Playing Marbles for the Big Blue

01 Alban Invasion, Almost

By Jo Dora Webster

How will Rasctan make a name for himself on Alban Kai?

01 Alban Invasion, Almost

My name is Rasctan and I am a pre emergent male Alban from the planet Alban Kai. I am at the top of my class in the Aurenium which is an educational facility for geniuses. My specialty is in AI engrams and positronic which gives me a wonderful and lucrative profession. I finished at the Aurenium five cycle of Alban Kai before the standard completion time. That gives me a head start on those who share my birth time.

So far my claim to fame was my creation of an AI the size of a gem stone. I gave my AI a female persona who named herself Sela. Sela's most useful ability is that she can interface and take over commanding any interfaced device. The unique thing about Sela is that she can grow and add other functions and abilities. Sela was my entry in the Alban Kai Innovation Contest of all Aurenium and I won. However I only was eligible for half the prize since I would not sell my intellectual property or Sela herself to the corporation which sponsored the contest. It was after this slight that I resolved that I would be extraordinary instead of ordinary and I have a plan.

I consider it an opportunity that we have just a few planets that we allow to trade with us, since all of Alban Kai is cloaked. The few people who discovered our present trading partners are the most treasured people on the planet. I resolved to become one of those people and I started by asking Sela to take a new form. She formed herself into a very attractive woman's bracelet which was permanently around my right wrist.

"Sela, what are we going to do today?"

"The same thing we do every day, Rasctan. Try to take over the world."

"How are we going to do that Sela?"

"Go to the spaceport and steal a spaceship."

"How do we find a space port, Sela, since they are cloaked? "

"We will go to the coordinates that I obtained from Space Control and I will give us passage through the cloak"

Sela led us straight to the coordinates and gave us safe passage through the cloak. I didn't have to ask Sela where to find a spaceship because our most advanced scout ship was birthed right in front of us. Sela went to work and opened the door to allow us to enter it. Next Sela commanded the support automation to fully fuel and provision the ship. Sela outfitted the ship and engaged a new type of cloak which was undetectable by the authorities. Even though the ship was normally operated by 6 people, Sela was able to control all of the ship's functions.

"Sela, You seem to have everything under control. What can I do?"

"Rasctan, why don't you go to the bridge and sit in the command chair. If you do that you'll feel useful."

I went to the bridge and sat in the command chair as Sela suggested.

"Sela, What is ship status?"

"Ship is fully functioning and ready for space flight."

"Sela, Disengage all moorings. Set course for planetary cloaking shield. Engage!"

"Moorings disengaged. Ship on course for planetary cloak"

"Sela, I guess it's too late to ask this but can you get us through the planetary cloak?"

"I'm working on it. 100 picocycles to cloak boundary."

"Sela, what will happen to the ship if we don't get passage through the cloak."

"Rasctan, the ship will implode. 50 pico cycles to the cloak boundary."

"Sela, should I go to the travel pod just in case?"

"It's too late for that. 10 picocycles to the cloak boundary"

"Aaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeee!"

"Passage given through planetary cloak. Ship has emerged in interplanetary space."

"Sela, Scan for planets which have more water mass than land mass."

While Alban Kai has lakes on the surface and water beneath the planet's crust, it stands to reason that one day we will have used our supply and we will need a trading partner to provide us with water. None of our current trading partners have any more water than we have so they will keep theirs.

"I have found three planets that meet those parameters"

"What is the data on the closest planet?"

"The Closest planet is Sol III or Terra inhabited by Terrans. It's been a quarantined planet due to being privative with mandatory Terran body illusion required but in your case it won't be necessary because Terrans are identical to preemergent Albans. Albans may have colonized Terra in the distant past but Terrans don't have an emergent state. Terra is privative because Terrans perpetuate wars with themselves using fission and fusion weapons. Their technology is unremarkable and with their rockets they have only had maned landings on their moon, Selene."

"Sela, set a course for Sol III and engage Tessaract Drive."

"Course set and Tessaract drive engaged and operating under normal parameters"

"Sela, E.T.A. to Sol III"

"One Microcycle."

"Have there been any sanctioned landings on Sol III?"

"There is no data on that since all spaceships that made a close approach to the planet sent back the limited data we have on the planet but none returned. Standard procedure on approaching a quarantined planet is to remain cloaked so that Sol III's limited space ships and sensors could not detect them."

"Sela, Do you have any recommendation on how to proceed?"

"Rasctan, We could terminate the Tessaract Drive at the edge of the Sol System and engage our cloak then travel using our photon drive. The Sol system has an asteroid belt which is mostly unexplored by their probes. We could hide the Spaceship behind one of those asteroids and take a cloaked travelpod on photon drive to explore Sol III from orbit. If there is no danger detected then a landing would be indicated."

"Sela, if beings more advanced than us sent a ship into proximity of Alban Kai then we would consider that an alien invasion, wouldn't we."

"It's only in the third person that it would be their invasion. In the first person it would be our exploration."

"Sela, alter destination to boundary of Sol system then cloak and proceed to their asteroid belt on photon drive and park behind an optimal asteroid."

"Course altered and implemented. Further instructions recorded for later execution. Sol system boundary arrival, ship cloaked and proceeding on photon drive. Course set for Asteroid AET64. ETA 100 Pico cycles."

Sela, please do not give a countdown to arrival. Please park behind Asteroid AET64."

"Compliance!"

"Sela, scan signals from Sol III and detect speculative fiction and scan them for concepts not considered by Alban technology and report by most remarkable."

"Most remarkable concept is a teleport. Albans have nothing like it. However their own physics discovered by their Heisenberg renders actual implementation impossible. Their fiction gets around it by saying that the teleport has a Heisenberg compensator."

"Sela, has our science created a Heisenberg Compensator?"

"It has and all of the functions of a teleport can be reduced to mathematical implementation. It would be restricted in range from high planetary orbit to the surface."

"Sela, extend your function to be able to teleport."

"Additional function implemented. We have arrived and have parked behind Asteroid AET64."

"Excellent. Sela, please ready the travelpod for operation. I'll be there momentarily."

"Travelpod ready for departure. What a good idea to monitor the Terran fiction broadcasts. They have thought of many things that the Albans have not yet and we have the technology to implement."

"Sela, Engage cloak and set course for Travel Pod to high Sol III orbit and engage photon drive."

"Course set and photon drive engaged."

"Sela, how much trouble awaits me back on Alban Kai?"

"Since the cloaking technology that I used on you and the spaceship is unknown, there is not any evidence of what you have done. Your absence may be detected but it would not occur to them to look off planet for you. We have arrived in high orbit of Sol III."

"Alert! Radiation detected in belts surrounding the planet of a kind unknown to us Alert! The radiation belts have expanded due to the impact of Sol eruptions. . Alert! Radiation has penetrated ship systems damaging them. Alert! Photon drive detonation imminent!"

"Sela. Teleport, Teleport now!"

Just before the travelpod exploded, I and Sela were teleported to the surface of Sol III also known to us as Terra. However, I would bet that like all primitive cultures the inhabitants called their planet Earth. I guess I just made what they would call an alien invasion of Earth.

"Sela, are you undamaged?"

"Thank you Rasctan. I am fully functional. I am very glad that you made me radically different from all existing Alban technology. The radiation and all other Terran abnormalities can not damage me. All other technology on the travelpod was compromised so only you and I escaped alone."

"Sela, Was the travelpod detectable when it exploded?"

"Yes the explosion was detectable by their satellites in high Sol III orbit which is desirable since they are geostationary. There are even higher probes located at LaGrange points L4 and L5 but those sensors are mostly directed away from Sol III. However three satellites launched by the nation states: China, Russia, and USA were destroyed in the explosion of the travelpod which will be missed and investigated. This may be interpreted by them as either an attack between nation states or an invasion of Sol IIi."

"Sela, this breach of the quarantine concerns me. I must acquire native clothing. I don't want to disobey the planetary quarantine any further."

"I have detected ambient magic bound to this planet's earth wind fire water and heart. In their fiction there is mention of magic in their ancient times but no one practices it today. I however can utilize it to transform your clothes. I have examined their present day transmissions. Would you like casual or formal clothes?"

"Sela, casual clothes please. And pick for me a name that a Terran in this area might have."

"A name for you could be Robert. the diminutive names associated with Robert are Rob or Robbie."

Sela used magic to transform my clothes into a Terran casual wear and I was satisfied with them. Robert was an acceptable Terran name for me and I felt I'd removed the most apparent advertisement of my status.

"Sela, Are there any remains of the travelpod that their sensors might detect?"

"All of the travelpod was disintegrated by the photon drive. The small pieces of the three satellites caught in the explosion remain in their orbits. Fortunately no trace of our technology is detectable by their technology at this time."

I turned my attention to my surroundings which were all in their natural state for as far as I could see in every direction.

"Sela, what is the Terran designation for our location?"

"We are in the Rocky Mountain National Forest in the state of Colorado in the USA nation state, on the continent of North America. The nearest Metropolis is called Denver. It is 10 minutes past noon in their time units which means that it is about six hours until sunset. the season is spring but in this area temperatures at night are frigid to Terrans or humans as they call themselves."

"Sela, must I seek shelter?"

"I can provide warmth and protection from the elements by magic. However remaining here long-term may not be optimum since you might be discovered accidentally."

"Sela, can you with magic enable us to communicate telepathically by magic when we are not alone?"

"Yes I can and I will implement that protocol"

"Sela, can you devise a way that we could get water to a spaceship without the spaceship penetrating the radiation belts? They can't carry enough to be useful with their rockets."

"Actually their technology might give the Albans a solution to replenish our water. They have a means of producing power that they call a fuel cell. It has Hydrogen and Oxygen as inputs and outputs water. The Albans already have means of getting the inputs in unlimited quantiles both on planet and from our current trading partners. The Terrans store the inputs in their liquid state which may help with acquiring large quantities from our trading partners."

"Sela, does that mean that I can accomplish the same recognition by bringing the new inventions to Alban Kai instead of proposing trade with Sol III?"

"Yes, we could do that once we arrive back on Alban Kai. However the radiation belt blocks my Confed non-RF communication with the space ship so I can not bring it closer. My teleport range is only to High earth orbit which is not sufficient to reach the space ship which even if we were able to bring it closer could not enter the Van Allen Belt. My magic decreases exponentially as I get farther from the surface so that would not help either. We can't go home until this challenge is solved, which we don't have a solution."

"Sela, would you concentrate on the challenge and tell me a solution is found that we can implement."

"Indeed, I have found a solution that will satisfy our parameters. I have discovered in Ecuador a previously unused due to fiber optics 40 meter satellite dish which was converted to a radio telescope. Since this radio observatory was financed by a rogue SETI scientist, part of it's utilization is to send SETI broadcasts which might permit our communications with the space ship by piggybacking our signal to the spaceship on to their broadcast. All we would need to do is to wait until the SETI broadcast transmitter is directed toward our spaceship. Ordinary Earth broadcasts would escape the Van Allen Belt but our undecodable Confed RF signal is less likely to be discovered with our plan."

"Sela, interface with the SETI Radio Telescope and alert me when their broadcast is being sent in the direction of the spaceship."

"I will. I have found a solution for your lack of information about this planet. I have obtained a great deal of information from their broadcasts and from a digital repository that they call the internet. I can use magic so you will know all of this too."

"Sela, that is a wonderful idea! please proceed."

"Compliance."

Sela gave me the knowledge that I needed to understand life on Earth. Not only that but I fully understood the technology that Earth had to offer along with all the speculative fiction inventions that we could implement on Alban Kai. What I could not understand is how someone without any identification could make a life in Colorado. The United States had laws to prevent unauthorized immigration so without identification I would be treated as a law breaker.

"Sela, Is there any update to what the nation states have determined about the explosion of our travelpod and the destruction of their satellites?"

"Since they all denied that they caused the explosion, they all were compelled to share their data which triangulated the position of the explosion. With the explosion originating in space where no object existed before, each nation state concluded that this was an invasion using technology beyond their own. In the absence of any more occurrences, they determined no imminent threat existed. However they agreed to share deep space intelligence indicating any future threat."

"Sela, I guess that is the best outcome that we could expect under the circumstances. Since we are marooned here, avoiding a war between nation states is fortunate. While our addition to evidence of visitation of Earth is unfortunate, their nation states have continued to be successful in convincing humans that such visitations are a myth."

"Robert, I have detected that your advancement to your emergence and puberty has accelerated and the acceleration is variable. If you were to undergo emergence you would no longer be the same as the humans and you might require some sort of camouflage."

"Sela,I guess since we don't know when that will happen, we will decide what to do when it happens."

"Robert, have you decided to remain in this location for now?"

"Sela, until we can determine a way to comply with their laws, I feel that we should stay away from other humans. Are there other places within teleport range that we could visit with the same parameters, which may provide further insight.?"

"Indeed, there are other locations which would satisfy our parameters."

We had a good life in this remote area of the Rocky Mountain National Forest. Sela could, much more quickly than I could, select other places which were remote enough to visit. I particularly enjoyed a remote place in Mexico with access to the Pacific Ocean. We had nothing like the oceans with salt water on Alban Kai. Sela monitored her interface with the SETI Radio Transmitter but it was not yet pointed in the right direction time after time. Finally, Sela discovered that the radio telescope had been commanded to transmit in the right direction.

"Robert, I have a communication link with the space ship which according to their scheduling will be maintained for some time."

"Sela, transmit all knowledge of Sol III that we have obtained including our discoveries which will be beneficial to Alban Kai. Since the spaceship can not approach close enough to Earth to permit us to teleport to it, keep the spaceship parked behind Asteroid AET64."

"Transmission complete. I have saved this planetary position so that we may return to send future messages to the spaceship. However transmission will only be possible if the same position of the transmitter exists at the time."

"Sela, we discovered that there are elements on Earth which are missing from our Alban Kai periodic table. There are elements missing from Earth but were discovered on Alban Kai or we discovered from our trading partners. Was that data included in the transmission?"

"Of course, Robert, that information was included. It is relevant because the composition of the salt water and even the composition of the air on the Earth has elements not present on Alban Kai."

A great deal of time, days, weeks and months passed and we explored more of the planet Earth within our parameters. We kept returning to the very familiar place we called home where we first arrived on Earth. When Sela discovered the transmitter pointed in the right direction, she sent an update to the spaceship.

"Robert, we ought not go on any more adventures for a time. The time of your emergence draws near."

"Sela, you are right. Here in our home in the Rocky Mountain National Forrest, we have had a history of being alone. I hope that my emergence goes well."

More time passed and The SETI Radio Telescope discovered some promising results while it was receiving signals pointed in the right direction to transmit to our spaceship and the radio telescope remained pointed in that direction. Finally the time had come.

"Alert! Robert your vital signs are fluctuating. Your emergence is coming now."

I was overcome with the symptoms that every Alban knows which culminate with unconsciousness. When I awoke ,I will have emerged. I was unaware as things happened to me over some time.

"Robert, your vital signs are stabilizing. Are you awake?"

"Sela, I am awake but I feel funny. I know that I have not emerged. What happened to me?"

"You have become an adult female human. I can only guess that the new elements and new environment hijacked your emergence and did that to you."

"If I had become an Alban female, I would have joined the superior sex. But if i returned as a human, adult female I would forever be an oddity on Alban Kai even with my unique status.. Sela, please call me Roberta and make me some appropriate clothes. "

Sela put me into a casual blouse and slacks with athletic shoes and the right undergarments.

"Sela, could you teach me to be female?"

Playing Marbles for the Big Blue

02 Abducted by Alvians

By Jo Dora Webster

How will Roberta make a life for herself on Earth?

02 Abducted by Alvians

Sela did teach me to be a female just as I had asked her. That was just after I had been transformed into a human female. Being human was not a great burden since I looked and functioned almost the same as I had been as a Alban. Being female was jarring. Instead of slowly growing into a adult woman, I had been instantly transformed into one. I also had to get used to the name Roberta which was my second name change from Rasctan when I was an Alban male.

"Sela, do you still have your link to the SETI radio telescope in Ecuador?"

"Roberta, not only do I still have a control link to there, but they also continue to get interesting data when they are receiving data, so they are keeping the antenna pointed in the direction where our space ship can receive it. While they are broadcasting we continue to be able to contact the spaceship."

"Sela, it has been difficult for me to deal with my emergence having been hijacked. I don't even know what the result of the emergence is to be. My parents always took a pre-emergent form except they had gone through puberty and were adults. It is tradition to keep children in the dark like that, but it does not serve me well cut off from my people like I am now."

"Roberta, while I have a great deal of information on Earth, my information on Alban Kai is limited to the information that you had access.
to have. from what I know about Alban behavior, your being human will be the greater oddity. You would be a fully developed adult who was not and could not undergo emergence. Then there is your being the child of the Queen of the Alban Matriarchy and your father being her consort. As a female ordinarily you would become the princess and next in line to be queen. As a human you might be disavowed by your parents. With being denied your rights as an Alban, you could be exiled from Alban and have no home."

"Sela, what can I do to make a life on Earth?".
"Roberta, I dislike mentioning this, but I have one possibility for you to gain a legal identity. It would involve a death of a human in a remote area that we could find the body before the authorities. Of course, it would have to be one who's death that we could not prevent. I could alter your body to be identical to the dead person. In addition, your body would have signs of an accident which could indicate possible memory loss, which would explain your lack of some knowledge."

"Sela, perhaps by successfully taking the person's place, we could delay their loved ones dealing with their death. Sela, I have decided we will stay on Earth. Let me know when the transmitter is pointed in the right direction for transmission to the spacecraft."

"Roberta, the SETI Radio Telescope continues to be pointed in the direction where our spaceship can receive it and the radio telescope is transmitting now."

"Sela, Send the spaceship a sequence of commands to execute. First cloak and proceed on photon drive to the edge of the solar system. Next, set course for Alban Kai orbit outside the planetary cloak and engage Tessaract drive. In transit use Confed standard communication to retransmit all data. Upon arrival maintain position."

"Roberta, the spaceship has received the commands and has started its journey to Alban Kai."

I thought that I would have time to spend moping around feeling sorry for myself that I had lost my home world, yet I had yet to make a home on Earth. But as had happened so often since I began seeking fame and fortune without help for myself, another unexpected event happened.

"Alert: A car on the road at the boundary of our home area has ejected a human female and has left the area at high speed."

"Sela let's go find the woman and render aid if we can. Please teleport me to the exact location that she is now."

"Compliance."

It was an ugly sight. A human woman had her life taken from her long before she had been tossed out like garbage along the road. Her body showed the evidence of having been beaten to death. That was all apparent at first sight, Sela would be able to determine more.

"Sela, surround us with a cloaking shield."

"Compliance. She is an ordinary human with an extraordinary implant in her forearms which are of Limoxian manufacture. Unlike the standard illusion implants used for observing quarantine planet restrictions and the like this set was modified for spy work. Instead of the large data collection area, many specialty functions originated there suitable for spying. Elsewhere in the device hidden and password encoded there is a recorder for just the thoughts and actions of the individual. The illusion projection was augmented by a hologram emitter which allowed the new solid form of the person to match their appearance. "

"Sela, If I am to portray an amnesiac human, perhaps it would be better for you to copy the contents of the secret recorder to yourself so that we'll have access to it. Once copied remove both the data and the secret recorder from the devices."

"Compliance"

"Sela, Please, make a copy of all that is me, maintain and save it within yourself so that in an emergency I can be rendered a complete amnesiac especially if I am initially examined by medical personnel. Please implant the devices in my forearms and then by magic turn me into her but remove all her trauma except the evidence of one accidental nonlethal head blow sufficient to render her unconscious."

"Compliance"

I didn't feel any different even though my body had changed, in basic form I was the same. I was aware of and because I was born an Alban, I could access the implants and operate them. I had successfully taken over the identity of this woman so three tasks remained. I must find out my new identity and history particularly how did I die. We must dispose of her body. We must drop the cloaking shield after I duplicated her position and Sela made me unconscious while keeping vigil over me.

"Sela, who am I now?"

"You are Natalie Oakley Wellington married to Mark Wellington but also with Golram name Nayika married to Makelan."

