

“Only he could do these things. You are ‘The Jim’,” Shayna replied.

“No. My name is Harris McElroy. I come from…”

“Whatever you wish to be called. ‘The Jim’ told us you might want to be re-titled. Hulant Harr…”

“You have to understand. These powers. I didn’t mean to hurt…”

“We understand,” Criner stated, “The burdens of our protection is yours. We will follow your command, Hulant.”

How do I get through to them? That book might do it, but I don’t have the key. The strength ripples through me, and I feel so aggressive. Maybe it wasn’t Jim’s fault. He did try to protect them.

A tall man, thin and frail like the other villagers approached. My hand clenched in a fist and images flashed through my head of his broken body on the ground. I closed my eyes to calm myself.

“Hulant, your quarters are just as you left them. My father served ‘The Jim’ faithfully, and now his son will do the same. Would you like to go there?” He knelt on one knee and bowed his head.

“Sure.” I’ve got to get this rage under control. “Lead me there.”

The man clapped his hands twice and five men lined up on each side of us, and we tread through the streets to the largest house in the town. A three story dwelling built of a mixture of wood and stone stood before us. ‘The Jim’s’ house no doubt.

The man opened the door and extended his arm for me to enter. I strolled through the large doorway and walked into a large living room with incredible comforts – a couch, several large stuffed chairs, two fireplaces, and a hand-crafted hammock.

“Should you need anything, my Hulant Harris…”

“Yes, I’ll call.”

“As you wish…” He closed the door.

“None of this makes any sense,” I said. A slight echo greeted my disbelief. “This house is incredible given the state of the rest of the village. It must have taken years to assemble this. Stone from miles away. No way this is volcanic. Wood too. I saw forests, but miles from here. Amazing. No wonder these people worshipped ‘The Jim’. These powers even amaze me.”

I lay in the Hammock and the weariness of walking so far fell upon me and I closed my eyes to fitful dreams.

…………………

My eyes fluttered open. The early morning light filtered through three large skylights in the ceiling. I push myself from the hammock and breathed in. An aroma filled my nostrils and smelled like nothing else I’d ever sniffed. My paltry description of a mixture of fresh baked bread, cookies, and cotton candy left me wanting for more words.

“Hulant Harris?”

“Oh. You startled me, Shayna.”

“Would you like to eat now?”

I stared at her lovely form. Her hair still glimmered like the reeds. She was breathtaking.

“Yes.” Wait. I can’t seem to read her thoughts.

“We made your favorite dish. Mushlin Biscuits.”

“Is that what that wonderful smell is?”

“Yes, my Hulant.”

I reached out and touched her head and the energy coursed through me. Her thoughts raced through me.

Please the Hulant, Shayna. Please the Hulant. I smiled. The return of that power felt wonderful. I flexed my hands, but the hulk-like strength was not in them. I wonder where Criner might be? No. That one scared me. But it felt so…

“This way Hulant. The banquet hall is ready.”

I followed Shayna and read a few more of her thoughts. Her father was the chief. Her brother was the Nimbus fellow.

“After breakfast I’d like to read the book of DJ.”

Shayna paused in front of me. The book of DJ is forbidden. But why am I afraid. This is ‘The Jim’. He is allowed. She raised her fists high and slowly unclenched them, similar to her ritual from before. We traversed through a long hall and into a spacious banquet hall. Forty men with shields and spears lined each wall; Their stares vacant and straight forward.

Five long tables spanned the entire length of the room with a much smaller table adorning the farthest wall. The thoughts of the many people began seeping into my mind -- most full of fear or reverence.

‘The Jim is back.’
‘Hail the Jim.’
‘The Hulant has returned. I must remember to address him as Hulant Harris.’
‘He brings the amazing powers back to us.’
‘Please the Hulant Harris. He knows all. He sees all.’

As I approached the front table (perpendicular to the others) I noticed a larger, stout man in full painted embellishment. Shayna’s thought told me all I needed to know. Father.

“Welcome, Hulant. Your food is prepared and is ready. We hope you enjoy it.” His voice boomed in the large hall.

