A Land Too Far (working title)

Author's Note: Go easy, this story is in its rawest form, incomplete and needs editing. I appreciate any honest critique.



Kitt Humphrey stared up into the night's sky with wonder. He had come to lie out on the flat roof that covered the porch below, seeking relief from his sweltering bedroom. He was fortunate that his parents hadn't thought he would do anything so dangerous as to climb out his bedroom window. A lot they knew, Kitt didn't consider himself a baby anymore, but very capable of taking care of himself.

The ten year old boy, dressed in a Pokemon t-shirt with the cute Pikachu smiling brightly on the front and a pair of cut-off jeans he had outgrown in length, had quietly crawled out the window to go undetected by his parents. He could still hear their voices, murmuring below, mixed with those of Uncle Paul's and Aunt Theresa's. The adults got together every Friday night to play bridge, a game he couldn't understand and thought was plain dumb. Why couldn't they get into playing a card game like Pokemon?

Now, there was an exciting game! A game that required you to think quickly, not depending on a partner to help bail you out when faced against a Pokemon of considerable strength and abilities. You only had the Pokemon in your hands to team up to defeat a foe. A defeat that rewarded you with the capture of your opponent's card to add to your own deck.

However, now, the sweltering heat of the late June night pushed Kitt's mind into simpler ponderings. His sleepy blue eyes picked out the constellations he was familiar with from the velvety black sky. Imagining them, not as a series of stars making a connect-the-dots picture, but as figures, one may see on the pages of a book. Ursa Major as a big lumbering grizzly bear with the long tail he was soon to lose. Ursa Minor, a cub trailing after the former, in awe of its superior role model. Orion was beheld holding aloft the bloodied pelt of a lion recently slain, a long bejeweled sword tucked within his belt.

His mind wandered into a more child-like frame of thinking. What if, those weren't stars? Not glowing masses or dead asteroids reflecting the sun, but pinprick holes in a soft, blue-black blanket covering a brightly shining entity as it slept?

Kitt's eyes grew heavy with sleep. He brushed sweat dampened blonde hair from his forehead, feeling sticky and uncomfortable. Taking care to be as silent as he had when he ventured out onto the roof, he got to his bare feet, the shingles rough on his soles, returning to the window. He had started to lift a foot to the windowsill, when there came a loud rumbling. It had broken through the rhythmic chirring of crickets and the thrilling of tree frogs, rendering them silent.

Turning back around, one hand remaining on the sill, he peered curiously out into the night in the direction of the thunderous sound. A sudden gust of wind blew in his face, lifting his damp hair from his brow and causing him to squint against it. His t-shirt rippled around his thin chest, gooseflesh rising up on his arms and legs with the sudden chill.

The young maple tree, which grows in the front yard, bent towards the house on its sapling trunk, threateningly close to snapping. A crash, squeals of surprised women, the thumping of feet and the slams of windows closing, travel up from below. The lawn chairs cartwheel across the lawn to slam into the side of the house. The big umbrella is pulled away from the lawn table like one of those paper parasols his Mom gets with her cocktails and sent soaring into the sky to disappear over the house. The table tips over, rolling on its side to join the chairs against the house in a raucous crash.

Kitt stood there, mouth agape, transfixed with the scene unfolding before his wide-awake eyes from the ground level. He tears his eyes away to look up. In the distance, an ominous black bank of clouds, interlaced with thin veins of lightening, rolls towards the lone house.

The Humphreys had moved out to this isolated area shortly after Kitt's third birthday, away from the bustling city of Dallas, not wanting the boy to be influenced with the down side of city living. Now, Kitt thinks that may not have been a good idea, as he watches the malevolent mass fast approaching. It was laying waste to everything in its path. Trees were scattering like twigs, ground being churned up, leaving a rough-hewn path. It was heading for the power lines that linked the Dallas-Fort Worth area. What ever this thing was, it was going to be more devastating than any tornado that has ever struck these parts.

His heart racing in his chest, he almost falls back in through the window. An unbelievable sense of balance saves him from falling flat on his face on the wooden floor. He turns to close the window, the deep blue curtains furling around him. They wrap about his body, as if they were intentionally trying to keep him from closing the window. He puts all of his seventy-three pounds into pulling it down. It finally gives with a begrudging bang. The curtains tame to lie limply in place.