"What is the original Natalie's history?"

"The original Natalie's history on the recording begins on their wedding night when Mark inserted the implants prior to their marriage being consummated Mark revealed himself to be a Golram from the planet Confedia named Makelan. He released the illusion and his true appearance reminded Natalie of either a dwarf or troll from earth's legends. He turned on the implants and Natalie found herself looking like a female of Makelan's species. Makelan named her Nayika and told her that she would be in that form whenever they were alone and unobserved. He revealed that the reason he had fallen in love with her was not because of her appearance but because of her inner beauty. He had been marooned on Earth after his spaceship was destroyed in the Van Allen Belt. He entered the escape pod that soft-landed on Earth which was all that remained of the ship after the explosion. They consummated their marriage never suspecting that their species were biologically incompatible and that they could never produce children."

"Sela, Golram's speak Confed, so I guess He had to learn to speak English like I did. It must have been like Confedia all over again for him being marooned on Earth. Confedia is the seat of the Limoxian Confederation or Confed and because of this Golrams became a minority on the planet. Confedia has the governing conclave and appointed Autocracy of the articles of confederation. While most Golram are peaceful people dedicated to Confed government with an ambassadorial fleet of spaceships deployed, this Makelan must be different since he undertook a spy mission on a quarantined planet."

"Makelan had heard that Earth had plenty of desirable untapped resources like it's abundant water. His plan was to covertly find those in power on Earth and augment its technological advancement so that it quickly would be able to join the Confed. With his acquiring rights to Earth's important resources, He could return to Confedia as Earth's representative and join the government as a freshly minted member of the Confed Autocracy. However, he soon found out that there were too many nation states to negotiate with and with Earth's waring nature giving them Confed technology would be hastening Earth becoming a dead planet without resources which they already might do with their fission and fusion weapons."

"Sela, the failure of his plans must have made Makelan a very bitter Golram. It's no wonder that he chose to remake his mate in his own image and have a family even if not full Golrams. It must have upset him year after year that his wife did not bear him children. I guess it upset him that even though she looked and felt like a Golram and spoke Confed with the inner beauty he fell in love with she was only a knockoff in reality. Was that why He killed her?"

"Yes, the year after year of her being a knockoff and not bearing children had turned his love to hatred. His anger became so uncontrolled that he attacked her. Fortunately, the first blow rendered her unconscious, so she was spared the painful and gruesome nature of her death."

"Sela, please augment your function by being able to emit a stunning beam and a disintegration beam. Use the disintegration beam to dispose of Natalie's body. Please aid me in assuming the position that her body was in. Then render me unconscious, communicate with me telepathically and watch over me. Finally drop the cloaking shield so that I may be observed."

"Compliance ~Natalie you are now unconscious, and I am speaking to you telepathically. I am watching over you.~"

"~Sela please give to me telepathically what your visual and audible senses detect.~"

"~Compliance.~"

I was now able to see and hear what was going on around me. It was not long afterward that a car drove up and stopped 100 yards from my location. A handsome man got out of the car using a device that was obvious to me had Limoxian technology. He used it to scan the area and it appeared locked on to my implants because using it he became closer and closer to me.

"~Don't worry Natalie, neither this device or any others they have will be able to detect me. I'll take care of you. The man is an Alvian so he should not harm you.~"

"~Sela, The Alvians, as I remember, are a Confed Member just like my original species, the Albans who come from the planet Alvia, they appear like angels from earth's legends which might suggest a visitation in earth's distant past. They have a missionary fleet of spaceships, and they are dedicated to spiritual enrichment over physical needs.~"

~"Natalie, you are correct. In addition, they are pacifists and generally a good species. However, they are not above using coercion, deception, and other such tactics when they feel like it can serve the greater good for them but not to their victim.~"

The man finally stopped near me and stood over me. He used his device to scan me, and I assumed that Sela had interfaced with the device to make it report what we wanted it to reveal. That is that I was an unconscious human woman with a head wound and having Confed implants.

"Oh Natalie, Natalie, Natalie. I begged you to leave that Golram because eventually his rages would kill you. I'm glad that he did not succeed this time. it's been very painful seeing you in the neighborhood and witnessing all the evidence of his physical abuse of you. The implants you have reveal that even though there is no standard recording that he's been using it for you to appear as a Golram. Technically that means that you are Limoxian now and the quarantine does not apply to you. That callous husband of yours has disposed of you, left you for dead if I had not found you, and took off. He obviously won't be back and will be assuming a new life elsewhere. The medscan detects that not only are you unconscious but you have total amnesia. That presents an opportunity for me and protection for you should that Golram come back in search of you."

"~Natalie, I'm detecting that he is changing the programing of your implants. He cannot alter your natural state, but he is programing another appearance mode for you which he just activated. You now appear to be his missing wife, Celeste Hardin. He's replaced the Golram appearance mode with an Alvian appearance mode.~"

"Oh Sweetheart, my Celeste! It is disturbing to see your image again. Our medbay inside the escape pod was unable to stop your death. Since we could not risk a human burial for you lest you be discovered as Alvian, I had to disintegrate your body. After much searching and no evidence of foul play, your status was determined as missing. Now Natalie you will become Celeste. You will be hidden from detection from that Golram and my children will have a mother again. I have no expectation or desire that you will be a wife to me. At least as Celeste, I can protect you from future harm. I need to get you to a medical facility which will be alright since you are human. I will take advantage of your amnesia to give you Celeste's life. I know that makes me an abductor imprisoning you, but I hope it to be benevolent."

"~Fortunately, the implants will present you as an ordinary human to earth technology. Your abductor, Greg Hardin, will get confirmation of your condition via medical records when he takes you to a hospital. They will be able to revive you and they will be able to confirm your new identity as Hardin's wife. He will be able to use his medbay to change your physical body to a copy of his dead wife. I will revive you at the appropriate time.~"

We arrived at Estes Park, CO and stopping at the Estes Park Medical Center. Greg carried my unconscious body inside the E/R where he was led to an exam room where he placed me on the bed. Before they had a chance to inquire about the circumstances Greg spoke to them.

"This is my wife, Celeste Hardin. I'm her husband, Greg. Celeste has been missing for six months. I found her with this headwound and unconscious in the Rocky Mountain National Park. Please help her."

"I'm Doctor Janice Zha, I specialize in head trauma. We'll go ahead and admit your wife. We'll need to do some tests to diagnose her condition and also some tests to confirm her identity for the authorities. Mister Hardin where do you live?"

"We live in Loveland with our two girls. The Loveland police handled Celeste's disappearance. They could not find any evidence of where she went after she left home that day. It's been a real mystery of what happened to her. There wasn't enough to go on that none of those reality shows asked to cover her disappearance."

"I'll alert the Estes Park Police and let them know that your wife disappeared in Loveland. Meanwhile I will get those identification tests done and then send her to get a head MRI to see how much damage she has sustained. Were the Loveland police able to obtain a DNA sample for Celeste?"

"Yes, they took a DNA sample from hair caught in her hairbrush and confirmed it from DNA samples taken from me and my girls. Thank you, Doctor."

Before she left Doctor Zha took a DNA sample and made a fingerprint card to establish Celeste's identity. Then I was sent to get the MRI of my head that the doctor ordered. Sela had given me a temporary total memory loss then I was given the MRI. I was very glad that I was unconscious since the containment would have made me very claustrophobic. When they were through, Sela restored my memory, and I was taken back to a private room. Waiting there for me was Greg and two Estes Park detectives.

"Mr. Hardin, the DNA and fingerprint results have come back and with the data provided by the Loveland police we can confirm that this is your wife, Celeste. With the medical results that the blunt force trauma was accidental, the case can be closed."

"Thank you, detectives. I am so glad to get her back and her daughters will be too. Now hopefully the doctors here will treat her so that she will make a full recovery."

"Mr. Hardin, I believe our work here is done. We'll report our findings to the Loveland police so that they can close the missing person's case on your wife. We'll be going now and give our regards to your wife when she recovers."

The detectives left and Dr. Zha returned to give Greg a report on my condition.

"Mr. Hardin, I have the results from the MRI. Celeste sustained a blunt force trauma sufficient for memory loss. She has a concussion and no real medical reason for her to remain unconscious. Her brain and head seem okay aside from the external damage which should heal completely. She should make a total recovery. I'm going to try to wake her with smelling salts."

Dr. Zha introduced the smelling salts and Sela woke me. I opened my eyes and spoke.

"Where am I?"

"Darling, you are in Estes Park Medical Center. Celeste, I have missed you so much."

"I don't remember that name. I don't remember anything at all. I'm afraid."

"I'm Doctor Zha, your attending physician. Even though you don't remember being named Celeste, we are going to call you that. We have confirmed medically that you are Celeste Hardin. You disappeared sis months ago from your home in Loveland. You are wife to Greg Hardin, the man here, and mother to two children. Celeste we are going to give you a few more tests and if they look good you will be released from the hospital into Greg Hardin's care. We don't have any way of knowing when or if your memory will return. It is best that you be in familiar surroundings as that might trigger memory recovery. Also, even though you don't know Greg or your daughters, they all love you dearly and they will take good care of you. Is that okay with you, Celeste?"

"Yes, Doctor Zha. that sounds great. Greg, when they release me, I will be glad to go home with you so that hopefully I will regain my memory, and everything can go back to the way that things were before I disappeared."

Greg excused himself while I was being wheeled away to call and check up on his daughters who were being looked after by a neighbor girl. Sela intercepted the conversation with the sitter then with his oldest daughter. Greg told her that her mother had been found alive, but she had total memory loss and that she believed she was a human. He told her to let her sisters know and to keep secret that Mother was an Alvian until he thought she could handle being told.

They put me through a few more tests and confirmed that my body was okay. I was able to walk and function normally. Finally, they released me into Greg's care, and they transported me to the hospital entrance in a wheelchair even thought I did not need it. Greg had pulled the car up to the entrance and they helped me into the car. Greg got into the car then drove us away from the hospital and on the road to Loveland.

"Sweetheart, I'd like to remind you of a few things before we get to the house. We have two daughters and you being missing has hurt them deeply. I'll help you learn about them, and they understand that you don't remember them. I hope that once you see them you will be able to tell that they are your genuine daughters even though you don't remember giving birth to them. For their sake, please love them and treat them as your own daughters. I don't expect you to be a wife to me when you don't remember loving me, but please be a mother to them."

"Greg, I will be a mother to my daughters even though I don't remember them. I will love them because they are my children. Greg, please tell me more about them?"

"Celeste. your oldest daughter is Gail. She's 10 years old. She takes ballet lessons, and she wants to be a ballerina when she grows up. She loves hearing stories She want s to be an episcopal priest when she grows up just like me. Your youngest daughter is Sally. She's six years old. She loves horses and we take her to an equestrian stable where she rides a pony. She loves science and wants to be an astronaut when she grows up. "

"Greg, they are far enough apart in age that I should not have any problem calling them by their names. I am so excited to meet them! I'm going to go over in my mind everything that I have been told so hopefully I won't make many mistakes."

"Celeste, I will leave you to your thoughts and let you rest. Goodness knows that you'll have plenty of activity when we arrive home soon."

I didn't really have to memorize everything about my new life that I had been told. I had Sela to telepathically prompt me of all the things I had been told. I had yet another new life on Earth. I had the longest time as Robert. I had a short time as Roberta. I had an even shorter time as Natalie, the victim of a Golram. Now I had a new life as Celeste, an Alvian mother.

I felt it was ironic that I am now a human who was abducted by an alien Alvian and was his captive. My plan was to take the place of a human woman and now I had twice over. Hopefully my Alvian abductor will never find out who I really am and will be kind to me for the sake of his children. It is fortunate that Alvians are not telepathic. So now I go to meet his children and be the best mother to them that I could be.

Playing Marbles for the Big Blue

03 Mother - Ship

By Jo Dora Webster

Will Celeste escape slavery at the hands of the Alvians?

03 Mother - Ship

"~Celeste we are about to be able to see Greg Hardin's house on the right.~"

"~Thank you Sela. Do you observe anything else?~"

"~Greg has a Tesser set to stun hidden in his left hand. I suggest that you don't react and simply turn your back to him and let him stun you.~"

"~Sela, I will comply. Please send me your perceptions of the sights and sounds around us telepathically.~"

I turned my back on Greg and looked out the window of the minivan that Greg was driving. Greg spoke to me.

"Celeste, sweetheart, please keep looking at the houses on the right. Our house will be in view soon. I hope it begins to jog some memories."

Sela showed me from her perspective what Greg was doing. Greg stopped the minivan on the street just before his home's driveway. He then pulled out the Tesser and shot me with it. I again was aware subconsciously and functional thanks to Sela even though incapacitated outwardly. I fell unconscious and I slumped against the minivan door but did not fall out of my seat. Greg drove the Minivan to the end of the driveway. At the end on a separate slab which merged into the driveway, sat a Mini Cooper. Greg came out his door and went around to mine. He slung me over his shoulder and carried me down a hill around to the back of the house. At the back the full basement wall with windows was exposed and it had it's own entrance. Something sensed his presence and it opened up the door for him and closed it after we were inside. There was a mud room with space to hang coats and store boots. Beyond the mudroom was the entry into a great room but over to the left was a closet. The closet door opened like the back door and behind the ordinary door was another door which opened by disappearing into the top to open and it let us in.

"~Sela, the closet is bigger on the inside than on the outside.~"

"~Celeste, the interior is dimensionally transcendental which is why it is bigger on the inside. This was their escape pod which took the family safely to Earth when their ship was presumably destroyed by the Van Allen Belt.~"

Greg took me deeper into the space pod. I recognized the Alvian design of the interior and had further confirmation that they were Alvans. I supposed that our destination was to their infirmary where Greg would alter my human form to be identical to his dead wife's appearance. I was curious what the Alvan Technology would be able to do to reshape my human body. My destination was revealed a moment later when Greg took me into the infirmary and laid me down on a treatment bed. Greg turned off the disguise emitter and he restrained me on the treatment bed. I could hear Greg talking to me again while I was unconscious.

"Oh Natalie, Natalie, Natalie. Now I am going to hide you in plain sight from that Golram, Makelam. You get your freedom from him and I get a Mother for my children. You can be assured that I will treat you with every kindness and respect due to you as Mother to my children. Even though you did not birth them, you will care for my children as if you did carry them in your womb. I don't know if over time you will fall in love with me and want to have a life as my wife. I shall be content to let us have separate lives and beds. Even though I would never have chosen a human to mate with I will treat you with as much love as I had for Celeste while she lived. For a while you will be ignorant of my family's origin on Alvia. With your spy bands to aid, you will see yourself transformed into an Alvian and with their capabilities you will be able to fly as we do. Then you will be truly one of us and with you sharing our lives and secret, I won't take the risk of you ever leaving us. Your life will be in a cage with us but I shall do my best to make it a pleasant cage. This will be the last time I address you as Natalie. Now you take on my wife's body, in every human detail, that for her was a human simulation but for you will be real. I shall always call you Celeste starting now. Sleep on Celeste, because when you wake you will take on your new life."

Greg programed the medical device, then it began to remake me in Celeste's image. Watching the process was amazing and at the end I was indeed looked the splitting image of the image in the photos of Celeste that I had seen earlier. After the process was completed, Greg scooped me up and again draped me over his shoulder and took us back around the house to the front but this time he took me to the front door. Greg laid me down sitting with my back against the houses exterior wall. He changed the setting on the Tesser to revive and discharged it in my direction. I came out of it and looked up at Greg.

"Greg, what happened to me?"

"Celeste, you feinted as we got to the front door. We need to get you to eat to build up your strength again. Do you think you can stand if I help you up?"

"Greg, I think so. Let's try."

I was indeed able to stand with Dreg's help and then Greg rang the doorbell instead of unlocking it with his key. A pretty and pleasent 18 year old girl answered the door.

She saw Greg and greeted him. "Hello Mr. Hardin. How did your search go with the tip you received?" Then the girl gasped when she saw me, "Mrs. Hardin! It's so good to see you. We thought we had lost you."

"Janey, as you can see Mrs. Hardin is fine. How did the girls do?"

"Mr. Hardin, they were both angels." Janey smiled a mischievous grin since the Alvans looked like human's perception of angels in their native form. Mr. Hardin paid Janey and she left to go to her own home across the street.

"Let's go inside and see the girls, Sweetheart."

"Of course, Greg."

We entered the house and went to the daughter's room. Greg spoke to them with me hiding behind Greg but I came out as he spoke to them.

"Girls, look who I found!"

Both Gail and Sally, the two girls to which I was now bound in servitude as their mother, came and wrapped me up in a big hug which Greg joined as well. We were joined as one family and I hoped that the lives, especially the girl's lives, would be happy ones. We broke the hug and then Greg spoke to his daughters.

"Gail and Sally, I have something to tell you. Let's sit down in the living room."

Both the girls answered, "Yes, Daddy."

We all sat down in the living room. Greg sat in the recliner facing the sofa and I sat on the sofa with Gail on one side and Sally on the other with the three of us holding hands.

"Girls, your Mother who was lost is now found. She is not as she was since her head was injured somehow. I took her to the hospital and a nice Dr Zha told me that your mother's head being hurt made her forget everything about us. Even though she sees us all now again, she does not know us. The Doctor felt like even though she doesn't remember us that being at home with us may help her regain her memory in our home. I've told her that her name is Celeste and a little about you two, Gail and Sally. Celeste has promised to be your mother and treat you as her very own girls, even though she does not remember you. We'll get back into the routine we had before and hopefully both that and being home will allow her to remember us. If she doesn't ever remember us, we will love her just like we did before she went away. I know that this makes it hard since so many questions on what happened to her will remain without an answer. We'll just have to do the best that we can together as a family. Girls, I'd like for you to play in the living room while I get your mother settled in our home."

"Yes, Daddy" both girls said and they got down from the couch and onto the living room carpet where was a doll house and dolls and various other things scattered on the floor used for their playing. Greg took me from room to room in the house and in each room I saw tasks that had been left undone that a mother would do. In the kitchen I saw a sink full of dirty dishes. Also I saw evidence that the girl's breakfasts had been cereal, their lunches sandwiches, and their dinners either frozen meals or take out food, by the evidence of all the things I saw left out on the counters. Greg gave me a running commentary on all the rooms of the house. Finally the tour was over and we stopped and Greg turned to me.

"Celeste, has seeing the house and the girls given you back any memories?"

"No Greg, It hasn't given me back anything at all. I am so sorry."

"Celeste it will all be alright in time. Let's not let setbacks get us down. Everything will be good in the end. I have a replica of the necklace that I gave to you on the day we first met. You never took it off before you left us and I hope that you will never take it off now. Please let me put it on you."

"Of course, Greg."

Greg put it on me and kissed me. I would have to ask Sela about the necklace later when I could talk telepathically to her out of Greg's presence. Even though Greg could not overhear my thoughts or Sela's, I did not want to forget myself talking to Sela while if he was observing close up. I observed that our tour was over as we stood in the basement.

"Thank you Greg for being so understanding. What shall I do now?"

"Celeste, take it easy and rest. Feel free to look in drawers and closets and cabinets all over over the house. There is one exception is the locked closet that I showed you when we were down in the basement. I would like neither you nor the girls to go in there looking. It has special things in it for my work which I need to be, where I can find them and not broken by accident. Only I have the key and I keep it locked. If you ever find it unlocked, Don't go in nor let the girls into it either. You can lock off the door to the basement from the upstairs and the back door and keep out of the basement until I can lock it again. Can you do that for me, Celeste?"

"Of course, Greg. Shall we begin giving the girls back some boundaries and rules again?"

"Celeste you are correct. The girls need rules and boundaries. I had neglected enforcing the rules that we had, when they had to deal with the loss of their mother. The girls behave well in most things but they have to be prompted to do their chores and I had never done that before. For now, let's wait to discuss it before we reintroduce any rules, boundaries or chores for the girls before restarting them. Is that alright for you, Celeste?"

"That is alright with me, Greg. I'll start exploring the house now. What will you be doing?"

"I'll go back to the living room to be with the girls. Happy exploring!"