You will treat my people well I hope. His eyes stared at me like arrows through flesh. Or you will feel my wrath.

I nodded and half-smiled. “I will treat them well.”

The chief’s face flushed with astonishment. Grandfather was right! He does read our thoughts!

“Yes, I do.” The chief looked away. I heard him think again, but the language was strange and choppy. It reminded me of native American tongues on Earth. I shrugged, but had this uneasy feeling about the final words I heard in my mind – meleheari deft melago.

Two servers ushered me to an ornate seat. Before it a simple place setting of a fork and spoon straddling a ceramic plate with a glass set above. All the other villagers, including the chief, had crude bowls with matching cup. I stared at the setting as the servers portioned out the delicious smelling entrée which appeared to be some kind of grilled fish-like creature.

The whole assembly paused and stared at me. I heard several thoughts around me.
I hope he likes it. Does he know how to use those things?
When will he start so we can eat?
I am hungry and if he doesn’t like this … Maybe he prefers a bowl and cup?
Please, Hulant. Please like it.

I grabbed the fork, scooped up a few morsels, and placed it in my mouth. The savory spices and tender meat complimented each other well. I took a drink of bitter water and smiled. I nodded my approval. A cheer arose and the cacophony of bowls clattering on the table, water being poured, and chewing mixed.

The meal went well. The villagers relaxed and the fear prevalent before, diminished. Several thoughts spoke of the Chickasee people, whom I inferred were this people’s enemy. An older lady approached my table as I reclined.

“Hulant,” she said and bowed low.

“Please… I’m not…” I sighed. I’m wasting my time. They’re not going to believe I’m not the Hulant. I paused and waited. Her face tilted toward mine. “What do you wish?”

“My child was lost in the Great Battle. He was one of only five warriors we lost with The Jim. Could you bring him back to me?”

“I’m sorry. I do not have that power.”

She nodded in reverence with her eyes downcast. I thought the Hulant could do all…

“No one has the power over death,” I added. “What was your son’s name?”

“Matto.”

“I see your loss is great.” I slid my hand across the table and she placed hers in mine. The same energy coursed through me. Damn. I keep forgetting about touching anyone! My throat became dry. I grabbed the glass and downed the rest of my water. My head became light as my breathing became difficult. I clutched my neck. Several villagers noticed and brows furrowed in concern.

I suddenly felt light-headed. I fumbled out a few slurred words as I waved my hand. I still didn't understand these powers, but one thing I did know -- I was drunk. I guess not every touch will be a great power...

The next thing I remember is awakening in my bed. Shayna stroked my hair and I looked deeply into her bluish-yellow eyes.

"Hulant, we were worried."

"No need. I feel fine except for a bit of headache."

I poured a glass of water and drank. The bitter taste stayed on my tongue. I noticed the DJ book lay on a stand next to me. A key lay next to it.

"Ah. The book of DJ. Thank you Shayna."

My father had the key. "As you wish, Hulant Harris."

"Please leave me. I wish to read this alone."

Shayna arose and bowed and stepped softly out the door. Criner and Nimbus stood guard outside.

I turned the key in the lock and the clasp yielded. I opened to the first page. 'Daily Journal of James Metz'.

I began to read. Jim landed on this planet 37 years prior. He was an explorer and scientist. At first he was fascinated at the powers he garnered. Living with them for several years he'd completed several tests. Just as I suspected the villagers had some kind of power aura that stimulated a piece of our DNA. He never could isolate what power would be gained from any one villager. Just as important, he realized that if this news made it back to Earth these people would be slaves. The more the writings went on, the more the people thought of him as a god. He knew he had to stay to protect them. No other course of action made sense to him.

I read far into the evening pausing only to eat twice. Shayna attended me both times. The Great Battle with the Chickasee was described in detail. Only five warriors lost their lives while the other tribe was decimated mostly by lightning bolts from Jim's fingertips. He described the overwhelming pleasure of it all. The hulk-like strength combined with that.... My mind pushed back to that feeling. My fist clenched at the thought. Yes.