The boy sprints across the room, taking a short cut across his bed, bouncing off it to land within a foot of the door. He throws it open, heading for the stairs to the right of his room. His folks' bedroom was further down to the end of the hall. The door to their room standing open is suddenly slammed shut by another gust of wind coming from the open bedroom window. The sound makes him jump with the suddenness. Bounding down the stairs, taking them two at a time, he nearly runs into his mother who is coming up them to close her bedroom window.

"Kitt!" she cries out with surprise, holding her son out at arms length to inspect him with frightened eyes. They are the same light blue as her progeny's. "Go downstairs with your father. Help him gather all the candles and flashlights. Looks like we are in for one ripper of a storm!" she instructs him, gently guiding him around her as she resumes her ascent.

Kitt jumps down the five remaining stairs, grasping the end newel of the rail to make the turn around the stairs to head for the kitchen located in the back of the house. He casts a glance to the card table in the center of the front room. Bridge cards scattered across the top, one of the folding chairs lying turned over. His mother's favorite vase lays shattered on the floor. Apparently that had been the crash he had heard earlier. His father and uncle are outside, barring the storm shutters. His aunt is going through the house closing all the remaining open windows.

Once in the florescent drenched kitchen, he opens the door to the pantry, dropping down to his knees to pull several boxes of candles from the bottom shelf as well as two large boxes of wooden, strike anywhere matches. He takes this load to set on the white Formica topped kitchen table. He returned to the pantry to grab a snake like flashlight (one he loved to use since it had a flexible body that you could wrap around things), two Mag Lites and a boxy shaped Halogen lantern. Once more, he conveyed these items to the table, checking each in turn that the batteries worked. Just to be sure, he returned to the pantry closet to grab a box of assorted batteries. Smiling contently that he had done his job, he decided to do one more thing beyond that.

He hurried to the center of the kitchen, opening the door that lies beneath the stairs leading to up, staring down into the dark abyss of the cellar. Cool air wafted up to caress his warm cheek, followed by the smell of dampness. Kitt reaches out a hand to grope for the light switch on the left wall, flicking it up. There is a flicker of light below, as two banks of florescent lights wash away the darkness, illuminating the stairs and the floor below in white light. He snatches a large basket hanging from a nail in a wall brace, turning back to the table to load it with the candles, matches, flashlights and batteries. Lifting the filled basket off the table, he lugs them over to the cellar, descending the stairs carefully. When he reaches the bottom, he goes pass the silent washer and dryer, pass the dull stainless steel sink into the room converted to a rec room.

A wide screen TV is arranged along the length of the room, filling a third of the paneled wall. Next to it is a cabinet holding his father's pride, a top of the line stereo unit, complete with a karaoke machine, VCR and an electronic keyboard. Lying on the floor next to it is Kitt's pride. The Sega Dreamcast that he had received for his birthday last week. The empty case for his Pokemon game next to it. It was awesome to play it on the huge television screen. The Pokemon characters bigger than life, battling in their indomitable ways.

They were ignored for now. He has to carry the laden basket with both hands over to the coffee table set between the large couch and the wide screen. He lowers it to the table’s top, happy to set it down. He hears the adults’ voices from above, calling out for him. Kitt runs over to the foot of the stairs, cupping his hands around his mouth to help his voice carry above the din of noise that seems to surround the house.

"I'm down here in the cellar, Mom!" he shouts, hoping they hear him.

He is greeted by the forms of his mother, Aunt Theresa and Uncle Paul. His father bringing up the rear to close the cellar door behind them. They clomp down the stairs to join the boy, his mother placing a protective arm about him, leading him back to the couch. Together, Kitt, his mom, aunt and uncle plop down on the couch, huddling close. His father drops into the La-Z-Boy recliner angled off the end of the couch.

Robert Humphrey notices the basket sitting on the table, then looks proudly at his young son, "Good job, Kitt! We won't be without light if that storm front takes out the power," he says loudly over the din above them.

"Damnedest looking clouds I have ever seen," Uncle Paul says, to no one in particular, shaking his head in disbelief.

With unsuspected suddenness, there's a deep silence. The overhead florescent lights flicker, and then go out, plunging them all into darkness.

"Shit," whispers Robert, in the deathly hush. The last words anyone hears before the storm engulfs the house.

*********************

In the morning, rescuers are astonished with the wreckage of the home of Robert and Victoria Humphrey and their young son, Kitt. The two-storied house has been leveled to the ground. Fire Chief Volunteer, Matt Oxford, pulls debris from around the vicinity of the cellar door. Three other men in yellow slickers with the name Paxton Co. VFD on the back help him. A small opening appears from beneath the remains of the battered cellar door. Matt calls out to his lifelong friend, Robert.