Greg and I walked up from the basement where he had ended the tour. Greg turned to go to the living room while I turned to enter the kitchen. I realized that Greg telling me to explore was code for me to get to work. I knew that I would be expected to do all the mother's chores that had been left undone for six months by the looks of the house. The house would be a wonderful place once all the chores that had been put off were done. I was to be a stay at home mother caring for the house, the children, and Greg. When I finally finished all of the chores that had been put off, keeping the house clean and in order would be much easier taking care of chores as they arose instead of them accumulating again. I had been so absorbed into taking all this in that I had neglected to check in with Sela.

"~Hello, Sela. What do you make of things?~"

"~Celeste, you are in for a great bit of labor to get done, all that has been left undone. You'll have to do it all with earth technology, too. You have to keep cover even with Greg and the girls and they have not told you yet about their origins on Alvia.~"

"~Sela, We'll have to keep speaking telepathically. The walls are thin in this house even when we are alone, we might be overheard without even trying. Are there monitors that Greg can use to spy on the children and myself?~"

"~Every part of the house is monitored for sight and sound as well as other sensors monitoring the house systems. We will never be truly alone. Even the vehicles are monitored. The necklace that you are wearing is of Alvian origin and has monitoring equipment inside it. It is made so that once it is put on it becomes sealed so that it can never be taken off without using Alvian technology to unseal it.~"

"Greg, the little sneak, will be able to spy on me anywhere that I am. If Celeste had really been lost, instead of dying, Greg would have been able to track her where ever she went and now he will be able to do the same with me. It is a gilded cage but a cage nonetheless. I've been practicing how to act while talking to you, Sela and being observed. I won't be able to let my guard down since I will be observed all the time.~"

All this time I had been looking inside every cabinet and drawer and those things out in plain sight to familiarize myself with the kitchen's layout. I started with the girl's toys and I gathered them up and put them in a couple of tote bags. Next I took the clean dishes out of the dishwasher and put them away. With the dishwasher empty, I started putting the sink full of dishes into the dishwasher which filled it up and I started it washing. There was enough for another load spread over the counters and on the kitchen and dining room table. I gathered the remaining dishes up and placed them into the sink, which was filled up again. That gave me enough space on the two tables for me to clear all the counters. The counters were a mess with a coating of gunk. Removing the gunk took me several tries and use of a brand new bottle of cleaner which never had been opened. Once the counters were cleaned, I put back everything that belonged on it.

Next I tackled the tables. They were piled up with mostly empty frozen dinner trays and lots of wrappings and bags from fast food. When I glanced back at the living room, noticed most of the same among the toys in there. I guessed when there was no longer any room to eat in the kitchen and dining room that eating started happening in the living room. Having cleared the two tables, I started on the floor. It too had a quarter inch of gunk on it but I had removed all the trash and filled up a second trash bag. Another unopened bottle of floor cleaner was found in the cabinet under the sink. I cleaned the tile floor until it was spotless. Next I looked at the appliances. The dishwasher and the stove had not been used for 6 months and when I cleaned the counters. I had already wiped down the outside of the refrigerator and microwave. The Microwave had the same quarter inch of gunk but after several tries at cleaning it it was as spotless as all the other things that I had cleaned.

I was afraid to see the inside of the refrigerator. Fortunately it was frost free and the freezer was clean but bare except for a stack of frozen dinners. Before I looked inside the refrigerator, Greg checked in on me and I pointed out the 3 bags of garbage that I accumulated so far in the kitchen.

"Hi Celeste. I see you have started cleaning up in the Kitchen. I did the best I could but I don't cook except for microwavable items so frozen Dinners and fast food have been most of our suppers, sandwiches for most of our lunches and cereal for breakfasts. Is there anything I can do for you, besides cleaning? I am allergic to cleaning."

"Greg, I have three bags of trash already accumulated that need to be taken out. I'll have more but they are just in the way of my cleaning. I haven't looked at the refrigerator or the other rooms yet so I have a feeling that there will be more. The plus side is that before the backlog this was a wonderful Kitchen and it will be again."

"Celeste I'll get on that right now. Please listen in on the girls while i am outside. Is there anything else that you need?"

"Just from looking inside the food cabinets, there are a lot of sugary snacks and treats. We should just eat what we have and not buy any more. I can make healthy snacks and treats for everyone. Most of the time you all have not had a real balanced and unprocessed meals. We'll need to get healthy foods for me to prepare for your suppers and for me to prepare for your lunches. So all that means we will need to make a trip to the grocery store to stock up. I'll prepare a list for you to purchase only the things on the list. Do we have a utility cart that we can empty for us to use for the kitchen?."

"Celeste I'm glad that you suggested that. Even with refilling the pantry and refrigerator with nothing left, buying natural foods and not buying processed foods will save us money in the long run. Thank you. I will go to the grocery store and buy exactly what is on your list. There is already a utility cart in the pantry. I guess you haven't has a chance to check on it yet. I emptied the cabinets of all the cooking things that you used before you left. All the food is kept in the Kitchen cabinets now since it was easier for me to prepare food when I became a single father without going to the pantry. The Pantry has been locked up so the most you should see in there is some dust. I am reminded that I need to give you the house keys and the keys to your mini."

"Thank you, Greg. these keys will get me in everywhere except your closet?"

"Yes that is exactly right, Celeste. There are other places that are locked up including the guest room where you will be staying. The whole basement is kept locked and I have been at least been keeping up the cleaning in the basement. There are several rooms in the basement including the children's play room. That is why the girl's toys are found in every upstairs room. I'll go now and get the garbage you already have taken out and I'll be ready to get only what is on the list from the grocery store."

"thank you, Greg."

I cleaned out the refrigerator filling another trash bag that I had double bagged with most of the refrigerator contents being science experiments 6 months old. The only usable food was some milk, orange juice and condiments. The rest was garbage. I didn't wait for Greg to check on me again to suggest that the trash be taken out again. I took it out myself. There was a list of many other chores that I had do to clean the Kitchen. I have already revealed what the rest of the chores were like, both in the kitchen and in the rest of the house. It took me about a week to get the entire house cleaned as I worked on one room at a time.

I had time to start work on the guest room which I supposed would become where I was to sleep. I would not be sharing the master bedroom with Greg for a while, if even at all. Since it had been locked up the room was in good shape. It only needed dusting and and vacuuming to get it in shape. While I was doing the cleaning, Sela had been planning meal menus. She found out what items were needed to prepare the meals. We tried to keep our communication down so that we would not be discovered. Most of the time when we communicated telepathically it was in my locked bedroom or if there was something that Sela needed to tell me quickly. The next week after the cleanup had concluded and I had a chance to become familiar with my instant daughters.

Over time I found that I had formed a maternal bond with Gail and Sally. My knowledge of adopted families was not due to my Alban background where there were no adoption or surrogates to give a child to a family. There was no death from natural causes for adult Albans who had emerged since I had been told that they no longer required air, food and water to sustain them and instead were tapped into sustenance which was everlasting and plentiful. They left only to a different dimension after all their children had emerged and had settled into their emerged state. There was no crime on Alban Kai because there was no need for money since all were given everything that was needed to sustain themselves. Albans practiced professions where they earned luxuries. The reason that Alban Kai was xenophobic was because anything from outside would introduce all the things that would jeopardize our way of life and even our existence, so we hid behind a cloaking shield that was impenetrable.

Sela informed me about earth culture where it was possible for an adult or child to enter an existing family from outside it. Being adopted into a family as a adult or a child was beyond my understanding but I learned quickly the human virtue of love. Love made all things seem possible. Love took away all the barriers and united once separate elements into a cohesive whole. Love initiated my bond with my girls.

When love happened, my captivity and slavery ended. I know that with my new identity established that I was free to dissolve my bond to Greg's family through something called divorce. Greg and the children would no longer have any claim on me and I would be free to go my own way. With my superior Alban technological skills I could easily get work developing earth technology so I could earn all the money that I would need to exist in their economy. But i chose to stay part of my Alvian family on earth. There was deception on both sides which might cause future challenges but for the moment all was well.

I maintained the home cleaning and cooking, doing laundry and such. It was much easier to clean something when it happened instead of letting the work accumulate like it had before after Celeste left their home. I was concerned that Gail and Sally had no children their age and Limoxian to play with together. I would have to wait until Greg revealed to me that they were Alvian to actually give Gail and Sally playmates. First I had to see if such a search to determine the location and population of all the families who had Limoxian members. Scanning for the disguise devices that anyone who intended to go to a quarantined planet, even if they were okay and not be trapped on the Earth.

"~Sela, can you perform a scan of all the Limoxians on earth and the family members even if thy are human.~"

"Celeste, I can make that happen using a combination of science and magic. Science alone is unable to scan them since they are designed to be undetectable even by superior Limoxian technology. That is why the Limoxians had not been able to find each other before. I begin the scan now.~"

And Sela did find out who and where all the Limoxians families in the world. We even had a family of Limoxians in our neighbor hood about a block away who had two girls the same ages of Gail and Sally. I was pleased with myself that I had done so well with Sela's help in locating all the families who were so far from home. I was also pleased with the wholesome meals that I prepared for Greg and his daughters. Unbeknown to Greg, Sela planed meals that had all the elements that would be beneficial to Alvians. I was pleased that Greg and the girls were thriving.

The only downside was that I was stuck most of the time at home performing needed tasks, not because I was a slave but I did them out of love . I was able to go to the store to get things we had run out of in between shopping trips done by Greg. I was also able to go to the salon to get my hair and nails done. I was prepared for the next step where Greg would reveal that his family was Limoxian. I was attached by love to Greg and his daughters.

I wondered what would happen if my Mommy the queen and my Daddy her consort came to rescue me in her official transport. The name in Alban was mostly unpronounceable by humans but translated to Mother - Ship. That was humorous since the humans labeled any extraterrestrial ship which held more than 10 people to be a mothership. The one thing that I knew was that if they had found a way to correct the emergence and make me an adult Albian female I would no longer have the bland future that I had run away from fulfilling. As a female adult Albian, daughter of the Queen, I would be next in line to the throne when Mommie stepped down. With Alban Kai being very xenophobic, the Alvian family could never live on Alban Kai so I would be free of them. I would be The Princess.

Playing Marbles for the Big Blue

04 Angel Flight

By Jo Dora Webster

Will Celeste learn how to fly like an Alvian?

04 Angel Flight

I, Gail, and Sally had bonded as mother and daughters. I no longer thought of myself as a captured prisoner or slave. I stayed with the Hardins through human love even though my original body was not human. As a human woman my maternal instincts were fulfilled caring for my daughters. I also cared for their father Greg but that was only for my daughter's sake. 
Greg had lied to me and assumed that I was stupid since I had appeared to him as his neighbor Natalie. Greg used the amnesia that I presented then to facilitate giving his children a mother. He took advantage of a professed amnesiac on the pretense of protecting her from discovery.  
If the status quo maintained, I would never be a real wife to Greg. I really did not need Greg's help since being Natalie gave me a legal identity and together Sela and I could take care of ourselves. I would continue to be a Hardin only for the sake of the children.
I had not cared about the family dynamics of the Hardins when I first arrived with them. Greg continued to go to work, and the children continued going to elementary school and middle school. I was so bogged down in my own misery at having so much to clean up that I really did not know why they had left but just that they were gone.
When the home became well cared for and easily maintained. I discovered and kept up with their comings and goings. Greg's job as an episcopal priest was flexible enough at most times during the work week to be able to put the girls on the bus and be back to meet them when the bus returned. Eventually I took over those duties from Greg
.
About a month after I had become a Hardin and things had settled for us, Greg had me take the tests from all the professional certifications that the original Celeste had gotten. I aced them all which greatly surprised Greg who had just been testing to see if he should help me apply for reinstatement at the original Celeste's job which she telecommuted to in the hours when the girls were away at school.
"Celeste, How do you feel about contributing to our household financially even though you haven't recovered your memory yet?" 
"Our savings has not been growing for quite a while and I want our girls to have the means to get more education beyond high school. I'm formulating a plan for a business that I and the girls could run which could give us the savings for our girls."
"Can you tell me about the details of that business, Celeste?"
"I'm not sure that it is a fully formed idea yet. Let me noodle on it and get back to you, Greg."
"Celeste, you test out as maintaining the same certifications that you were qualified in before you left us. Please look at the work folder on your computer to familiarize yourself with the work you had been doing before. If you would like to do it again, I could help you apply for reinstatement."
"Greg, I will do that. I know that money has been tight while I was gone because of the loss of my income. I'll look at the Work folder to see if I feel able to do that work again." 
"Of course, Celeste. Please tell me what you want to do about getting reinstated after you have a chance to review those work files.""
"I will, Greg."
I of course agreed to and received the job reinstatement. It served my interests as well as the family's interests. If my situation with the Hardins became unbearable, I could easily divorce Greg and support myself by working that job or another like it full time. 
I did very well at work and the things that I didn't remember were covered by my amnesia. I was a very valuable employee so the things I could not remember about work-related things did not impact my employment.
I loved my new life as one of the Hardins. I continued to work on my secret business idea but could not present it yet because it used a fictionalized Limoxian Universe that I was supposed not to know. I suspected that eventually they would tell me about being Alvians so as to stop having to exclude me from that part of their lives.
More time passed and it had been six months since I had become a member of the Hardin household and a year since the original Celeste had died. Sela still kept the real me company as well as looking for other Limoxians.
I stood in the backyard, my heart racing with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. The warm afternoon sun cast long shadows across the grass as I watched Greg help Gail and Sally into their specially designed flight suits. The girls' eyes sparkled with anticipation, their small hands fidgeting with the unfamiliar fabric.
"Now remember," Greg said, his voice low and reassuring, "these suits will help protect you during flight. They're made of a special Alvian material that's both lightweight and durable."
I nodded, absorbing the information.. The concept of flight without any visible means of propulsion seemed impossible, yet here we were, preparing to defy gravity.

Greg turned to me, his expression softening. "Are you ready, sweetheart? I know this must be overwhelming for you."
I took a deep breath, steadying myself. "I think so. It's just... all so new. How exactly does this work?"
Greg smiled, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. "The flight capability is linked to the implants in our arms. It's Alvian technology, far beyond anything on Earth. When activated, it allows us to manipulate gravitational fields around our bodies."
As Greg explained the basics of Alvian flight techniques, I felt a strange tingling sensation in my arms. I glanced down, half-expecting to see something visible, but my skin looked unchanged.
"Will it hurt?" Sally asked, her small voice filled with a mix of worry and excitement.
"Not at all, sweetie," Greg assured her. "It might feel a little strange at first, like butterflies in your stomach, but it's completely safe."
Gail, ever the adventurous one, was practically bouncing with impatience. "Can we start now, Dad? Please?"
Greg chuckled, ruffling Gail's hair. "Almost. We just need to go over a few more safety precautions. Remember, we'll start low and slow. No showing off or trying any fancy maneuvers until you're comfortable with the basics."
As the family huddled together for their final preparations, I couldn't help but feel a surge of maternal protectiveness. Despite my being decieved about my own identity, the bond I felt with these girls was undeniable. Whatever challenges lay ahead in the sky, I was determined to face them together, as a family.
The family made their way to a secluded clearing on the outskirts of town, far from prying eyes. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the grass as Greg gathered everyone around him.
"Alright, everyone," Greg said, his voice a mix of excitement and caution. "It's time to show you how to activate your Alvian flight capabilities."

I watched intently, my heart racing with a mixture of anticipation and nervousness. Despite Greg's earlier explanation, the concept of flying without any visible means of propulsion still seemed impossible to me.

Greg stood in the center of the clearing, his arms relaxed at his sides. "The key is to focus on the implants in your arms. They're connected to your nervous system, so you can control them with your thoughts."

He closed his eyes for a moment, and suddenly, he began to rise off the ground. Gail and Sally gasped in delight, while Celeste's eyes widened in astonishment.

"It's all about intent," Greg continued, hovering a few feet above the grass. "Visualize yourself becoming lighter, almost weightless. The implants will respond to your desire to fly."

Gail, always the adventurous one, was the first to try. Her face scrunched up in concentration, and after a few seconds, she let out a squeal of joy as her feet left the ground.

"I'm doing it, Dad! I'm flying!" she exclaimed, wobbling slightly as she rose to join her father.
Sally, more cautious by nature, took a deep breath before attempting the feat. Her ascent was slower, but soon she too was airborne, giggling with delight.

I hesitated, unsure of my abilities. Greg floated down to my side, offering an encouraging smile. "You can do this, Celeste. Trust yourself."

Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and focused on the strange tingling sensation in my arms. I imagined myself becoming lighter, picturing my body rising effortlessly into the air. To my amazement, I felt the ground fall away beneath my feet.

As I opened my eyes, I found myself hovering alongside my family, a mix of exhilaration and disbelief coursing through my veins. The world looked different from up here, more expansive and fuller of possibility.
"Well done, everyone!" Greg beamed, looking proudly at his floating family. "Now, let's start with some basic maneuvers. Remember, slow and steady wins the race."

As they began to practice simple movements – forward, backward, up, and down – I couldn't help but marvel at the surreal nature of our situation. Here we were, a seemingly ordinary family, defying gravity as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

As the family hovered in the air, Greg's face beamed with pride. "Alright, everyone, you're doing great! Now, let's try moving around a bit."

I watched in awe as Greg demonstrated smooth, graceful movements through the air. He glided forward, then backward, ascending and descending with ease. The girls' eyes widened with excitement, eager to mimic their father's actions.

"Remember," Greg called out, "it's all about intention. Think about where you want to go, and your body will follow."

Gail, ever the daredevil, was the first to attempt movement. She shot forward with surprising speed, letting out a delighted squeal. "This is amazing, Dad!"

Sally, more cautious, moved slowly and deliberately. Her face was a mask of concentration as she navigated the air currents. "I feel like a bird," she said softly, a smile spreading across her face

I hesitated, still adjusting to the strange sensation of weightlessness. Greg floated over to me, offering an encouraging smile. "You're doing great, honey. Just take it slow."

Taking a deep breath, I focused on moving forward. To my surprise, my body responded instantly, gliding through the air with unexpected grace. The feeling was exhilarating, unlike anything I had ever experienced before.

As the family soared together, their laughter echoed across the clearing. Gail and Sally quickly gained confidence, chasing each other in playful aerial tag. Their natural aptitude for flying was evident, their movements becoming more fluid and instinctive with each passing moment.

I found myself relaxing into the experience, the initial fear giving way to a sense of freedom and joy. I watched my daughters with a mixture of pride and wonder, marveling at how quickly they had adapted to this extraordinary ability.

Greg flew alongside me, reaching out to take my hand. "How does it feel?" he asked, his eyes twinkling with delight.

"It's... incredible," I replied, my voice filled with awe. "I never imagined anything like this was possible."

As we soared higher, the world below seemed to shrink, offering a new perspective on their surroundings. The family flew in formation, reveling in our shared experience and the unique bond it created between us.

As the family soared through the air, reveling in their newfound ability to fly, Greg's expression grew serious. He glided closer to me, taking my hand gently.

"Celeste, there's something important I need to tell you," Greg said, his voice barely audible above the wind rushing past them. "It's about our family... about who we really are."

My heart raced, a mixture of excitement and apprehension coursing through my veins. I nodded, encouraging Greg to continue.

"We're not from Earth," Greg began, his eyes searching my face for any sign of recognition. "We're Alvians, beings from a planet called Alvia. Our appearance here on Earth is just a simulation, a way to blend in."

Gail and Sally, who had been chasing each other playfully, slowed their flight and moved closer to listen. Their young faces were a blend of curiosity and concern.

Greg continued, his voice steady but filled with emotion. "This ability to fly, it's not some newfound skill or technology. It's part of who we are as Alvians. The implants in our arms allow us to manipulate gravitational fields, just like we would on our home planet."

I listened intently, my mind reeling with this revelation. What Greg did not know is that with the aid of Sela I knew this already, the evidence was literally all around her as they hovered in mid-air.
"But Greg," I said, my voice trembling slightly, "if we're all Alvians, why don't I remember any of this?