Matt will not being hearing his friend's voice. After all is said and done, no bodies will be recovered. It was as if the storm had taken them away as mementos of its night of destruction.

*********************

Heavy eyelids tried to open while his ears tried to shut out the sound of the freight train that was passing by. Kitt drew up his hands to cover his ears to block the noise out, then coming to realize that the freight train was within his head. He brought his eyes open slowly only to find the world spinning dizzily about him. A wave of nausea overcame him. He rolled onto his side to retch, his thin body convulsing painfully with each spasm. His stomach was mercifully empty, curtailing the length of the retching to four bouts. A cold sweat beaded his pale face; his small frame trembled with the weakness that follows.

Kitt laid there panting through his mouth, bringing small ragged gulps of air into his lungs. As the nausea subsided, he wiped his mouth with the back of one hand, starting to feel better as he slowed his breathing down. He pushed himself up into a sitting position on shaky arms finally daring to open his eyes again. Things were a little gray around the edges, but, as he blinked his eyes, things grew clearer. He had his eyes directed at his feet, they were still bare. Around his right ankle, the basket he had brought to the cellar was hooked.

He drew his foot up, dragging the basket with it. One box of candles, a box of matches and the snake flashlight remained in it. He scanned the deep grass around him for the rest of the contents. Wait a sec...Grass? With mouth hanging slightly agape, the boy slowly brought his head up to observe his surroundings.

Sure enough, he was sitting in a glade surrounded by dense woods. It seemed familiar, like a place he had read about in a book. There was a small waterfall that feed a clear brook that was about twenty feet away from where he was sitting. Above the waterfalls was, by first glance, a large mound of grass. What it really was was a huge, moss-covered boulder with a large, spreading oak tree sprouting from it. An impossible place for anything to be growing, other than moss. Nevertheless, growing it was and thriving at that. In midst of all this, strange, brightly colored flowers grew in abundance. Upon closer study, one would notice them to be the same species of flower. Only, they were a multitude of colors, glorious reds, brilliant blues and sunny yellows. This place looked exactly like it was described in the book.

Kitt rubbed his eyes, and then looked again. It was still there. He pinched himself, letting out a yelp of pain only to find that he was wide-awake and it was still there! This was impossible! Kitt was becoming frightened with this storybook place. It was too much for his childish mind to comprehend. Had it been a dream, it might have delighted him.
He scrambled to his feet, hopping on one foot, the basket still hanging from his right ankle, nearly sending him sprawling. Once again, that acute sense of balance saved him as he freed himself from the shackling basket.

"MOM! DAD!" he called out on the verge of panic.

Kicking the basket aside, contents spilling out on the ground with the exception of the Snakelite that had wrapped itself around the handle, the terrified boy turned in a circle, arms outstretched for balance. His wide eyes proof of his fear.

"KITT!"

His mother's voice came clearly to him. He turned in the direction of her voice, seeing her, his father, aunt, and uncle, emerging from the forest on the other side of the brook. Three oddly dressed people walked unconcernedly behind them.

Victoria Humphrey ran into the brook, gasping with surprise at the chilling cold of the water. She slogged through water up over her knees. The bottom of her simple blue shift soaking up the water, becoming a darker shade of blue up to her thighs. The rest of his family followed suit, Uncle Paul holding onto Aunt Terry's elbow, assisting her crossing. Robert had caught up to his wife in time to help her up the bank. The three strangers remained on the opposite bank, seeming reluctant to enter the water.

Kitt wasted no time, running down to throw his arms about the waists of both parents, hiding his face and the tears of relief in the crook of his mother's arm. He felt ashamed that he was crying, but he had never been separated from his parents like this before. He had always known where they were at home. In this strange place, he was totally at a loss. Victoria was now shedding a few tears of her own.

*********************

When Victoria had regained consciousness in the woods, it was to the gentle coaxing of Robert. Like Kitt, she had the same symptoms of nausea and disorientation. Robert helped her through the rough going, rubbing her back as she purged herself of the coffee she had drunk during their bridge game. When she regained her senses, she asked where Kitt was.


Her husband looked at her with worry-clouded eyes, dropping his gaze to the ground to silently shake his head, shrugging his shoulders. Robert had to wrestle her back to the ground to keep her from going into a frenzied flight searching for their only child.