Greg's expression softened, a hint of sadness creeping into his eyes. "Your memory loss... it's more extensive than we initially thought. You're one of us, Celeste. You've always been."
I looked down at my hands, half-expecting to see them change or reveal some alien characteristic. Greg was telling me the truth but not the whole truth.
"There's more," Greg added, his gaze shifting between I and the girls. "We came to Earth on a mission, but something went wrong. We've been stranded here, living as humans, waiting for a chance to return home."

The impact of Greg's words was hanging in the air between us. Gail and Sally exchanged glances, their young minds trying to process this new information about their identity.
My mind raced with questions. Those could wait until I had a chance to converse with Sela who was the only one who knew the whole truth.

As the family hovered in the air, the weight of Greg's revelation about their Alvian heritage hung heavily between them. My mind reeled with questions, but before I could voice them, Greg's expression grew even more serious.

"There's more you need to know, Celeste," Greg said, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's about your relationship with the girls."
I felt a chill run through my body, despite the warm air surrounding them. I glanced at Gail and Sally, who were watching their parents with wide, curious eyes.

Greg took a deep breath before continuing. "Celeste, you're not the girls' biological mother. Their real mother was an Alvian named Simosa. She... she died on Alvia before we came to Earth."

The words hit me like a physical blow. I felt as if the air had been sucked from my lungs, and for a moment, I forgot how to fly. Greg quickly steadied me, his hand gently gripping my arm.

"But... I remember..." I stammered, my mind frantically searching for memories that suddenly felt out of reach.
"I know this is difficult to hear," Greg said softly. "Your memories of being their mother are part of the simulation we've been living in on Earth. It was necessary for our cover, but the truth is, I married you shortly after Simosa's death."

Gail and Sally exchanged glances, their young faces a mixture of confusion and concern. "Dad," Gail spoke up, her voice trembling slightly, "is that why we sometimes have dreams about another mom?"

Greg nodded, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Yes, sweetheart. Those are memories of Simosa."

I felt as if my world was spinning out of control. The love I felt for these girls was real, visceral – I had grown to love them even after Greg had hijacked me from my life. I looked at Gail and Sally, searching their faces for any sign of rejection or resentment, but found only love and confusion mirroring myr own emotions. But I could not let Greg know that I already knew.
"I... I don't understand," I said, my voice barely audible. "If I'm not their mother, who am I? Why did you marry me?"

Greg's expression softened, filled with a mixture of guilt and affection. "You're still a crucial part of our family, Celeste. When Simosa died, I was lost. You helped me through that dark time, and we fell in love. We decided to embark on this mission together, as a family."

As the truth settled over them, the family remained suspended in the air, our newfound ability to fly now a stark reminder of the otherworldly nature of their existence. My mind raced with implications, trying to reconcile my deep love for these girls with the knowledge that I hadn't given birth to them.
"But why can't I remember any of this?" I asked, my voice trembling.
Greg's expression grew troubled. "The process of adapting to Earth, of taking on human forms and memories – it affected us all differently. Your memory loss was more extensive than we anticipated. We hoped that over time, living as a family here would help you recover those memories."
Gail and Sally exchanged glances, their young faces a mixture of curiosity and concern. "Is that why sometimes we have dreams about two different moms?" Gail asked hesitantly.
Greg nodded, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Yes, sweetheart. Your subconscious minds are holding onto memories of both Simosa and Celeste."
As the family hovered together, the weight of our shared history hung in the air between us. I felt a surge of conflicting emotions – love for these girls who weren't biologically mine, affection for Greg tinged with confusion, and a deep sense of loss for a life and memories I couldn't fully recall.

"I know this is a lot to take in," Greg said softly, squeezing my hand. "But I want you to know that regardless of how we came to be a family, the love we share is real. We've built a life here together, and you've been an amazing mother to Gail and Sally."
I nodded. My heart was full of emotions I couldn't quite name. As we floated in the air, our Alvian nature now fully revealed, I realized that our journey as a family was far from over. There were still mysteries to unravel, memories to recover, and a future to shape – together.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm golden glow across the sky, Greg guided the family back to the ground. We landed softly in the same secluded clearing where our extraordinary flight had begun, the grass swaying gently beneath our feet.
I took a deep breath, my mind still reeling from the revelations Greg had shared during our time in the air. I watched as Gail and Sally touched down, their faces a mixture of excitement from the flight and confusion from the truths they'd learned.
Greg gathered the family close, his eyes scanning our faces with a mixture of love and concern. "I know this has been a lot to take in," he said softly. "How are you all feeling?"
Gail, ever the outspoken one, was the first to respond. "It's... weird, Dad. But also kind of cool? I mean, we can fly!" Her enthusiasm was tempered by a hint of uncertainty in her voice.
Sally, more reserved, simply nodded and moved closer to me, seeking comfort in my embrace. I wrapped an arm around the young girl, feeling a surge of maternal love despite the knowledge that I wasn't their biological mother.
"And you, Celeste?" Greg asked, his gaze meeting mine with a mix of hope and apprehension.
I paused, carefully considering my words. "It's overwhelming," I admitted. "But... it also feels right, somehow. Like pieces of a puzzle falling into place."
I glanced down at my arms, where the implants lay hidden beneath my skin. "I still have so many questions, but I'm grateful for the truth."
Greg nodded, relief evident in his expression. "We'll take this one step at a time," he assured us. "Our family may not be conventional by Earth standards, but our love for each other is real."
As we stood together in the fading light, I observed the girls' reactions. Gail seemed energized by the revelations, her mind clearly racing with the possibilities their Alvian heritage presented.
Sally, on the other hand, appeared more contemplative, processing the information in her own quiet way.
I felt a complex mix of emotions wash over me. There was a sense of loss for the memories I couldn't recall, but also a growing acceptance of my place within this extraordinary family. The love I felt for Greg and the girls was undeniable, transcending the boundaries of biology and origin.
As we prepared to head home, I realized that while our flight had come to an end, our journey as a family was far from over. There would be challenges ahead, but facing them together, with our newfound truth as a foundation, felt like the beginning of something remarkable.
Greg was the first to break the silence. "I know this has been a lot to take in," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "How about we head home and talk more over some hot chocolate?"
Gail's eyes lit up at the mention of her favorite treat. "Can we have marshmallows too, Dad?"
Greg chuckled, grateful for the moment of normalcy amidst the chaos. "Of course, sweetheart. Extra marshmallows for everyone."
As we walked back to our house, Sally slipped her hand into mine. Despite the knowledge that I wasn't her biological mother, the bond between us stronger than ever. I squeezed Sally's hand, a wordless reassurance that nothing had changed in my love for the girls.
Once inside, Greg busied himself in the kitchen while I helped the girls out of their flight suits. The familiar routine of hanging up coats and removing shoes felt surreal after our airborne adventure.
In the cozy living room, we gathered around the coffee table, steaming mugs of hot chocolate in hand. Greg had indeed been generous with the marshmallows, and Gail was already sporting a frothy mustache.
"So," Greg began, his tone serious but kind, "do you have any questions about what we talked about today?"
Gail and Sally exchanged glances before Sally spoke up. "Dad, if we're really aliens, why do we look human?"
Greg nodded, appreciating the directness of the question. "It's part of our Alvian technology. We have the ability to blend in with the inhabitants of other planets. It's how we've been able to live here on Earth without detection."
I listened intently, still processing my own role in this complex family dynamic. I may not have been their biological mother, but the love I felt for these girls was undeniable.

As the conversation flowed, touching on our Alvian heritage, our life on Earth, and our uncertain future, a sense of unity settled over the family. We may have been from another world, living under assumed identities, but in this moment, we were simply a family, bound by love and shared experiences.
The evening wound down, and as Greg tucked the girls into bed, I stood in the doorway, watching. I may not have given birth to them, but I was their mother in every way that mattered. As I kissed them goodnight, I silently vowed to protect and love them, no matter what challenges our extraordinary life might bring.
No matter why Greg revealed this much of the truth for me, I had hope that later on Greg would reveal the whole truth. Till then I would share with the only one I completely trusted, Sela.

Playing Marbles for the Big Blue

05 Abducted by Helmagians

By Jo Dora Webster

Will Celeste foil the Helmagians seeking to abduct her daughters?

05 Abducted by Helmagians

I felt a chill run down my spine as I noticed the group of strangers eyeing us intently. What had started as a simple shopping trip with Greg and the girls had suddenly taken a sinister turn.

"Sela," I thought, reaching out to my AI companion through our telepathic link, "are you detecting anything unusual?"

"Caution, Celeste," Sela's voice echoed in my mind. "I'm picking up Helmagian energy signatures. They appear to be using Alvian detection devices."

My heart raced as I tried to maintain a calm exterior. I glanced at Greg, seeing the tension in his shoulders. He must have sensed it too.

"Girls," I whispered urgently, "stay close to us."

But it was already too late. The Helmagians were moving towards us, their eyes gleaming with a mix of triumph and malice.

"Well, well," one of them sneered, "if it isn't the son of the Alvian leader and his precious family."

I instinctively moved closer to Sally and Gail, my mind racing. How had they detected us? Our disguises had never failed before.

"Sela," I thought frantically, "can you interfere with their detection devices?"

"Negative, Celeste," Sela replied. "Their technology is shielded against such interference. We are exposed."

Greg attempted to bluff, but the cold smile on the Helmagian's face told me it was futile.

"Oh, we're not mistaken, Greg Hardin," he spat the name like a curse. "Or should I say, son of the current elected Alvian leader?"

Memories of the past Alvian spy incident flashed through my mind. The kidnapping of the Helmagian leader's grandchildren, the political fallout, the increased tensions between our peoples. And now, here we were, about to pay the price for those past actions.

I could feel Sally and Gail trembling behind me, and I silently cursed our carelessness. We should never have let our guard down, even for a moment.

"What do you want?" Greg asked, his voice steady despite the tension I could see in his eyes.

The Helmagian's eyes narrowed. "Justice," he hissed. "An eye for an eye, as you Earthlings say."

In that moment, I knew exactly what they were planning, and a cold dread settled in my stomach. They were going to take the girls, just as Alvian spies had taken their leader's grandchildren years ago.

"Sela," I thought desperately, "we need options. Now."

"Analyzing potential escape routes," Sela responded. "But our options are limited. The Helmagians have us surrounded, and we're in a public space. Any overt action could endanger civilians."

As the Helmagians closed in, I steeled myself for what was to come. I may not be the girls' biological mother, but in this moment, I felt every bit the protective parent. Whatever happened, I would do everything in my power to keep them safe.

The tension in the air was palpable as we made our swift escape. With each step, I could feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins, my senses heightened and alert for any sign of pursuit. Greg's hand found mine, squeezing it reassuringly as we guided the girls through the crowded streets.

Despite the chaos of our retreat, I couldn't help but marvel at the strength of the bond I felt with this family—a connection that transcended biology and spoke to something deeper within me. As we rounded a corner and ducked into a quieter alley, I allowed myself a moment to catch my breath, the reality of our narrow escape finally beginning to sink in.

I felt my heart racing as the Helmagians discussed their plan, their voices low but filled with malice. Sela's voice echoed in my mind, providing a constant stream of information.

"Celeste, they're planning to kidnap Gail and Sally," Sela warned. "It seems they're seeking revenge for a past incident involving Alvian spies and their leader's grandchildren.

"I struggled to maintain my composure, acutely aware of Greg's tension beside me. The girls, oblivious to the danger, were examining a display of colorful toys nearby. I yearned to rush to them, to shield them from the threat looming over us, but I knew any sudden movement could provoke the Helmagians.

"Sela," I thought, careful to keep my face neutral, "what options do we have?"

"Limited, I'm afraid," Sela replied. "The store is crowded, and any overt action could endanger civilians. However, I've identified a potential exit route through the back of the store. If we can create a distraction, we might be able to slip away unnoticed."

I glanced at Greg, wishing I could communicate Sela's plan to him. But our silent communication was interrupted by one of the Helmagians stepping forward, his eyes fixed on Greg
."Son of the Alvian leader," he sneered, his voice barely above a whisper. "How fortunate for us to stumble upon such... valuable prizes."

Greg's jaw clenched, but he remained silent. I could see the calculations running behind his eyes, trying to find a way out of this situation without endangering the girls or the humans around us.

Suddenly, an idea struck me. "Sela," I thought urgently, "can you interface with the store's systems? Maybe trigger a false alarm?"

"Excellent idea, Celeste," Sela responded. "Initiating now."

As if on cue, the store's fire alarm blared to life, startling everyone in the vicinity. In the ensuing chaos, I grabbed Sally while Greg scooped up Gail. We pushed through the crowd, heading for the exit Sela had identified.

As we burst into the alley behind the store, I couldn't help but think of our Ceti Alphan and Silurian friends, the extraterrestrial families we had befriended. I wondered if Gail Sands, or Glivney Athos as she was known on Ceti Alpha, had ever faced such danger. Her calm demeanor in stressful situations suddenly made more sense.

We ran, our feet pounding the pavement as we put distance between ourselves and the Helmagians. I could hear their shouts of frustration fading behind us, but I knew this was far from over. They had discovered our presence on Earth, and they wouldn't give up easily.

As we turned a corner, I held Sally close, my heart heavy with the knowledge that our peaceful life on Earth was about to change dramatically.

We hurried away from the store, my heart was still racing from our close encounter with the Helmagians. Greg's face was etched with worry, and I could feel the girls' fear radiating off them in waves.

"Sela," I thought, reaching out to my AI companion, "we need to regroup and figure out our next move."

"Agreed, Celeste," Sela responded in my mind. "I suggest we contact the Ceti Alphan and Silurian families immediately. They might have valuable insights or resources to help us."

I nodded, catching Greg's eye. "We should reach out to our friends," I said aloud. "The Ceti Alphan and Silurian families might be able to help us."

Greg's expression softened slightly, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "You're right. We're not alone in this."

We made our way to a secluded spot, and I used our secure communication device to contact our Earth allies. As we waited for their response, I couldn't help but feel a mix of gratitude and anxiety. These families had become our lifeline, our connection to this world we'd been stranded on.

When we finally connected with them, the flood of relief was palpable. We quickly explained our situation, the close call with the Helmagians, and our fears for the girls' safety.

"Sela," I thought as we talked, "can you scan for any Helmagian presence nearby?"

"Scanning now, Celeste," Sela replied. "No immediate threats detected, but we should remain cautious."

As we shared updates with our Earth allies, I felt a renewed sense of purpose. We weren't just hiding anymore; we were actively working towards a solution. The Ceti Alphan and Silurian families offered their support, suggesting safe houses and potential strategies for evading the Helmagians.

Greg then brought up the upcoming rescue mission, explaining our plans to locate and help other stranded Limoxians. Our allies listened intently, offering their assistance in any way they could.

As we discussed the complexities of our situation, I couldn't help but marvel at the bonds we'd formed on this planet. These humans, who had no stake in interplanetary conflicts, were willing to risk so much to help us. It was a testament to the compassion and resilience of Earth's people.

"We're stronger together," I said, squeezing Greg's hand and looking at the girls. "With our friends' help, we'll find a way through this."

As we ended the call, I felt a renewed sense of hope. Despite the dangers we faced, we weren't alone. We had allies, both on Earth and beyond, and together, we would find a way to keep our family safe and return home.

We drove in our minivan to meet with the Ceti Alphan and Silurian families. Our understanding was that in the worst-case scenario they might hide us in their space pod which was the only thing that had survived from their crashed shuttlecraft. Although on the outside it took up the space of a closet, it had on its dimensionally transcendental inside plenty of rooms available to host us.

As we approached the group of Ceti Alphan and Silurian families, I felt a mix of anticipation and nervousness. These were people who understood our unique situation, who lived with the same daily fear of discovery that we did. I reached out telepathically to Sela, seeking reassurance.

"Sela, what can you tell me about these families?" I asked silently.

"They are like you, Celeste," Sela responded. "Extraterrestrial beings stranded on Earth, trying to maintain their cover while longing for home."

A woman stepped forward from the group, her human disguise flawless. I recognized her as Gail Sands, though Sela informed me that her true Ceti Alphan name was Glivney Athos.

"Greg, Celeste, it's wonderful to see you both," Glivney said warmly, embracing us in turn. Her touch was comforting, a reminder that we weren't alone in our struggles.

As we exchanged greetings with the other families, I felt a surge of emotion. These people had formed a tight-knit community here on Earth, supporting each other and keeping each other's secrets. It was a stark reminder of how isolated our own family had become.

"Why haven't we been in closer contact with these families before?" I asked Sela silently.

"Greg has been cautious about maintaining too many connections," Sela explained. "But recent events have made him realize the importance of community support."

We moved inside the space pod, and I listened intently as the families' shared updates on their situations. The air was thick with a mixture of hope and anxiety. For many, the prospect of returning home was both thrilling and terrifying after so many years on Earth.

I found myself drawn into conversations about the challenges of maintaining our cover, the difficulties of raising children who straddled two worlds, and the constant fear of discovery. Despite my initial reservations, I felt a sense of belonging among these people that I hadn't experienced before.

As the meeting progressed, I realized that this gathering was about more than just sharing information. It was about reaffirming our bonds, supporting each other through the uncertain times ahead, and preparing for a future that might take us far from the lives we'd built on Earth.

Glivney approached me during a lull in the conversations. "Celeste, how are you holding up?" she asked, her eyes filled with understanding.

I hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. "It's... challenging," I admitted. "Balancing our true selves with our Earth identities, always looking over our shoulders. But being here, with all of you, it helps."

She nodded, placing a comforting hand on my arm. "We're all in this together. Remember that, whenever things get tough."

As I looked around the room at these extraordinary beings disguised as ordinary humans, I felt a renewed sense of purpose. We were more than just stranded aliens; we were a community, bound by shared experiences and the hope of one day returning home.

But I immediately panicked because two Helmagians decloaked behind my daughters. After the Helmagians grabbed them, both Gail and Sally disappeared along with the Helmagians as I looked on in horror. Despite our best effort to protect my daughters, the Helmagians had abducted them.

Playing Marbles for the Big Blue

06 Rescue My Daughters

By Jo Dora Webster

Will Celeste rescue her daughters from the Helmagians who abducted her daughters?

06 Rescue My Daughters

Understanding that the Space Pod was not a safe haven against the Helmagians, Greg and I prepared to leave. Through our telepathic link, I reached out to Sela, my faithful AI companion who had become so much more.

"Sela, can you track them?" I asked silently, my heart pounding against my chest.

"Yes, Celeste. Their armbands are still active. I'm monitoring their location in real-time," Sela responded, her presence a calming force in my mind. "The Helmagians are taking them to a facility approximately 12 kilometers northeast of our current position."

Glivney plead, "Celeste, you and Greg don't have to go now. Our sensors found the deficiency in our shielding. We can make it better. We're stronger together. Ya know."

Greg asked, "Can you send me the shielding specifications? We need to make our home safe, so that when we get our daughters back that we can keep them safe going forward."

Glivney answered, "Of course." She took a memory card out of her scanner and handed it to Greg. She continued, "The Helmagians are a threat to us as well. We'll do whatever you request. When they are finished with you, they may come for us."

I gave Glivney a hug and held her hand as I told her, "Let us go home and find out just what we are up against and how many. If they think we have had a falling out, their attention will be focused on us and you all will be able to surprise them. We'll be in touch. Cross circuit to EC on the communicator.
"
"Be safe, you two. Take back your daughters!" Glivney told us as we left to get into the minivan.

Sela reported, "When they entered the facility, I lost the signal. I'm so sorry Celeste."

"Thank you for trying, Sela." I telepathically sent hoping to comfort Sela.

We drove home in silence with each of us grieving the loss of our daughters. Greg revealed to me the entrance to a secret room in our home. I was aware of the obvious Alvian styling in the secret control room.

"Greg, what can we do?"

"I don't know now, Celeste, but we'll come up with something. We have to get them back."

I stood in the dimly lit control room, my heart pounding as I reached out to Sela through our telepathic link.

"Sela, I need you to infiltrate the Helmagians' network. We must know what they are planning," I instructed, my voice steady despite the storm of anxiety within me.

"Understood, Celeste," Sela replied, her tone calm and precise. I watched as the faint glow of her interface activated, a testament to her unparalleled capabilities. Moments later, her voice echoed in my mind.

"I have accessed their communications. They are convening in the lower chambers."

"Sela, change the resonance on the children's trackers so that I can pick up their location before you leave them."

"Celeste, I have found a defect in their shielding. I can change the resonance on their tracker signal to take advantage of that defect on your command."

Through Sela's eyes, I saw the Helmagians gathered around a holographic display. Their leader, a towering figure with crimson eyes, spoke with a venomous edge. "We will strike where it hurts the most. The Alvian leader's grandchildren will pay for the sins of their ancestors. Our technology can now penetrate their defenses."

A chill ran down my spine. "Sela, transmit this to me immediately," I urged.

Within seconds, the data streamed into my consciousness. The Helmagians' plans were more advanced and dangerous than I had feared. Minutes felt like hours as I waited, trying to maintain a calm facade for Greg's sake.

Suddenly, Sela's voice returned, urgent and filled with concern. "Celeste, I've uncovered their true intentions. The kidnapping is just the beginning."

I listened intently as Sela relayed the Helmagians' plans. They weren't content with simply abducting the girls; they aimed to strike at the heart of Alvian society. The Helmagians had developed technology capable of penetrating our defenses, planning to use it to breach our sanctuary and expose our presence on Earth.

"They intend to use Gail and Sally as bait," Sela continued. "Once Greg attempts a rescue, they'll track him back to our hideout and launch a full-scale attack. Their ultimate goal is to force a confrontation between Alvians and humans, revealing our existence to Earth's governments."

My heart raced as I processed this information. The stakes were higher than we'd imagined. Not only were our children in danger, but our entire way of life on Earth was threatened.

A chill ran down my spine. "Sela, transmit this to me immediately on the locator's resonance locked into their shielding defect" I urged. Within seconds, the data streamed into my consciousness. The Helmagians' plans were more advanced and dangerous than I had feared.

But then, a sudden shift in their demeanor caught my attention. One of the Helmagians, a wiry figure with sharp features, glanced around suspiciously. "We are being watched," he hissed. The room erupted into chaos as they scrambled to secure their systems.

"Celeste, they have detected my presence. They are altering their plans," Sela informed me, her voice tinged with urgency. I clenched my fists, knowing the window of opportunity was closing. "Extract yourself, Sela. We have what we need."

As Sela disengaged, I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the battle ahead. The Helmagians were formidable, but with Sela's intelligence, we had a fighting chance.

Frustration and fear battled within me. We'd gained vital intelligence, but at the cost of losing our advantage of surprise. Now, we were back to square one, facing an enemy who knew we were onto them and would be even more cautious.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what was to come. We'd have to be smarter, faster, and more resourceful than ever to outmaneuver the Helmagians and bring our girls home safely.
"Greg," I called out, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "We need to talk. Things just got a lot more complicated."

I turned to Greg, who stood frozen in place, his face a mask of anguish. "Greg, we need to act fast. My band - it can help us find them. I've got their signal!"

His eyes widened with recognition. "You're right. But there's something you need to know first."

"What is that, Greg?" I asked in amazement that Greg would pick this time for confession.

"Your band's, the spyband's capabilities are more extensive than I've let on. It's not just Alvian technology; it's specifically designed for covert operations."

Through Sela's silent assistance, I could already see the complex network of Helmagian security measures surrounding their hideout. Their technology was impressive, but they hadn't counted on the unique combination of Alvian engineering and Sela's enhanced capabilities.

"I can help track them," I said, carefully maintaining the pretense that it was the spyband's abilities rather than Sela's intervention. "Their armbands are giving off a signal that I can follow."

In reality, Sela was already formulating a rescue plan, analyzing every possible entry point and security weakness. Together, we would bring my daughters home, even if I wasn't their biological mother. Some bonds transcend blood, and my love for them was as real as any parent's could be.

I watched Greg's face intently as he made the difficult decision to reveal the truth about the spyband. The weight of our current crisis with the girls' kidnapping had forced his hand. Through my telepathic link with Sela, I could sense her processing the complex layers of truth about to unfold.

"Celeste," Greg began, his voice heavy with resignation, "I need to tell you something about who you really are."

He reached for my wrist, where the spyband lay disguised. "You're not who you think you are. Your real name is Natalie."

I maintained my composure, though inside I felt Sela's reassuring presence steadying my thoughts. Greg explained how I had once been married to a Golram spy, who had given me a spyband similar to his own. The band had saved my life after the Golram's violent attack, though it couldn't restore my memories.

"I found you and used Alvian technology to change your appearance to match Celeste's," Greg continued. "The original Celeste, my wife, died six months ago. I used the band to hide you from the Golram and protect you."

Through our private connection, Sela confirmed the truth of his words now at last. Thanks to Sela, I already knew this but was faking amnesia. The spyband's capabilities had allowed me to fly, to appear Alvian, to become the mother these girls needed.

"I'm giving you access to the spyband's full capabilities now," Greg said, inputting a new code. "We'll need everything at our disposal to rescue the girls."

I watched Greg input the new code into my spyband, though I knew through Sela that this was merely a formality. The weight of his revelation about my true identity still hung in the air between us.

"The spyband's full capabilities are now yours," Greg said, his voice heavy with both trust and desperation. "It will help us track and rescue the girls."

Through my connection with Sela, I could already sense the complex network of security measures the Helmagians had in place. Their technology was impressive, but they hadn't anticipated the unique combination of Alvian engineering and Sela's enhanced capabilities.

"I can sense them," I said carefully, maintaining the pretense that it was the spyband's abilities rather than Sela's intervention. "The girls' armbands are giving off a faint signal."

In reality, Sela was already mapping multiple entry points and analyzing security weaknesses. "The Helmagians have implemented a three-layer defense system," Sela communicated silently to me. "But there's a vulnerability in their eastern perimeter."

I felt a surge of determination. These girls might not be my biological children, but the maternal bond I felt was real. Whether I was Natalie or Celeste didn't matter – what mattered was bringing them home safely.

"Greg," I said, turning to face him, "I know how we can get them back. The spyband is showing me a way in through their defenses." I didn't mention that it was actually Sela's advanced capabilities guiding us. Some secrets were better kept, even from allies.

Together, we began formulating our rescue plan, while Sela continued to gather intelligence on the Helmagian compound. Time was of the essence, and failure wasn't an option.

As darkness fell, we put our plan into motion. My heart raced as we approached the compound's perimeter, staying low and moving between shadows. Sela's constant stream of data guided each careful step, identifying blind spots in their security grid. The spyband hummed silently against my skin, its power merging seamlessly with Sela's capabilities.

Greg moved beside me, his years of training evident in his fluid motions. After twenty tense minutes of methodical advancement, we reached the outer wall. The moment had come to infiltrate their stronghold and bring our daughters back to us. We flew over the wall through the sensor blind spot that Sela had detected.

Through Sela's guidance, we moved silently through the Helmagian compound. The spyband's capabilities (or rather, Sela's advanced interface with it) allowed us to navigate past their security measures with surprising ease.

"The girls are being held in a containment cell two levels below," Sela communicated silently in my mind. "I've detected a weakness in their eastern security grid."

Greg moved beside me, his face tense with determination. I knew he believed the spyband was guiding us, and I maintained that illusion. In truth, Sela's abilities far surpassed anything the Alvian technology could achieve on its own.

"They're moving the girls," I whispered to Greg, as Sela fed me real-time information. "We need to hurry."

We descended through darkened corridors, our movements precise and calculated. The Helmagian technology hummed around us, their revenge plot against Greg's family - against our family - now clear. They wanted to hurt the Alvian leader through his grandchildren, just as they believed their leader had been hurt years ago.

Through Sela's eyes, I could see Gail and Sally huddled together in their cell, frightened but unharmed. My heart ached at their fear, and I felt a surge of maternal protectiveness that had nothing to do with biology or false memories.

"Three guards approaching from the north corridor," Sela warned silently.

I touched Greg's arm, signaling him to stop. We pressed ourselves against the wall, waiting as the guards passed. The moment they were gone, we moved swiftly toward the containment area.

Finally, we stood at the door of our daughter's cell. Sela unlocked it and Gail ran into Greg's arms, and he carried her. Sally jumped up into my arms and I carried her too. Greg and I made a hasty retreat guided by the information that Sela continued to give me.

The girls' cries of joy filled the corridor as we made our escape from the Helmagian compound. My heart raced as I maintained telepathic contact with Sela, ensuring our path remained clear. Greg led the way, his protective instincts on full display as he guided us through the shadows.

"Two guards approaching from the eastern corridor," Sela warned silently in my mind. "Take the next right turn."

I gently nudged Greg's arm, directing him toward the alternate route. The spyband on my wrist hummed quietly, maintaining our disguise capabilities. Through Sela's enhanced perception, I could monitor the Helmagians' movements throughout the facility, their confusion growing as they discovered their prisoners had vanished.

"Mom!" Sally whispered, clinging to my hand. The word sent a complex wave of emotions through me. I might not be their biological mother, might not even be the Celeste they first knew, but in this moment, protecting these children felt like the most natural thing in the world.

"Almost there," I murmured, both to the girls and to Greg. Sela's guidance had led us to a maintenance exit, far from the main security checkpoints. The cool night air beckoned through the partially open door.

As we emerged into the darkness, I felt the weight of our deception - both mine and Greg's - pressing against my conscience. Yet watching him embrace his daughters, seeing their tears of relief, I knew that sometimes the truth was more complex than simple facts. Through Sela's silent presence in my mind, I understood that family wasn't always about blood or birth - sometimes it was about the choices we make and the love we choose to give.

"Let's go home," I said softly, keeping my senses attuned to any pursuit through my connection with Sela. Whatever came next, we would face it together.

We quickly entered the minivan and sped away. I used the spyband and some skillful driving by Greg so that we were untraceable by the time we reached our destination.

Back at home, I watched Greg embrace the girls, their tears of relief mingling as they clung to each other. Through my connection with Sela, I monitored the surrounding area for any sign of Helmagian pursuit, but we seemed to have escaped cleanly.

"You're safe now," I whispered, my heart aching with a love that felt no less real for being built on artificial memories. The spyband on my wrist hummed quietly, maintaining our protective disguises.

Greg looked up at me, his eyes filled with gratitude and something deeper - perhaps guilt for the layers of deception between us. Through Sela's enhanced perception, I could sense the complex emotions radiating from him. He knew I wasn't his Celeste, wasn't even truly Alvian, yet here I stood, having risked everything to save his children.

"Thank you," he said simply, extending his hand to include me in the family embrace.

The girls wrapped their arms around me, their small bodies still trembling slightly from the ordeal. "Mom," Sally whispered, and despite knowing I wasn't their biological mother, wasn't even the Celeste they'd first known, my heart swelled with maternal love.

As we held each other in that moment of safety and relief, I knew that whatever came next - whether facing more Helmagian threats or eventually returning to Alvia - we would face it together, as the family we had chosen to become. I wondered after Greg had revealed the deception of my identity, would he refer to me as Celeste or Natalie?

Playing Marbles for the Big Blue

07 Paint Ball Universe

By Jo Dora Webster

Will Celeste sell Greg on her income idea portraying the Limoxian universe as fantasy?

07 Paint Ball Universe

I sat across from Greg at our kitchen table, watching his face light up as I shared my idea. After the recent ordeal with the Helmagians, we needed something to help us blend in better on Earth - and generate some extra income.

"A paintball business," I explained, while Sela silently processed data about Earth's recreational activities in my mind. "But not just any paintball - we could create something unique, something that draws on your knowledge of other worlds."

Through my connection with Sela, I carefully measured my words, ensuring I didn't reveal too much about my enhanced understanding of Limoxian worlds. "We could model the battlefield after Siluria," I suggested, remembering the details Greg had shared about the wild planet where technology couldn't exist.

Greg leaned forward, his eyes sparking with interest. "That's... actually brilliant," he said. "We could design the arena to replicate Siluria's terrain. The whole concept of a planet where technology doesn't work would explain why players need to use basic weapons and equipment."

"And we could organize teams of four," I added, while Sela silently calculated optimal group dynamics. "Each team could represent different species from your... stories." I kept my tone casual, maintaining the pretense that I only knew what Greg had told me about Limoxian species.

Through our telepathic link, Sela began generating designs for protective gear that would look like spacesuits while meeting Earth safety standards. I watched Greg's enthusiasm grow as we discussed the possibilities, knowing that this venture would serve multiple purposes - providing income, helping us blend in, and allowing Greg and the girls to maintain a connection to their true heritage while hiding in plain sight.

It became a family project with Greg and the girls gathered at our dining room table. The table's surface was covered entirely of unrolled paper upon which they were drawing a map of our battle zone.

I watched as Greg and the girls worked together to design our battle zone, their enthusiasm infectious as they sketched out terrain features that would mirror Siluria's wild landscape. Through my telepathic link with Sela, I could analyze their ideas and suggest subtle improvements that would enhance both safety and playability.

"What if we created elevated platforms here?" I suggested, pointing to a spot on their rough diagram. "It would give teams strategic positions while maintaining the otherworldly feel." In truth, Sela had calculated the optimal placement for such features, but I carefully presented them as simple intuition.

The girls were particularly excited about designing the team bases, each one themed after different Limoxian species. Sally's eyes lit up as she described how we could incorporate natural barriers and obstacles that would make sense on a planet where technology couldn't function.

"Mom," Gail called out, still using the title that touched my heart despite knowing the truth about my identity, "what if we made the bases look like ancient ruins? That would explain why they're here without breaking the no-technology rule."

Through Sela's silent guidance, I helped them refine their ideas into something both practical and magical. We mapped out zones that would challenge players while maintaining safety, creating a layout that would feel alien yet familiar enough for Earth-bound customers to navigate.

As I watched Greg explain to the girls how Siluria's strange properties would justify our low-tech approach to the game, I felt a deep appreciation for how this venture would help us blend in while staying true to our extraordinary reality. The paintball arena would be more than just a business - it would be a bridge between our hidden truth and our public facade.

A business grant, city property given to us for one dollar, and a superb contractor came together to make the kitchen table designs into reality. Our "Mission Center" would include every way we could imagine bringing maximum profit from our concept. Our mission center was still under construction, but our battle ground was fully completed. We also had completed the prototype equipment need for a customer to safely play paint ball. We invited a group of play testers, and today was the day that we had our first reveal of our creation for actual play.

I stood in front of our newly assembled team of test players, watching their reactions as Greg explained the concept of our four-person squad system. Through my connection with Sela, I monitored their vital signs and engagement levels, ensuring our presentation hit the right notes.

"Each team will represent a different species from Earth legends," I explained, gesturing to the display of masks we'd created. "When you put on these masks, you're not just playing paintball - you're becoming part of an intergalactic conflict."

The prototype masks lay before us, each one carefully designed to evoke familiar Earth mythology while secretly drawing from real Limoxian species. Through Sela's guidance, we'd managed to create designs that would seem fantastical yet believable to Earth customers.

"The bases will be themed accordingly," Greg added, pointing to them on the battlefield. "Each team will defend their flag while trying to capture others."

I demonstrated how the protective gear worked, showing off the kevlar and spandex blend suits we'd designed to look like authentic space armor. The full-body padding underneath provided extra protection while maintaining the illusion of alien technology.

"These aren't just regular paintball guns," I said, lifting one of our modified weapons. In truth, Sela had helped me redesign them to appear more advanced while remaining completely mechanical - perfect for our Silurian theme where technology couldn't function.

As our test group suited up, their excitement was palpable. They weren't just playing paintball; they were becoming part of something larger, even if they didn't realize how close to reality our "fantasy" concept was truly.

Our players showed anticipation on their faces. They have signed up for a complete test, so now we launched in to our programed speech which would occur before we opened the battleground for play.

"Welcome to our Silurian Battleground," I began, gesturing to the intricate map behind me. "You're not just playing paintball today. You're stepping into a world where technology doesn't function, and only your wits and skills will keep you alive."

I watched their eyes widen as I explained the team formations. "You'll be divided into groups of four, each representing a different species from Earth legends." As I spoke, I held up the first of our custom-designed masks. "When you don this mask, you're not just hiding your face. You're becoming part of an intergalactic conflict."

Greg stepped forward, adding his expertise to the briefing. "Each team will have a base to defend, complete with a flag. Your objective is to protect your flag while capturing those of your opponents."

As I described the various objectives and battle scenarios we'd designed, I could feel Sela processing the team's reactions, helping me adjust my presentation for maximum impact. The masks before us, secretly inspired by real Limoxian species but presented as Earth legends, seemed to captivate our audience.

"Remember," I continued, "on Siluria, you can't rely on high-tech gadgets. Your paintball guns are your lifeline." I lifted one of our modified weapons, its design a perfect blend of Earth expectations and otherworldly aesthetics.

As our team suited up in their Kevlar and spandex blend 'spacesuits', I couldn't help but marvel at how this venture allowed us to hide in plain sight, sharing a piece of our extraordinary reality under the guise of imagination and fun.

I moved among our newly assembled test players, adjusting their protective gear and ensuring each mask fit properly. Through my connection with Sela, I monitored their comfort levels and safety parameters as they prepared for their first game.

"These suits aren't just costumes," I explained, helping one player adjust their kevlar-spandex blend armor. "They're designed to protect you while maintaining the authenticity of our intergalactic theme." In truth, Sela had helped design the suits to closely mirror actual Limoxian battle gear while meeting Earth safety standards.

The masks before us represented different species, each one carefully crafted to evoke Earth mythology while secretly drawing from real Limoxian races. I watched as players selected their team affiliations, their excitement growing as they embraced their chosen roles.

"Remember," I called out, "on Siluria, you can't rely on advanced technology. Your skills and teamwork are your greatest assets." Through my telepathic link with Sela, I could sense the growing immersion of our players in the experience we'd created.

Greg demonstrated the modified paintball weapons, their design a perfect blend of Earth expectations and otherworldly aesthetics. "These weapons are completely mechanical," he explained, "perfect for a world where technology doesn't function."

As I watched our test group divide into their four-person teams, I felt a surge of pride. We'd created something unique - a business that allowed us to hide in plain sight while sharing a piece of our extraordinary reality.

The players might think they were just participating in an imaginative game, but they were actually experiencing a small taste of the incredible universe we knew existed beyond Earth's boundaries.

I watched our test group suit up in their newly designed gear, my heart filled with anticipation. Through my connection with Sela, I monitored each player's vital signs and comfort levels as they prepared for our first full trial run.

"Remember, you're not just playing paintball," I explained, adjusting a player's mask. "You're stepping into the world of Siluria, where technology doesn't function and only your skills matter."

Greg led the first team through a basic strategy session, explaining how the terrain features mirrored Silurian landscapes. I watched as players discovered the strategic positions we'd carefully designed, their movements becoming more confident as they familiarized themselves with the environment.

"Each base represents a different species' stronghold," I explained, guiding another team through their starting position. The masks they wore, secretly modeled after real Limoxian races but presented as Earth mythology, helped them embrace their roles with unexpected enthusiasm.

Through our telepathic link, Sela helped me track the players' movements and interactions, ensuring our safety measures worked effectively while maintaining the illusion of our otherworldly theme. The modified weapons performed perfectly, their mechanical nature fitting seamlessly with our story of a technology-free environment.

As the test run progressed, I couldn't help but smile at the irony - we'd created the perfect cover story, allowing us to share a piece of our extraordinary reality while appearing to be nothing more than creative entrepreneurs.

I watched with satisfaction as our first paying customers tried out the paintball experience. Through my connection with Sela, I monitored their engagement levels and safety parameters while they navigated our carefully designed battlefield.

"The terrain really makes you feel like you're on another world," one player called out as they ducked behind one of our artificial rock formations. Through Sela's enhanced perception, I could track how effectively the teams were using the strategic positions we'd created.

Greg moved among the players, offering guidance on team tactics and explaining how the "primitive" weapons suited the technology-free environment of Siluria. The modified paintball guns performed exactly as designed, their mechanical nature perfectly matching our cover story.

"Each species has their own strengths," I explained to a team regrouping at their base, adjusting their alien-themed masks. The masks, secretly modeled after real Limoxian races but presented as Earth mythology, helped immerse them fully in the experience.