"Vicki, Honey! Calm down! We'll find him! I don't know where we are, but we can't just go dashing madly around to look for him. We don't know what dangers there are in these woods!" Robert said loudly to make himself heard over her cries for Kitt.

Terry and Paul sat on the ground nearby, watching with pale faces. They, too, had suffered the sickness and were still recovering.

Paul was Robert's younger brother by five years and had recently married Terry only a year ago. They had moved to Paxton after the honeymoon. Robert and Paul had gone into business together in the lucrative field of contractual home building. Paxton was a small town, but growing in leaps and bounds, as was their business. They had signed a large contract, with a national company that built family communities across the US, ten months ago. They began to reap the rewards after expanding their staff to fifty men two weeks after the signing. They were building two houses a week, bringing in a phenomenal amount of income, for all involved, with each house they finished.

Vicki had calmed down some while sitting on the ground in Robert's arms, sobbing quietly. All her motherly instincts were wired up, going against rational thinking. She strove to remain calm, resorting to the breathing exercise she had learned in her Stress Management course she had taken in night classes at Paxton High School earlier in the year. It seemed to be working, her sobs and trembling subsiding substantially.

Paul and Terry had recovered as well, getting to their feet to join the two older adults.
"What are we going to do now?" had just left the lips of Terry, when, as if in answer, three figures entered through a small break in the trees.

The three were dressed strangely. Certainly not the usual attire of central Texans. They wore dark brown, heavy cloth robes that could be more associated with the Hari Krishnan’s that were common place at the Dallas-Fort Worth Airport, sans tambourines, leaflets and the little ponytails erupting from the top of shaven heads. Instead, their hair was slick with some kind of fragrant oil, hanging straight down around thin gaunt faces to the shoulders. Their noses were as thin as their faces, resting above thin lips. Large honey brown eyes set in faces the color of dough left out too long, gave a haunted look to them. It was strange that they all looked rather similar, to the point that you couldn't make out their gender.

In silence, the three stood before them staring. Then, simultaneously, they bowed to the four bewildered people, bending at the waist, hands sliding down in front of them to the knees, chins dropping to the chest. They remained that way for a moment before straightening up. It was the one in the middle who finally spoke.

"Welcome to Tarnagou. I am Dekani, Lord Chancellor." he spoke slowly, carefully annunciating words he is obviously unfamiliar with, his accent thick and guttural. He raised his hands up to touch the sleeves of those on either side of him. "These are my advisors, Shendra and Pas-ta'al. We have been sent to bring the..." Here, he struggled for a moment, as if he was meaning to say one thing then opting to rephrase it "...the young one, Kitt, I think you call him, back to meet Kast-ta'al, our Holy One." His large eyes darted around the area, looking for the boy. "Where is he?"

Robert got to his feet, keeping his eyes on them. Dekani and his entourage seemed harmless enough, but looks could be deceptive. He cleared his throat before speaking.

"I'm Robert Humphrey. This is my wife, Victoria, my brother, Paul and his wife, Theresa," he said, indicating each with an outstretched hand. "As for Kitt, we don't know where he is. He wasn't with us when we regained consciousness."

Shendra and Pas-ta'al cast furtive glances to the Chancellor who shifted slightly.

"This is not good. We must find him, quickly," Dekani announced.

"Of course we must," Robert spoke with a hint of agitation, helping Vicki to her feet.

She swayed a moment, but recovered, giving her husband an encouraging smile and squeezing his hand to let him know she was okay. He released her hand, confident that she was well enough to stand on her own. Turning to face the opposite direction from which Dekani had made his appearance. They wouldn't need to begin their search there, since Dekani would have surely found the boy. There seemed to be a footpath of a sort, leading him to believe that this was a regular route to somewhere. This brought a question to his mind; he turned to face the Lord Chancellor.

"Dekani, where in Texas is Tarnagou located?" Once the words had left his lips, he was sure the answer was going to be one he didn't wish to hear.

"Tek-zass?" the strange man struggled with the word, "I do not know of this place you call Tek-zass. On which side of the Great Wild is it on?"

Robert felt his heart sink into the pit of his stomach, Vicki stared at Dekani, eyes wide and frightened, shaking her head to what could only be a lie. She grasped her husband's arm with one hand, her nails biting into it.

"Robert? What does he mean? We are still in Texas, aren't we? This is some kind of joke, right?" Vicki's voice was strained.

Staring hard at Dekani, Robert patted Vicki's hand, which was chilly with fear and still painfully gripping his arm.

"Texas, T-E-X-A-S! It's in the United States of America! In North America on the planet Earth!" His voice growing louder with his increasing exasperation and thoughts of his missing son. He saw he wasn't getting through to any of the three people standing mutely before him.

"Jesus Christ!"

He started to turn away with Vicki still clutching his arm. She staggered a bit with the unexpected move, her nails tearing three lines in her husband's arm. He yelped with pain, looking at his arm as three bright lines of red appeared on his flesh.

"C'mon," he said to her and his family, as he began to walk again, "Let's find Kitt and get the hell back home."

Robert strode to the edge of the woods, not looking back to see if anyone was following him. He was intent only in finding Kitt. He had a raging headache that over-rode the sting of the scratches on his arms. Pushing back foliage that hung across the narrow path, he crashed noisily into the woods. Vicki, Terry and Paul ran to keep up with him, none of them saying a word. The three Tarnagies looked at each other, quietly conferred for a moment then began to follow the foursome. They seemed as intent as them to find Kitt, but for their own reasons.

The group trudge onward, following the path that was overgrown in spots or blocked by fallen trees. These encounters had them seeking another way around. Most times finding the way difficult through briars and thick tangles of wild ivy, drawing them away from the path for several yards, and then having to re-find the meandering trail.

At least, it was difficult for the four Texans. Each time they had to make a detour and re-find the trail, the three strangers would already be there, waiting for them. This was beginning to unnerve them, for they never saw nor heard them pass.

"How do they do that?" whispered Paul to Robert as he bent down to pull a few rather nasty looking burrs stuck to the top of his socks.

They all had to deal with the burrs and scratches they were getting on their bare legs. They were all dressed in summer attire. The women in shift dresses and deck shoes; the men in polo shirts, walking shorts, white athletic socks and deck shoes. However, the Tarnagies seemed to be going unscathed. They didn't even look in the least winded with the rapid going they themselves were making. Finally, the trees began to thin out as they reached the edge of the woods.

"MOM! DAD!" Kitt's voice broke through the constant annoying humming of unseen insects.

"Kitt?" Vicki croaked through a parched throat, "KITT!"

She pushed pass the others, running out of the woods, across an open patch of ground before splashing into a small stream. There was Kitt on the opposite bank, looking as scared as any ten year old should after finding himself alone in a strange place.

*********************

The four adults surrounded the small boy, touching him with loving hands, showering him with kisses. It was a warm little family reunion until Terry turned around to pull one of those annoying burrs stuck to the edge of her deck shoe. Her scream broke the reunion up, all turning to the direction she was facing. Dekani and his two advisors were crossing over the brook, not slogging through it as the four adults had, but hovered a couple of inches above it. You could just make out their feet beneath the robes, clad in soft leather footwear, no motion of walking present. They all watched in disbelief. Kitt clung to his mother's shift, his small fist white-knuckled with the intensity of his grip, eyes saucer-wide.

As the three finally took a step onto terra-firma, the Texans took several steps back. Robert stepped protectively in front of his wife and child, remembering that Dekani had known about Kitt and now was suspicious of his motives. Hoping his voice belied his uneasiness, he spoke to them, "Don't come any closer! I don't want to fight you. Just let us be on our way and there will be no trouble."

His voice had done him justice, carrying an authoritative strength. Dekani and his minions stopped their approach at once. Their emotionless faces giving no trace of whether they might become malicious or continue to be benign. Either way, Robert would not allow them any closer to his son. He had to wonder though, as to what their interest in Kitt involved.

Dekani held out his hands in a passive fashion, showing that he meant no harm. Shendra and Pas-ta'al stood behind him, eyes cast to the ground in submission.

"Robert," the name sounding alien when spoken by the Lord Chancellor, "The boy, your family and you must come back with us to Badramara. Your Tek-zass is very far away. I do not know how you may reach it, but perhaps the Holy One may know of a way for you to return. You do not understand the dangers here, especially once darkness comes. You would not survive the creatures that prowl this area. We can offer you protection, food, drink, bed and anything else you should need. It is still of the utmost importance that Kitt meet with Kast-ta’al. You will come with us?"

Robert looked at him incredulously, but considered his words. It was true, that none of them knew what they would be up against in this unknown world. Having to deal with just the tenacious burrs was troublesome, what would the living creatures be like? For Kitt and the women's sake, he would have to relent to Dekani's request and take the offered shelter, even though his intuition nagged at the edge of his mind. He really didn't have many choices. He glanced at each face of his family and they looked at him, all but Kitt, who was still clutching his mother's legs, nodded assent, having taken into consideration themselves, that going with Dekani was the only logical thing to do given their circumstance.