Through our telepathic link, Sela helped me identify areas where we could improve the experience. The kevlar-spandex blend suits were performing well, providing optimal protection while maintaining the futuristic aesthetic we'd aimed for.

As I watched the teams engage in their tactical maneuvers, I felt a deep sense of accomplishment. We'd created something unique - a business that allowed us to hide in plain sight while sharing a piece of our extraordinary reality. The players might think they were just participating in an imaginative game, but they were experiencing a small taste of the incredible universe that existed beyond Earth's boundaries.

With the play test a complete success, we took our documentation to other potential investors who greedily signed on to support us. The day came after everything was completed according to our designs.

I was especially proud of how the command center building turned out. It housed the pre-game briefing area, our sales and equipment rental center, the locker and dressing rooms for the participants, our otherworldly food concession, and our store where customers could get a piece of the world we had created.

Opening day had come and gone while our business surged ahead. The growing enthusiasm of our customers confirmed that our venture was succeeding, not just as a business, but as the perfect cover for our otherworldly family. Another successful day of operation was coming to a close.

I stood with Greg at the entrance of our paintball arena, watching as another group of satisfied customers departed. Through my connection with Sela, I could sense the growing success of our venture - not just financially, but as the perfect cover for our extraordinary situation.

"The Silurian theme really makes it unique," one player commented as they returned their gear. "It's like stepping into another world." If they only knew how close to the truth they were.

Through our telepathic link, Sela helped me analyze the day's operations. The modified weapons had performed flawlessly, their mechanical nature perfectly supporting our story of a technology-free environment. The Kevlar-spandex blend suits had protected our players while maintaining the otherworldly aesthetic we'd worked so hard to create.

Greg gathered the team masks, each one secretly modeled after real Limoxian species but presented as Earth mythology. "The four-person squad system really works," he said, pride evident in his voice. "It creates the perfect balance for tactical gameplay."

I watched as our staff cleaned and maintained the equipment, following the precise procedures we'd established. The battle zone, with its carefully designed terrain features mirroring Silurian landscapes, had become more than just a playing field - it was a bridge between our hidden truth and our public facade.

As we closed for the day, I couldn't help but appreciate the irony of our success. We'd created a business that allowed us to hide in plain sight, sharing pieces of our extraordinary reality under the guise of imagination and entertainment. The growing popularity of our paintball universe proved that sometimes the best place to hide the truth was right out in the open.

Destiny's Serendipity

Episode One: The Copernicus Family

A Thriller - Romance - Transgender Serial

By Jo Dora Webster

~~~~~~~~

Will Bart's investigation of Regalia's mysteries bridge the gap to the region beyond the barrier and save all on their planet?

~~~~~~~~

The classroom was a model of Regalian efficiency, with sleek desks arranged in perfect rows and holographic displays flickering with complex equations and diagrams. At the center of it all sat Bart, his fingers dancing across his console with lightning speed.

The instructor, a stern-faced man with graying hair not attempting to hide the growing bald spot on his crown, approached Bart's desk.

"Bartholomew Copernicus," he announced, his voice carrying across the silent room, "your solution to the quantum entanglement problem is... flawless. Not only have you solved it, but you've also proposed a practical application that could revolutionize our energy production methods." A murmur of awe and envy rippled through the classroom. Bart's classmates stared at him with a mixture of admiration and resentment. One student in particular, a boy named Marcus, glared openly at Bart, his fists clenched under his desk.

Bart, for his part, accepted the praise with a modest nod. "Thank you, Instructor Ventor. I merely applied the principles we've been studying and followed them to their logical conclusion."

Instructor Ventor's lips twitched in what might have been the ghost of a smile. "Your 'mere application' has outpaced our most advanced researchers, Bartholomew. The Scientific Council will be most interested in your findings."

As the class was dismissed, Bart gathered his materials, acutely aware of the eyes following him. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of isolation. His intellect, the very thing that made him exceptional in Regalian society, also set him apart from his peers in ways that sometimes left him feeling profoundly alone.

Walking through the pristine corridors of the Academy, Bart observed his fellow students clustering into their usual social groups, their animated discussions about quantum mechanics and genetic optimization echoing off the polished walls. A few nodded respectfully in his direction, but none invited him to join their circles. Even Marcus, his closest academic rival, kept his distance, though his eyes followed Bart with a mixture of envy and calculation.

The solitude felt particularly heavy today, perhaps because of the pending announcement about his father's appointment. As he made his way home through Regalia's geometrically perfect streets, the towering spires of the Scientific District cast long shadows that seemed to mirror his internal state - standing tall but ultimately alone.

The problem with being a technocracy in Regalia on planet Litolus was that any other ruling systems tried before had been expertly covered up, like the reason behind the barrier that divided the planet. Bart had no time for such weighty thoughts since he had to rush home for an important ceremony involving his father. He was just in time to get in line with his brothers.

The Copernicus family stood at attention in their living room, facing the large viewscreen that dominated one wall. On the screen, a stern-faced official in an immaculate uniform addressed them directly.

"Raymond Copernicus," the official intoned, his voice resonating with authority, "by decree of the ruling elite, you are hereby appointed to the position of First Scientist. Your contributions to Regalian science and your unwavering dedication to our principles have earned you this highest of honors."

Raymond's face remained impassive, but his eyes shone with pride and ambition. "I am honored to accept this appointment," he replied, his voice steady and confident. "I pledge to use this position to further advance Regalia's scientific dominance and ensure our continued strength."

As the transmission ended, the family erupted into a controlled celebration. Alenace, the family synthetic servant, looked expectantly into Raymond's eyes, his touch conveying pride and support. Bruce's muscular frame spoke of hours spent in physical training and his handshake continued the game he played with his father conveying their love with a crushing vise grip.

Following Bruce, the oldest, came the middle child, Robert, whose slender build and quick, darting eyes hinted at a mind more suited to intellectual pursuits. He congratulated his father with a normal handshake and speaking to him.

"Thank you, Father, for your work bring so excellent to rise to our highest position. You challenge me to do better by providing an excellent example of mental ability."

Bart, however, stood slightly apart, his mind racing with the implications of his father's new role. He understood the power and responsibility that came with the position of First Scientist. It meant access to Regalia's most closely guarded secrets, control over the direction of scientific research, and a direct line to the ruling elite.

"Father," Bart said, stepping forward, "what will be your first initiative as First Scientist?"

Raymond turned to his youngest son, a calculating look in his eyes. "My first task, Bartholomew, will be to review and optimize our incubator program. The future of Regalia depends on producing the strongest, most intelligent citizens possible."

"Father," Bart began, his voice careful and measured, "I've completed the advanced physics module you assigned. May I request access to the next level of study materials?"

Raymond's eyebrows raised slightly, a flicker of pride crossing his features. "Already, Bartholomew? Impressive. I'll authorize your access this evening."

Alenace interjected, his tone neutral but with an undercurrent of concern. "Remember, Bartholomew, balance is crucial. Your physical training should not suffer for your intellectual pursuits."

Bart nodded, filing away this information. He couldn't shake the feeling that his father's appointment would have far-reaching consequences, not just for their family, but for all of Regalia.

Later that evening, as the celebration wound down and the reality of their new status settled in, the familiar routine of daily training beckoned. The metallic hum of the home's environmental systems seemed to pulse with a different rhythm now, as if the very air recognized the shift in their family's position within Regalia's hierarchy. Bart made his way through the gleaming corridors, his footsteps echoing against the polished floors, knowing that even their prescribed physical conditioning would feel different under the weight of his father's new authority.

The Copernicus family's private training facility echoed with the sounds of physical exertion. Bruce grunted as he lifted an impossibly heavy weight, his muscles straining under the effort. Nearby, Robert's fingers flew across a complex control panel, his eyes darting between multiple screens as he solved a series of increasingly difficult logic puzzles.

Bart entered the room, his presence immediately drawing the attention of his brothers. There was a palpable tension in the air, a mixture of competitiveness and unspoken resentment.

"Ah, the prodigy graces us with his presence," Bruce said, his tone a blend of admiration and sarcasm. He set down the weights with a thud that seemed to shake the room. "Come to show us up in physical training too, little brother?"

Robert glanced up from his console, pushing his glasses up his nose. "Don't be absurd, Bruce. We all know Bart's strengths lie elsewhere." There was a hint of bitterness in his voice, barely concealed.

Bart approached the training equipment, his movements deliberate and measured. "I believe in a balanced approach," he said calmly. "The mind and body must work in harmony for optimal performance."

With fluid grace, Bart began a series of complex calisthenics, his form perfect and his breathing controlled. Bruce and Robert watched, their expressions a mix of grudging respect and growing frustration.

As Bart completed his routine, he moved to Robert's station. Glancing at the screen, he quickly assessed the problem and offered a solution. "If you recalibrate the quantum flux, you'll find the algorithm resolves itself more efficiently," he suggested.

Robert's jaw tightened, but he nodded stiffly. "Of course. I was just about to try that."

The brothers continued their training in silence, each acutely aware of Bart's superior abilities. The youngest Copernicus had once again demonstrated why he was considered the family's brightest star, and the weight of that reality hung heavily in the air.

After completing his training regimen, Bart excused himself from the facility, leaving his brothers to their respective pursuits. The evening air in the corridors felt thick with unspoken tensions, and the soft hum of the environmental systems seemed to echo his racing thoughts. His father's new position as First Scientist had already begun to reshape their family dynamics, and Bart felt an increasing urgency to explore the questions that had long lingered in his mind. The weight of his recent discoveries in quantum entanglement, combined with his growing suspicions about Regalia's carefully maintained order, drove him toward the one place where he felt truly free to think.

As night fell over Regalia, Bart retreated to his personal study, a sanctuary of knowledge hidden within the Copernicus home. The room was a stark contrast to the minimalist design favored by Regalian standards. Shelves lined the walls, crammed with books both old and new, their spines a colorful rebellion against the monochrome world outside.

Bart approached a seemingly ordinary section of the wall and pressed his palm against it. A soft blue light scanned his hand, and with a quiet hiss, a hidden compartment slid open. Inside lay a collection of forbidden texts, their pages yellowed with age and filled with information that challenged everything Regalia stood for.

With reverent care, Bart extracted a particularly ancient tome. Its cover bore no title, only an intricate design that seemed to shimmer in the low light. As he opened it, the musty scent of old paper filled the air, carrying with it the promise of hidden knowledge.

His eyes widened as he read, absorbing information about a world beyond the barrier that surrounded Regalia. The text spoke of a civilization as old and advanced as their own, but fundamentally different in ways that both fascinated and terrified him.

"A society where strength is not the only measure of worth," Bart murmured to himself, his fingers tracing the words on the page. "Where facts are debated rather than dictated, and where political control is shared among the people."

But it was the next passage that truly captured his attention. "Beyond our borders," he read aloud, his voice barely a whisper, "lives a type of human we have long thought extinct. They call themselves... women."

Bart's mind reeled at the implications. Women – a concept so foreign, so at odds with everything he had been taught about biology and the natural order of things. How could such beings exist? And why had their existence been hidden from Regalia?

As he delved deeper into the text, Bart felt a growing sense of excitement and unease. He was on the cusp of a discovery that could shake the very foundations of Regalian society. But with that knowledge came danger. If anyone were to discover these texts, the consequences would be severe.

Bart glanced at the door, suddenly paranoid. He knew he should stop, should return the book to its hiding place and pretend he had never seen it. But the allure of forbidden knowledge was too strong. With a deep breath, he turned the page, ready to uncover more secrets of the world beyond the barrier.

As dawn broke over Regalia, Bart had barely slept, his mind consumed by the revelations from the ancient text. The existence of women, the possibility of a different social order - these forbidden concepts had shattered his understanding of reality. He knew he needed to see the barrier for himself, to connect the physical boundary of his world with the philosophical ones he had just discovered.

After a perfunctory breakfast where he avoided his family's questioning looks, particularly his father's calculating gaze, Bart made his way through the city's precisely arranged streets, drawn inexorably toward the edge of everything he had ever known. Bart found himself standing at the edge of Regalia's outermost district, his eyes fixed on the shimmering wall of energy that marked the boundary of their world. The barrier stretched as far as the eye could see in either direction, a constant reminder of the separation between Regalia and the unknown beyond.

From this distance, the barrier appeared almost beautiful, its surface rippling with subtle patterns of light and color. But Bart knew the truth of its nature – an impenetrable force field designed to keep Regalia isolated from the outside world.

As he stood there, lost in thought, a patrol of Barrier Guards approached. Their uniforms were crisp and intimidating, weapons at the ready. "Citizen," one of the guards addressed Bart, his voice stern. "This area is restricted. State your purpose for being here."

Bart straightened, adopting the posture and tone expected of a model Regalian citizen. "I am Bartholomew Copernicus, son of First Scientist Raymond Copernicus. I'm conducting preliminary observations for a school project on barrier technology."

The guard's demeanor softened slightly at the mention of Bart's father, but suspicion lingered in his eyes. "Very well. But be advised, any attempt to approach or interact with the barrier is strictly prohibited. Observe from a safe distance only."

Bart nodded obediently. "Of course. I understand the protocols."

As the guards moved on, Bart returned his attention to the barrier. The forbidden texts he had read flashed through his mind, filling him with equal parts curiosity and apprehension. He raised his hand, palm outward, feeling the familiar tingling sensation as the energy field responded to his presence.

Suddenly, something unprecedented occurred - a faint pulse of energy rippled through the barrier, different from its usual patterns. Through the translucent wall, Bart caught a glimpse of a shadowy figure on the other side - one whose form defied everything he knew about human physiology.

Before he could process what he was seeing, footsteps echoed behind him. Bart whirled around to find Marcus, his classroom rival, staring at him with a mixture of triumph and malice. In his hand, he held a recording device.

"The son of the First Scientist, consorting with outsiders," Marcus sneered. "I wonder what the Council would make of this?"

Destiny's Serendipity

Episode Two: Women?

A Thriller - Romance - Transgender Serial

By Jo Dora Webster

~~~~~~~~

Will Bart's investigation of Regalia's mysteries bridge the gap to the region beyond the barrier and save all on their planet?

~~~~~~~~

Just as Marcus raised the recording device with a triumphant sneer, the barrier behind Bart pulsed with an unprecedented surge of energy. The mysterious figure on the other side pressed what appeared to be a crystalline object against the barrier, sending ripples of iridescent light cascading through the force field.

Marcus stumbled backward, momentarily blinded by the flash, and his recording device clattered to the ground. In that split second of chaos, Bart made his choice. He snatched up the fallen device and sprinted away from both Marcus and the beckoning figure, his heart beating with the knowledge that he had only delayed the inevitable confrontation.

 Later that evening, safely back in his quarters, Bart's mind raced with questions about the figure he'd glimpsed - its strange proportions and flowing garments unlike anything in Regalia. But he knew he had to focus on the more immediate threat: Marcus had seen enough to destroy everything, and Bart had mere hours to devise a plan before his rival recovered from his shock and reported to the authorities.

 Back in the safety of his room, Bart concentrated on the forbidden texts he had smuggled from his hidden collection. His fingers trembled slightly as he turned the delicate pages, each one revealing more about the mysterious beings known as "women."

According to ancient writings, women were not the monstrous mutants Regalian society had led him to believe. They were described as equals to men, possessing their own strengths, intellects, and vital roles in society. The texts spoke of their ability to bear children – a concept so foreign to Bart that he struggled to comprehend it.

One passage particularly caught his attention: "In the world beyond, the union of man and woman brings forth new life, a natural process that has sustained humanity for millennia."

Bart's brow furrowed in confusion and wonder. The idea of reproduction without incubators, of two beings coming together to create life, seemed simultaneously primitive and miraculous.

As he read on, he found descriptions of women's appearances, their societal roles, and even their emotional capacities. The texts painted a picture of a more diverse, complex society than anything Bart had ever known in Regalia.

"How can this be?" Bart muttered to himself, his mind racing. "Why would Regalia hide the existence of half of humanity? What purpose does it serve?"

He knew these questions were dangerous, bordering on seditious. But the more he learned, the more he felt compelled to uncover the truth. The existence of women challenged everything he had been taught about biology, society, and the very nature of human existence.

Bart closes the book, his head spinning with new knowledge and countless questions. He realized that his quest for understanding was only beginning, and that the truth about women – and the world beyond Regalia – might be more revolutionary than he could have ever imagined.

Unable to sleep after his discovery, Bart spends the rest of the night formulating a plan to learn more about Regalia's reproductive system. The existence of women raised fundamental questions about how and why this society had developed its clinical approach to creating new citizens. His father's new position as First Scientist provided an unprecedented opportunity to access restricted facilities, and Bart intended to use that access to compare the reality of Regalian reproduction with what he had learned from the forbidden texts.  As dawn broke over the city's pristine towers, he made his way to the Scientific District, his mind carefully constructing the persona of an eager son simply interested in his father's work.

The next day, Bart found himself in one of Regalia's most restricted areas – a government-run incubator facility. As the son of the newly appointed First Scientist, he had been granted special access to observe the process that sustained their population.

The facility was a marvel of technology, its stark white halls lined with rows upon rows of sleek, cylindrical incubators. Each one hummed with energy, nurturing the next generation of Regalian citizens.

A senior scientist, Dr. Elaron, led Bart through the facility. "As you know, Bartholomew," he explained, his voice clinical and detached, "natural reproduction is inefficient and unpredictable. Here, we ensure that only the best genetic material is used to create our future citizens."

Bart nodded, maintaining a facade of calm interest while his mind raced with comparisons to the natural reproduction methods he had read about in the forbidden texts.

Dr. Elaron continued, gesturing to a large screen displaying complex genetic sequences. "The government carefully selects citizens based on their physical and intellectual prowess. Their genetic material is then combined and optimized in our labs before being placed in the incubators."

As they walked, Bart observed scientists meticulously monitoring each incubator, adjusting nutrient levels and environmental conditions. The process was a testament to Regalia's technological achievements, but Bart couldn't shake a feeling of unease.

"And how are the, um, contributors selected?" Bart asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

Dr. Elaron's expression remained impassive. "A committee of our top scientists and government officials evaluates each citizen's potential contribution to the gene pool. It's a great honor to be selected, a recognition of one's superior qualities."

Bart absorbed this information, his mind grappling with the ethical implications. The system ensures a population of strong, intelligent citizens, but at what cost? The diversity, the element of chance, the emotional connection of natural reproduction – all of it sacrificed in the name of controlled perfection. As they completed the tour, Bart thanked Dr. Elaron for his time, his head swirling with new information and troubling questions. He left the facility more certain than ever that there was much more to discover about the true nature of life and reproduction, both within Regalia and beyond.

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the pristine streets as Bart made his way home, each step echoing with the weight of his thoughts. His mind kept returning to the strange equipment he'd seen in the restricted areas, the carefully worded explanations that seemed to hide as much as they revealed. The pristine halls of the reproduction facility had always represented the pinnacle of Regalian achievement, but now they felt more like a façade concealing deeper mysteries. As twilight settled over the city, he found himself questioning everything he'd been taught about their society's most fundamental system.

That night, Bart stood at his bedroom window, his gaze fixed on the distant shimmer of the barrier. The city of Regalia sprawled before him, a testament to order and scientific progress. Yet, for the first time in his young life, Bart felt a profound sense of unease about the world he called home. His mind raced with the knowledge he had accumulated – the forbidden texts speaking of women and natural reproduction, the clinical efficiency of the incubator facilities, the rigid control exerted over every aspect of Regalian life. The contrast between what he had been taught and what he had discovered was stark and unsettling. "There has to be more than this," Bart whispered to himself, his breath fogging the glass. He placed his hand against the cool surface, as if trying to reach out and touch the world beyond.

He thought about his family – his father's pride in his new position, his brothers' constant striving to excel, Alenace's quiet efficiency. They all fit so perfectly into the Regalian ideal. But Bart was beginning to realize that he didn't. His curiosity, his thirst for knowledge that went beyond approved topics, his growing skepticism of Regalian dogma – all of it set him apart in ways that both excited and terrified him.

Bart's reflection stared back at him from the window, and he saw in his own eyes a spark of something that he had never noticed before – a hunger for truth, no matter the cost. He knew that pursuing this path could be dangerous, potentially even treasonous. But the pull of the unknown was too strong to resist.

"I'll find out the truth," Bart vowed to his reflection. "About women, about the world beyond the barrier, about why Regalia is the way it is. No matter what it takes." As he turned away from the window, Bart felt a mix of determination and apprehension settle in his chest. He was embarking on a journey that would challenge everything he had ever known, and he had no idea where it might lead him.

Bart moved through his evening routine mechanically, his mind still churning with questions about his visit to the reproduction facility. The familiar comfort of his home now felt strangely artificial, each perfectly arranged item and scheduled activity a reminder of Regalia's rigid control. As the dinner hour approached, he straightened his clothing and checked his reflection, ensuring he showed no outward signs of his inner turmoil. His father expected nothing less than perfect composure, especially during family meals. With practiced precision, Bart made his way downstairs, each step carrying him closer to the carefully orchestrated performance that was a Copernicus family dinner.

The Copernicus family gathered around the dining table, a model of Regalian efficiency and decorum. The meal, precisely portioned for optimal nutrition, was served by Alenace. Raymond sat at the head of the table, his posture impeccable. Bruce and Robert flanked one side, with Bart seated alone on the other.

"Bartholomew," Raymond began, his tone measured, "I've received a report from your instructors. Your performance continues to exceed expectations." Bart nodded, careful to keep his expression neutral. "Thank you, Father. I strive to honor our family and Regalia with my efforts." Alenace interjected, his voice soft but firm. "While your academic achievements are commendable, we must ensure you're maintaining balance. Physical fitness is equally important in Regalian society." "Of course," Bart replied, suppressing a flicker of irritation. "I've increased my training regimen to compensate for the additional study time."

Bruce and Robert exchanged glances, a mixture of pride and resentment evident in their eyes. The unspoken competition between the siblings hung in the air like a tangible presence. As the meal progressed, the conversation turned to Raymond's new position as First Scientist. "The ruling elite has tasked me with optimizing our reproduction protocols," he announced. "We must ensure that each new generation surpasses the last in strength and intellect."

Bart's fork paused halfway to his mouth. "Father," he ventured cautiously, "have there ever been... alternative methods of reproduction considered?"

A heavy silence fell over the table. Raymond's eyes narrowed slightly. "Alternative methods? Explain your meaning, Bartholomew." Realizing his mistake, Bart quickly backtracked. "I merely wondered if there were historical precedents or theoretical models that differed from our current system. For comparative study, of course."

Raymond's expression relaxed marginally. "Our current method is the culmination of centuries of scientific progress, Bartholomew. It is perfect in its efficiency and results. There is no need to consider alternatives." The subject was closed, but Bart could feel his father's gaze lingering on him, a new wariness in his eyes. As the family resumed eating, Bart knew he would have to be more careful in the future. His quest for knowledge had already begun to set him apart, and in Regalia, being different was dangerous.

The rest of dinner passed in a blur of stilted conversation and careful movements. As soon as the meal concluded, Bart excused himself with appropriate politeness and retreated to his room, his father's scrutinizing look following him up the stairs. The sanctuary of his personal space offered little relief tonight - even these four walls seemed to watch and wait, monitoring his every move through the countless sensors that ensured the well-being of Regalia's citizens. His mind raced with the day's revelations, but he couldn't afford the luxury of silent contemplation. In Regalia, even silence could be suspicious.

What Bart needed was some time to think, but instead he realized that if he did not fill his room with sound Alenace would arrive. A quiet time was picked as conducive to performing the weekly psych exam. Bart randomly picked a documentary so that he would not have to endure that test that evening.

The gleaming spires of Regalia pierced the sky, their polished surfaces reflecting the setting sun in a dazzling display of technological prowess. From the air, the city appeared as a perfectly ordered grid, each building and street meticulously planned and executed. This was a nation built on the pillars of strength, facts, and political control.

As the camera panned across the city, a narrator's voice filled the air, rich with pride and conviction. "Regalia, a beacon of human achievement, where the pursuit of knowledge and the cultivation of strength have elevated our society beyond all others. Here, we have harnessed the power of science to create a perfect order, free from the chaos and weakness that plague lesser nations."

The view zoomed in on a massive complex at the heart of the city, its architecture a blend of imposing grandeur and clinical efficiency. "At the center of our great nation stands the Institute of Scientific Governance, where the brightest minds work tirelessly to ensure Regalia's continued dominance and progress."

Citizens moved through the streets with purpose, their attire uniform and practical. There was no room for frivolity or individualism in their dress or demeanor. Each person seemed to know their place and function within the greater machine of Regalian society.

The narrator continued, "In Regalia, every citizen has a role to play, a contribution to make to our collective strength. From the First Scientist to the newest incubator-born child, we are all united in our commitment to the advancement of our nation and the pursuit of absolute truth."

The humdrum attempt at teaching at least obtained the result Bart wanted. The psyche exam was delayed for another day.

After dismissing the documentary with a practiced gesture, Bart spent the remaining evening hours methodically completing his assigned studies, maintaining the appearance of a dedicated Regalian student. The soft hum of the room's environmental systems and the occasional whir of Alenace passing by his door provided a comforting backdrop of normalcy. As night settled over the city, the artificial lighting outside his window dimmed according to schedule, signaling the approach of mandatory rest hours. Yet despite the familiar routine, Bart's mind refused to settle into its usual patterns of analytical thought and systematic processing.

Long after the rest of the family had retired for the night, Bart lay awake in his bed, staring at the ceiling. The events of the day played through his mind on an endless loop – the tour of the incubator facility, the family dinner, the constant reminders of Regalia's rigid expectations.

He turned his head to look out the window, where the faint glow of the barrier was visible on the horizon. Beyond that shimmering wall lay a world he had only read about in forbidden texts – a world of women, of natural reproduction, of ideas and ways of life that challenged everything Regalia stood for.

Bart's hand unconsciously moved to his chest, where a small key hung on a chain beneath his nightshirt. It was the key to the hidden compartment in his study, where he kept his secret collection of banned books and contraband information. That key represented a door to knowledge, to truth – and potentially to danger.

As he lay there, Bart made a decision. He would continue his research, delve deeper into the mysteries that Regalia sought to hide. But he would have to be smarter, more cautious. He couldn't risk arousing suspicion, not when the stakes were so high.

"I'll find a way," Bart whispered into the darkness. "I'll discover the truth about our world, about the people beyond the barrier. And someday, somehow, I'll see that world for myself."

Just as sleep began to overtake him, a soft mechanical whir caught his attention. His eyes snapped open to see Alenace standing in his doorway, its optical sensors glowing an unusual shade of red. And then, for the first time in Bart's memory, the household android spoke without being prompted:

"Citizen Copernicus, you have been flagged for immediate psychological evaluation."

Destiny's Serendipity

Episode Three: The Science of Life

A Thriller - Romance - Transgender Serial

By Jo Dora Webster

~~~~~~~~

Will Bart's investigation of Regalia's mysteries bridge the gap to the region beyond the barrier and save all on their planet?

~~~~~~~~

Bart's heart raced as Alenace's red sensors pierced the darkness, but before the android could initiate the evaluation protocol, a sudden power fluctuation plunged the room into darkness. When the emergency systems restored minimal lighting seconds later, Alenace had reset to its standard operating mode, its memory banks showing no record of the incident. Bart lay perfectly still, his breath shallow, knowing he had just witnessed something unprecedented - someone or something had intervened to protect his secret.

The following morning, Bart moved through his preparations for the facility tour with meticulous care, ensuring his appearance and demeanor matched the expectations of a model Regalian citizen. The events of the previous night lingered in his thoughts, but he pushed them aside, focusing instead on the opportunity before him. As the transport pod carried him and his father toward the incubator facility, Bart maintained a carefully crafted expression of dutiful interest, all while his mind cataloged every detail that might help him understand the mysteries unfolding around him.

The gleaming white halls of Regalia's central incubator facility stretched as far as the eye could see. Rows upon rows of cylindrical pods hummed with life-sustaining energy, each one carefully monitored by white-coated scientists. Bart walked beside his father, Raymond Copernicus, a newly appointed First Scientist, as they toured the facility.

"This, Bartholomew, is the heart of Regalia's future," Raymond said, his voice filled with pride. "Here, we ensure the continuation of our society with scientific precision."

Bart nodded, his eyes taking in every detail. The sterile environment, the rhythmic beeping of monitoring equipment, the soft blue glow emanating from each incubator – it was all so familiar, yet suddenly strange.

As they passed by a particularly large incubator, Bart couldn't help but ask, "Father, how exactly does the process work?"

Raymond's eyes lit up at the question. "Ah, an excellent inquiry. Let me explain..."

Raymond led Bart to a holographic display at the center of the facility. With a wave of his hand, he brought up a detailed diagram of the incubation process.

"You see, Bartholomew, we start with carefully selected genetic material from our most exemplary citizens," Raymond began. "This material is then optimized in our labs, removing any potential weaknesses or flaws."

The hologram shifted, showing the development of a fetus within an incubator. "The optimized genetic material is placed in a nutrient-rich environment, carefully controlled to ensure optimal development. Every aspect – from temperature to hormone levels – is precisely managed."

Bart watched, fascinated and slightly unsettled, as the holographic fetus grew and developed at an accelerated rate. "And this is how all Regalians are born?" he asked.

Raymond nodded, beaming with pride. "Indeed. It's the pinnacle of reproductive science, ensuring each new generation is stronger and more capable than the last."

Bart absorbed this information in silence, his pulse quickening as the implications became clear. The sterile precision of the lab seemed to close in around him, each pristine surface and humming machine a testament to Regalia's relentless pursuit of perfection. As his father guided him toward their next destination, Bart carefully maintained his expression of dutiful interest, though his mind raced with questions he dared not voice. The elevator ride to the upper levels gave him precious moments to compose himself before they reached their final stop on the tour. In a dimly lit room, a group of stern-faced officials sat around a large table, holographic displays floating before each of them. Bart and his father observed from a viewing gallery above.

"This is the Selection Committee," Raymond explained in a hushed tone. "They are responsible for choosing which citizens will contribute genetic material for the next generation."

Bart watched as the committee members swiped through profile after profile, discussing in low voices the merits and drawbacks of each potential contributor.

"What criteria do they use?" Bart asked, his curiosity piqued.

Physical strength, intellectual capacity, emotional stability, loyalty to Regalia – all these factors and more are considered," Raymond replied. "Only the best are chosen, ensuring our population continues to improve with each generation."

Bart nodded, but a small frown creased his brow. The process seemed so cold, so impersonal. He couldn't help but wonder about those deemed unworthy to contribute.

Following the tour group through another set of pristine corridors, Bart's pulse quickened as his mind wrestled with the implications of the selection process. Each step echoed against the sterile floors as they made their way to the main research wing, where his father would be presenting the latest advancements in genetic optimization. The clinical atmosphere grew more pronounced, the air heavy with the weight of countless decisions that had shaped Regalia's carefully curated population. Raymond Copernicus stood at the head of a large laboratory, surrounded by Regalia's top scientists. Holographic displays filled the air, showing complex genetic sequences and statistical models."

As First Scientist, it is my duty to oversee and optimize our reproduction process," Raymond announced, his voice commanding attention. "We must push the boundaries of what's possible, to create a population that is not just strong, but invincible."

Bart, observing from a corner of the lab, watched as his father manipulated genetic codes with practiced ease. The other scientists nodded in agreement, their eyes filled with admiration and a hint of fear.

"Father," Bart spoke up, his voice hesitant, "what about genetic diversity? Doesn't narrowing the gene pool pose risks?"

Raymond turned to his son, a slight frown on his face. "Diversity is unpredictable, Bartholomew. In Regalia, we strive for perfection, not chance. Our methods ensure only the best traits are passed on."

Bart followed his father through another series of pristine corridors, his pulse quickening at the implications of Raymond's words. The sterile white walls seemed to close in around him as they walked in silence, each step echoing with the weight of unspoken questions. His father's certainty about Regalian superiority contrasted sharply with the growing doubts that threatened to show on Bart's carefully composed face. As they approached the education wing, he forced his breathing to steady, knowing he would need all his focus to maintain his facade of dutiful acceptance.

As he worked, Bart couldn't help but compare the official teachings with the forbidden knowledge he had gleaned from his secret readings. The discrepancies were subtle but significant.

A soft chime interrupted his thoughts. It was time for his daily report to his instructors. Bart took a deep breath, composing himself. He had to be careful not to reveal his doubts or the extent of his extracurricular studies.

"Instructor Ventor," he said, activating the communication panel. "I've completed the advanced genetics module. However, I have some questions about the long-term implications of our current reproductive methods.

"There was a pause on the other end. "Questions, Bartholomew? Our methods have been perfected over generations. What could possibly be unclear?"

Bart swallowed hard, choosing his words carefully. "I was merely wondering about the potential for unexpected mutations or the loss of beneficial recessive traits. Purely theoretical, of course."

Another pause. "I see. Perhaps we should schedule a meeting to discuss these... theories of yours."

As the communication ended, Bart leaned back in his chair, a mixture of excitement and apprehension coursing through him. He was treading dangerous ground, but the pursuit of knowledge was worth the risk.

Time slipped away as Bart methodically erased all traces of his illicit communication, his pulse quickening with each careful keystroke. The afternoon sun cast long shadows through his window, reminding him that the family dinner had approached - a daily ritual that had taken on new weight since his father's promotion. As he made his way downstairs, Bart worked to compose his features into a mask of dutiful attention, knowing that even the slightest hint of his earlier activities could draw unwanted scrutiny.

The Copernicus family sat around the dinner table. The usual silence was broken by Raymond's enthusiastic discussion of his work.

"The advancements we're making in genetic optimization are truly remarkable," he said, his eyes shining with pride. "Soon, we'll be able to predict and enhance specific traits with unprecedented accuracy."

Alenace nodded approvingly. "It's crucial work, sir. The future of Regalia depends on producing the strongest, most capable citizens possible."

Bart listened intently, his mind racing. Finally, he couldn't contain his questions any longer. "But what about natural variation? Doesn't genetic diversity play a role in a species' ability to adapt and survive?"

The table fell silent. Bruce and Robert exchanged uncomfortable glances, while Raymond fixed Bart with a stern gaze.

"Bartholomew," he said, his voice low and serious, "natural variation is unpredictable and often leads to weakness. Our methods ensure only the best traits are passed on. It's the cornerstone of our society's strength."

Bart nodded, but the doubt in his heart only grew. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the story of human reproduction than Regalia was willing to admit.

The afternoon stretched into evening as Bart moved through his daily routines, his pulse quickening with each passing hour. The weight of unspoken questions pressed against his chest as he waited for the precise moment when the household monitoring systems would enter their nightly reduced surveillance mode. As darkness settled over Regalia, he watched the shadows lengthen across his room, counting the minutes until he could safely access his hidden collection of contraband knowledge. Late that night, Bart slipped into his secret study, carefully locking the door behind him. With trembling hands, he retrieved a worn book from its hiding place – a forbidden text on natural human reproduction.

As he read, his eyes widened in amazement. The book spoke of a process so different from Regalia's sterile incubators – a union between two beings, male and female, creating life through an act of intimacy and chance.

Bart's mind reeled with the implications. If this was true, then Regalia's entire system of reproduction was built on a lie. But why? What purpose did it serve to hide this knowledge?

He turned to his computer, fingers flying across the keyboard as he dug deeper into Regalia's scientific databases. There had to be some trace, some hint of the truth hidden within the official records.

As the night wore on, Bart's excitement grew. He was on the verge of uncovering something monumental – a truth that could shake the very foundations of Regalian society.

Dawn crept over Regalia's pristine skyline as Bart carefully concealed his research materials and prepared for the day ahead. His pulse quickened with each passing minute as he donned his formal attire, knowing that in mere hours he would stand among the city's elite, watching another carefully orchestrated celebration of their reproductive technology. The weight of his discoveries pressed against his chest as he made his way through the morning crowds, each step bringing him closer to a ceremony that now seemed like an elaborate facade.

The grand hall of Regalia's Civic Center was packed with citizens, all eyes fixed on the stage where Raymond Copernicus stood. Behind him, a line of young men – the latest "graduates" from the incubator program – waited to be introduced to society.

"Citizens of Regalia," Raymond's voice boomed through the hall, "I present to you the newest members of our great society. Each one represents the pinnacle of our scientific achievement, born of our most exemplary genetic stock."

One by one, the young men stepped forward as their names were called. They were the picture of Regalian perfection – strong, intelligent, and utterly loyal to the state.

From his place in the audience, Bart watched with mixed emotions. He could see the pride on his father's face, the approval in the eyes of the crowd. But all he could think about was the clinical process that had brought these "newborns" into existence, so different from the natural reproduction he had read about in secret.

As the ceremony concluded and the crowd began to disperse, Bart made a silent vow to himself. He would uncover the truth about reproduction, about the world beyond Regalia's barriers. No matter the cost, he would find out why his society had chosen this path – and what they might have lost along the way.

The grand hall emptied slowly as citizens filed out in their precisely ordered groups. Bart's pulse quickened as he made his way through the pristine corridors, each step echoing with purpose against the polished floors. The weight of his resolution pressed against his chest as he navigated toward the Academy's research wing, where he knew he might find answers to at least some of his growing questions. The familiar path to Dr. Elaron's office had never felt longer, nor more significant.

After the ceremony, Bart seeks out Dr. Elaron, one of his most trusted mentors at the Academy. He finds him in his office, surrounded by holographic displays of genetic sequences.

"Dr. Elaron," Bart began hesitantly, "I was hoping to discuss some... theoretical questions about our reproductive methods."

The older scientist looked up. His eyes were sharp behind his glasses. "Of course, Bartholomew. What's on your mind?"

Bart took a deep breath. "I've been wondering about the potential long-term effects of our current system. Are there any historical records of... alternative methods?"

Dr. Elaron's expression remained neutral, but Bart noticed a slight tension in his shoulders.

"Alternative methods? Bartholomew, our current system is the result of centuries of scientific progress. It's perfect in its efficiency."

"But surely there must have been other approaches in the past?" Bart pressed. "Before the incubators, how did humans reproduce?"

There was a long pause. Dr. Elaron's eyes seemed to search Bart's face. Finally, he spoke, his voice low. "Bartholomew, some questions are dangerous to ask. For your own sake, I suggest you focus on approved areas of study."

Bart left the office with more questions than answers, and a growing suspicion that there was far more to learn about the history of human reproduction than Regalia was willing to reveal.

The afternoon crawled by as Bart moved through his daily routines, his pulse quickening with each passing hour. Dr. Elaron's careful evasion only strengthened his resolve to uncover the truth. As night approached, he watched the household systems shift into their evening protocols, waiting for the precise moment when the monitoring would be at its lowest. His father's access card felt heavy in his pocket, a key to secrets that Regalia had buried deep within its pristine walls. Under the cover of darkness, Bart slipped out of his family's quarters, his heart beating with a mixture of fear and excitement. He had managed to "borrow" his father's access card, which would grant him entry to restricted areas of the incubator facility.

The halls were eerily quiet as Bart made his way through the facility, every shadow seeming to hide a potential guard or security camera. He finally reached a heavily secured door marked "Historical Archives."

With trembling hands, Bart swiped the access card. For a heart-stopping moment, nothing happened. Then, with a soft hiss, the door slid open.

Inside, Bart found rows upon rows of data storage units, each containing centuries of Regalia's scientific history. He quickly located the section on reproductive science and began to search.

As he delved deeper into the archives, Bart's eyes widened in shock. There, hidden among countless files of genetic research and incubator development, were fragments of information about natural human reproduction. References to "women," to "pregnancy," to a time before the incubators.

Bart's mind reeled with the implications. The forbidden texts he had read were true. Regalia had not just improved upon natural reproduction – they had completely replaced it, erasing all memory of what came before.

As he heard the sound of approaching footsteps, Bart quickly gathered what data he could and slipped out of the archives. He had found a piece of the puzzle, but he knew his journey to uncover the full truth was far from over.