"We will come with you," he finally answered, "but, I make no promises in regards to seeing this Holy man of yours. I want no burdens placed on my son."

"Fair enough, Robert. I do hope that you will change your mind about allowing the boy to meet with Kast-ta'al. She was very anxious about getting him safely to Badramara when she commanded me personally to retrieve him."

Pulling himself up to his whole height of five foot eleven inches, Robert turned his head to the Chancellor, raising his chin, showing the man he was in full command of what was right for his son, "We shall see."

He returned to his wife and son's sides, Paul and Terry joined them, gathering in a small circle.

"Robert, "Paul spoke up, "are you really considering going with them? I mean, we don't know anything about them. Who knows what their motives are? For all we know, we could end up as sacrifices to whatever gods they worship. I know that sounds ludicrous, but..."

Robert held up his hand, his face stern, "I know, Paul. The same thought, believe it or not, crossed my mind too. I feel we stand a better chance with them then we do out here alone. We also don't know what this new environment holds either. There could be animals, creatures out here that could..." he pauses to look at Kitt, carefully gauging his words for the boy's benefit, before continuing, "could cause us trouble. We have two women and a child to take into consideration. As much as I hold my reserve about going with them, I really don't see that we have any other choice. If we find another opportunity, one that will get us home, we will take it. Until then, we must go with them for now."

The other three adults nodded, faces solemn, finding no alternative but to agree with him. Each of them held an amount of concern, for each other and themselves, hardly daring to imagine of what the outcome of their situation would deal to them. Robert stooped before his son who was still clinging to his mother. The boy seemed so vulnerable, not showing his usual confident and robust attitude.

"Kitt, you're safe now. Mom and Dad won't let anything happen to you, I promise. We are going to go with these people to their city and find out how we can get home. Can you deal with that, Pokemon Master?" he spoke gently to his son, using the title he had honored the boy with when he saw how well he could handle himself on his Pokemon Game.

A tear stained face peers out from his mother's side, little hitching sobs causing his blonde head to bob. His eyes stand out startling blue against his tear-reddened whites.
"Y…y…yes, Daddy. I can do that," the boy answers and begins the task of pulling himself together by letting his death grip on his mother go.

Robert rewards Kitt with a beaming smile and a tousling of his hair, leaving it to stand up in soft spikes. Grimacing, the boy combs his fingers through it, doing his best to smooth it down.

"Ah, gee, Dad! Did you have to go and muss up my hair?"

Both parents laughed, Kitt not looking amused. "Let's go," the father announced, turning back to face Dekani, "Lead the way, Lord Chancellor."

The group re-crossed the creek, the three strangers floating above the water ahead of them. Their longs robes skimming the top of the water, but, amazingly, staying dry. Kitt was walking through the cold exhilarating water in a crouch, his eyes trying to peer up beneath the robes to see what was suspending them above the water, but seeing only the leather bottoms of sandals. His curiosity so intensely piqued by these people’s abilities. He sought to find answers to all these amazing things that have occurred, and that involved asking questions.

The boy slogged past the adults in a spray of cold water, his bare feet tickled by bright green algae growing on the smooth rocks beneath a crystal clear surface. Little things that appeared to be some sort of fish, darted off in a shimmer of silver. Kitt caught at the robe hem of Pas-ta'al, who was trailing behind his two comrades, giving a light tug on the coarse fabric. The emotionless face of the man turns down to the boy, a good twelve inches further below him than normal. His large almond shaped, honey brown eyes appearing out of place on a humanoid countenance. A bare trace of a smile turns the corners of his thin lips up, his head swiveling back to mark his progress, "Yes, Kitt, what is it you would like to know?"

Kitt's mouth drops open, blue eyes widening, "You…you knew I was going to ask you something! Can you read minds? How? How do you that! How can you float above the water? What is this place and how did we get here?"

The string of questions babble out of him, a fountain of youth and curiosity, an inquisitive mind seeking answers.

A chortling laugh, low and mellow, erupts from Pas-Ta'al, "Ah, young one, you are so full of being a child. Something I have not seen in a very long time. It warms me to see such exuberance again."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm a kid." Kitt says pouting, put out that his questions were not being answered. "But how do you do these things?"


(to be continued)