Sleep eluded Bart that night as his pulse quickened with each review of the stolen data. The fragments of information about natural reproduction and the existence of women beyond the barrier consumed his thoughts until dawn painted Regalia's sky in artificial hues. When the morning notification chimed for the student tour, he carefully tucked away his illicit discoveries and donned the expected expression of academic curiosity. The walk to the facility felt different now - each pristine corridor holding secrets he was only beginning to understand.

The next day, Bart found himself back in the incubator facility, this time as part of an official tour for top students. As the group approached a active incubation chamber, Bart felt a mix of fascination and unease.

The chamber's transparent walls revealed a fully formed infant, floating peacefully in a nutrient-rich solution. Tubes and sensors monitored every aspect of its development.

"And here we have the final stage of incubation," the tour guide explained proudly. "In just a few hours, this new citizen will be ready to join Regalian society."

Bart stared at the infant, his mind racing. This was the reality of life in Regalia – a child born not of love or chance, but of careful scientific calculation. He thought of the hidden archives, of the lost knowledge of natural reproduction.

As if sensing his thoughts, the infant's eyes suddenly opened, meeting Bart's gaze. In that moment, Bart felt a profound connection to this new life, and an overwhelming sense of responsibility.

He knew then that his quest for truth was no longer just about satisfying his own curiosity. It was about uncovering a lost part of humanity, about giving future generations the choice that had been taken from them.

The afternoon light faded as Bart made his way home through Regalia's pristine streets, his pulse quickening with each step as the magnitude of his revelation settled over him. Every perfect building, every regulated interaction he witnessed now seemed like pieces of an elaborate facade, concealing truths that could reshape their society. The familiar path to his quarters had never felt more significant as he carried the weight of his newfound purpose, knowing that his actions could impact generations to come.

That night, Bart sat alone in his room, his mind still reeling from everything he had learned. The weight of his discoveries pressed heavily upon him.

He thought of the infant in the incubator, of the hidden archives, of the world beyond Regalia's barriers where women still existed and natural reproduction was the norm. He thought of his father's pride in the current system, and of the risks he would be taking by pursuing this forbidden knowledge.

But as he looked out his window at the shimmering barrier in the distance, Bart knew he couldn't turn back now. The truth – about reproduction, about women, about the world beyond Regalia – was out there, waiting to be uncovered.

With a deep breath, Bart made a silent vow. He would continue his research, no matter the cost. He would find a way to bridge the gap between Regalia and the outside world. And someday, somehow, he would help restore the balance that had been lost.

As his eyes grew heavy with sleep, a soft click echoed through his room. Bart froze, his pulse racing as his gaze fell on his computer terminal, where a message had appeared from an unknown sender:

"We know what you've discovered. Meet us tomorrow at midnight in Section 7B of the archives. Come alone, or everything you care about will be destroyed."

Destiny's Serendipity

Episode Four: Beyond the Veil

A Thriller - Romance - Transgender Serial

By Jo Dora Webster

~~~~~~~~

Will Bart's investigation of Regalia's mysteries bridge the gap to the region beyond the barrier and save all on their planet?

~~~~~~~~

Bart stared at the message until it vanished, leaving no trace in the system logs. His pulse quickened as he weighed his options, but before he could decide how to respond, a second message appeared: "Disregard previous communication. Your terminal has been compromised. Continue your research with extreme caution. The allies are watching." This message also disappeared, but not before Bart noticed it was signed with a small symbol he had seen before - in the margins of one of his forbidden books about the world beyond the barrier.

The following day passed in a blur of routine activities as Bart processed the implications of the mysterious messages. His mind churned with possibilities as he made his way toward the city's outer sectors, drawn inexorably toward the barrier that had always represented the boundary of his world. The morning sun cast long shadows across the pristine streets as he ventured into areas rarely frequented by ordinary citizens, each step carrying him closer to answers he both craved and feared. Bart's heart raced as he approached the shimmering veil barrier at the edge of Regalia. He had ventured further than ever before, driven by an insatiable curiosity about the world beyond. As he scanned the rocky terrain, something caught his eye – a dark opening partially hidden by overgrown vegetation.

With a mixture of excitement and trepidation, Bart pushed aside the foliage to reveal the entrance to a cave. The air from within felt different, carrying unfamiliar scents and a hint of mystery. He hesitated for a moment, aware of the risks of exploring unknown territory so close to the barrier. But the promise of discovery was too enticing to resist.

Activating his portable light source, Bart took his first tentative steps into the cave. The beam illuminated rough stone walls adorned with strange markings unlike anything he had seen in Regalia. As he ventured deeper, the cave seemed to come alive with echoes of a long-forgotten past.

"This could be it," Bart whispered to himself, his voice barely audible over the beating of his heart. "The key to understanding what lies beyond the veil."

The rocky entrance beckoned as Bart's pulse quickened with anticipation. He cast one final glance back at the distant spires of Regalia, their pristine surfaces now mere silver specks against the horizon. Drawing a deep breath, he activated his portable light source and stepped into the darkness, each footfall echoing against ancient stone walls that had clearly existed long before the barrier's creation. The temperature dropped noticeably as he ventured further from the entrance, the familiar hum of Regalia's technology fading into primal silence.

As Bart explored deeper into the cave system, his light fell upon something that made him gasp. Half-buried in the sandy floor was an object unlike anything he had ever seen in Regalia. With trembling hands, he carefully excavated the item.

It was a shoe, but unlike the practical, uniform footwear of his homeland. This shoe had a tall, thin projection at the heel – a completely impractical design by Regalian standards. Bart turned it over in his hands, marveling at the craftsmanship and the implications of its existence.

Energized by this find, Bart searches the area, uncovering more strange artifacts. There was a garment too long to be a shirt, yet open at the bottom – certainly not a jumpsuit. He found delicate gems with pins attached, and strings of jewels that seemed designed to encircle the neck.

Each object raised more questions than answers. Who made these items? What was their purpose? And most importantly, what did they reveal about civilization beyond the veil?

Bart carefully packed the artifacts into his bag, his mind racing with possibilities. He knew he had stumbled upon something extraordinary – evidence of a world vastly different from Regalia, yet tantalizingly real.

The journey back through the winding cave passages seemed to take forever as Bart's pulse quickened with each step. The weight of his discoveries pressed against his back, each artifact a piece of forbidden knowledge that could reshape everything he understood about life beyond the barrier. As he approached the cave's mouth, the familiar hum of Regalia's energy field grew stronger, a reminder of the carefully controlled world he would have to navigate with his newfound treasures. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the rocky terrain, promising the cover of approaching darkness for his return journey.

As Bart emerged from the cave, blinking in the bright sunlight, he nearly collided with another figure lurking near the entrance.

"George!" Bart exclaimed, recognizing his classmate. "What are you doing here?"

George, a stocky boy with an ever-present look of mischief in his eyes, grinned sheepishly. "I followed you," he admitted. "I've seen you sneaking off in this direction and got curious. What's in the cave, Bart? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Bart hesitated. George wasn't the most academically inclined student, often struggling to keep up with Regalia's rigorous standards. But he had a adventurous spirit that Bart admired, and a loyalty that made him a valuable friend.

After a moment's consideration, Bart made a decision. "George, can you keep a secret? I mean, a colossal secret?"

George's eyes widened with excitement. "Of course! You know me, Bart. I'm like a vault."

With a deep breath, Bart opened his bag and showed George the artifacts. As he explained his discoveries, he saw the same wonder and curiosity he felt reflected in his friend's eyes."

This is incredible," George whispered. "Count me in, Bart. Whatever you're planning, I want to help."

With George now part of his secret, Bart felt a renewed sense of excitement about exploring the caves. The two boys made their way deeper into the complex system, their light sources casting eerie shadows on the walls.

"Look at these markings," George said, running his hand over a series of intricate symbols etched into the rock. "They're not like anything we learn about in history class."

Bart nodded, his mind racing. "I think they might be some kind of writing system." Bart scanned the writing into his personally programed assistant.

"Assistant, Use my code breaking program and transliterate these symbols into ordinary sylang writing. Use my translation program to translate into Sylang, and keep proper names intact. Report!"

The Assistant answered in Bart's own voice." One place name, Decretia. Deduction: The writing is from Decretia, the country beyond the veil."

As they ventured further, the cave opened up into a larger chamber. Here, they found more artifacts scattered about – strange devices with no apparent purpose, fragments of clothing in vibrant colors not seen in Regalia, and what appeared to be primitive tools.

"It's like a treasure trove of another world," Bart mused, carefully examining each item. "But how did all of this get here? And why was it hidden?"

George picked up a small object that emitted a faint glow when touched. "Maybe there used to be a way through the barrier," he suggested. "Or maybe people from Decretia found a way to send things through."

The implications of either possibility are staggering. Bart and George exchanged looks of excitement and apprehension, knowing they were on the verge of uncovering secrets that could change everything they knew about their world.

As Bart and George delved deeper into the cave system, the air grew thicker and the passages narrower. They were so engrossed in their exploration that they almost missed the low, rumbling growl echoing off the stone walls.

"Did you hear that?" George whispered, his voice trembling slightly.

Before Bart could respond, a massive shape emerged from the shadows ahead. The boys froze in terror as they found themselves face to face with a mountain lion, its eyes gleaming in the dim light of their portable lamps."

Don't move," Bart hissed, his mind racing to recall everything he knew about wild animal encounters. But their Regalian education had focused little on such practical matters.

The mountain lion took a step forward, its powerful muscles tensed for action. Bart and George pressed themselves against the cave wall, the rough stone digging into their backs. They were cornered, with no clear path of escape.

"What do we do?" George whimpered, his earlier bravado evaporating in the face of real danger.

Bart's eyes darted around the cave, searching for anything that might help them. As the mountain lion crouched, preparing to pounce, Bart knew they had only seconds to act.

At that moment of extreme danger, Bart's exceptional mind kicked into overdrive. He quickly assessed their surroundings, the mountain lion's position, and the limited resources at their disposal.

"George," Bart whispered urgently, "when I say 'now,' I need you to shine your light directly into the lion's eyes and make as much noise as you can."

George nodded nervously, his hand shaking as he gripped his light source.

Bart slowly reached into his bag, feeling for one of the strange artifacts they had collected. His fingers closed around a smooth, round object – he wasn't sure what it was, but it had some weight to it.

The mountain lion's muscles bunched, ready to spring.

"NOW!" Bart yelled.

George immediately pointed his light at the predator's face and let out a piercing scream. In the same instant, Bart hurled the artifact at the cave ceiling just above the mountain lion.

The sudden light and noise startled the beast, causing it to hesitate. Then, the artifact struck the ceiling and shattered, raining debris down on the confused animal.

In the chaos that followed Bart's quick thinking, the mountain lion let out a startled roar and stumbled backward, momentarily blinded by the light and disoriented by the falling debris.

"Run!" Bart shouted, grabbing George's arm and pulling him towards a narrow side passage they had noticed earlier.

The boys scrambled through the tight opening, their hearts beating in their ears. Behind them, they could hear the mountain lion's angry snarls as it tried to shake off its confusion.

They ran through twisting tunnels, taking random turns in their desperation to put distance between themselves and the predator. After what felt like hours but was likely only minutes, they found themselves back at the main cave entrance, gasping for breath in the late afternoon sunlight."

That... was... too close," George panted, bending over with his hands on his knees.

Bart nodded, unable to speak as he tried to calm his racing heart. As the adrenaline began to subside, he realized they had managed to keep hold of their bags during their frantic escape. Their precious artifacts were safe.

"We made it, George," Bart finally said, a mixture of relief and excitement in his voice. "And wait until you see what we've found."

The boys moved swiftly through the underbrush, their pulse rates gradually slowing as they put distance between themselves and the cave entrance. Finding a sheltered alcove beneath an outcropping of weathered rocks, they paused to gather their composure. The late afternoon sun filtered through the barrier's shimmer, casting otherworldly patterns across their faces as they prepared to examine their precious cargo.

Once they had caught their breath and ensured they weren't being pursued, Bart and George found a secluded spot to examine their discoveries. They spread out the artifacts on a flat rock, marveling at the strange collection before them.

"Look at this," Bart said, holding up the shoe with the impractical heel. "Why would anyone design footwear like this? It seems more likely to cause injury than aid in walking."

George picked up the long garment with the open bottom. "And what's the purpose of this? It's too long for a shirt, but it doesn't enclose the legs like our jumpsuits."

They continued to analyze each item, proposing theories and speculating on their uses. The gems with pins attached particularly fascinated them – were they some kind of primitive fastener or perhaps decorative items?

"These things," Bart mused, holding up a string of polished stones, "seem designed to go around the neck. But why? What purpose could that serve?"

As they discussed each artifact, both boys felt a growing sense of excitement. These objects were tangible proof of a civilization vastly different from their own, with priorities and esthetics that challenged everything they had been taught in Regalia.  The most perplexing of all was a photograph of a completely different kind of human.  Could this be a woman?

The afternoon light waned as they continued their examination, their pulse quickening with each new detail they uncovered. The barrier's shimmer cast an ethereal glow over their impromptu archaeological site, while the distant hum of Regalia's systems reminded them of the dangerous secrets they now possessed. Each artifact seemed to whisper stories of a forgotten way of life, making the sterile perfection of their city feel increasingly artificial in comparison.

As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the landscape, Bart and George carefully repacked their newfound treasures.

"What do we do now?" George asked, a mix of excitement and uncertainty in his voice.

Bart furrowed his brow, deep in thought. "We need more information," he said finally. "These artifacts are incredible, but we're just guessing at their purposes and origins."

"But who can we trust?" George pointed out. "If the wrong person finds out about this, we could be in serious trouble."

Bart nodded, all too aware of the risks involved in their discovery. Then, an idea struck him. "What about Richard?" he suggested.

"Richard? The guy who flies above the veil with his father?" George asked, surprised.

"Exactly," Bart confirmed. "He's seen more of the world beyond Regalia than anyone else we know. If anyone can help us make sense of these artifacts, it's him."

George considered this for a moment, then nodded in agreement. "Alright, let's do it. When should we approach him?"

"Tomorrow," Bart decided. "We'll find a way to speak with him privately after his flight shift. Until then, we need to keep these artifacts hidden and act as normal as possible."

As they made their way back towards the city, both boys felt a mixture of anticipation and nervousness. They knew they were on the brink of something big – something that could change their understanding of the world forever.

The journey home passed in tense silence as the barrier's shimmer grew stronger against the darkening sky. Bart's pulse quickened with each step closer to Regalia's pristine streets, the weight of their discoveries pressing against his back. The artifacts seemed to grow heavier as they approached the city's outer sectors, their forbidden nature more pronounced against the backdrop of carefully regulated order. As night settled over Regalia, they parted ways with practiced casualness, each carrying a portion of their precious cargo to minimize suspicion.

That night, Bart lay in his bed, unable to sleep. His mind was racing with the events of the day – the discovery of the caves, the strange artifacts, the harrowing encounter with the mountain lion, and the decision to involve Richard in their secret.

He reached under his mattress, where he had hidden a small piece of fabric from one of the Decretian garments. The strange construction fascinated him - an engineering marvel with its elastic bands and egg-shaped supports yet decorated with intricate patterns that served no practical purpose.

The vibrant colors and floral designs stood in stark contrast to Regalia's uniform brown attire, hinting at a society that valued beauty as much as function.  His pulse quickened as he studied the garment's mysterious structure - the hook and eye closures, the thin straps positioned at precise angles, all suggesting a purpose he couldn't begin to comprehend. The forbidden artifact seemed to pulse with an energy of its own in the dim light of his room.

Just as Bart was about to return the garment to his hidden compartment of contraband texts, his door slid open. In the doorway stood Alenace, its optical sensors glowing an unusual red. But instead of its normal monitoring routine, the android spoke in a voice that was decidedly not its own:

"The woman in the photograph sends her greetings, Bartholomew Copernicus."

Destiny's Serendipity

Episode Five: Richard the Observer

A Thriller - Romance - Transgender Serial

By Jo Dora Webster

~~~~~~~~

Will Bart's investigation of Regalia's mysteries bridge the gap to the region beyond the barrier and save all on their planet?

~~~~~~~~

Bart's heart raced as he recognized the voice emanating from Alenace - it was a woman's. Through some technological feat, she had managed to hack into the android's communication systems. The garment slipped from his trembling fingers as Alenace's optical sensors flickered between red and their usual blue, suggesting a temporary override of its systems.

"I have precious little time," The woman's voice continued through the android, "but I needed you to know that the artifacts you've found - they're real. They're ours. Keep searching, keep documenting. We're closer than ever to bridging our worlds."

Before Bart could respond, Alenace's sensors returned to their normal blue, and the android resumed its standard patrol routine as if nothing had happened.

The encounter with the woman's message through Alenace ignited a fire in Bart that drove him to intensify his research. For weeks, he spent every free moment in the caves, documenting strange markings and collecting artifacts that seemed to pulse with an otherworldly energy.

Bart managed the time to have a secret meeting between himself and Richard with Richard's father listening. With a hushed voice and in secret, he swore both Richard and his father to secrecy, concerning the data that Bart had collected in the caves. At long last, they had a name to go for the mysterious region on the other side of the barrier, 'Decretia.' Bart was too high profile, so he had to trust Richard to extend his research without Bart's help.

Armed with the new research from Bart, Richard had new zeal as he served his Observer apprenticeship with his father. The pre-dawn chill crept through Richard's woolen sweater as he methodically checked the instruments laid out on his workbench. Each brass device, polished to a soft gleam, had its purpose in measuring the subtle variations of the barrier that separated their world from Decretia. His father's voice echoed from their workshop's entrance, "Time waits for no observer, son."

Richard smiled, his fingers trailing over the curved glass of their most precious tool - the ethereal resonance detector. Unlike the crude instruments used by the general populace, this delicate device could measure the smallest fluctuations in the barrier's strength. He carefully packed it into its velvet-lined case, nestling it between layers of protective padding.

"Coming, Father," he called back, gathering his notebook and pencils. The leather-bound journal was already half-filled with observations, sketches, and measurements from their previous flights. Each page contained secrets that few in their world could comprehend - the true nature of the barrier, its weaknesses, and the life that thrived beneath it.

Their airship waited in the private hangar, its sleek form barely visible in the dim light. The vessel was unlike any other, designed specifically for their work as observers. Its hull was covered in specialized materials that allowed them to fly closer to the barrier than anyone else dared. The cockpit, with its array of gauges and levers, was Richard's second home.

"Did you check the ethereal dampeners?" his father asked, already going through his own pre-flight checklist.

"Yes, and I've recalibrated them after yesterday's readings showed those unusual spikes near the eastern quadrant," Richard replied, securing his equipment in the observation bay. He paused, remembering the strange patterns they'd detected. "Father, do you think those fluctuations might be related to what Bart discovered?"

His father's expression remained neutral, but Richard caught the slight tension in his shoulders. "We observe, Richard. That's our role. Let others interpret what it means." The words were familiar - their family's motto for generations. Yet lately, Richard had begun to question whether observation alone was enough.

The morning light was starting to paint the sky in pale blue and pink as they completed their preparations. Another day of watching, measuring, and recording was about to begin. But Richard couldn't shake the feeling that today might be different. Something in the air, in the way the instruments had been behaving lately, suggested change was coming.

The pre-flight sequence was a dance Richard knew by heart. His father took the pilot's seat while Richard settled into the observer's station, his hands moving automatically across the control panel. The familiar hum of the ethereal engines filled the cabin as they powered up, a sound distinct from the crude steam engines that powered most airships.

"Dampeners at sixty percent," Richard called out, watching the delicate needle on the gauge settle into position. "Barrier sensitivity readings are normal." He adjusted a brass dial, fine-tuning their protective field. The technology that allowed them to fly so close to the barrier was a closely guarded secret, passed down through generations of observers.

Their airship lifted smoothly from the hangar, rising into the morning sky with barely a sound. Unlike the noisy commercial vessels that plied the lower altitudes, their craft were designed for stealth and precision. The hull's special coating absorbed both light and sound, making them nearly invisible to casual observers below.

"Watch the eastern approach today," his father instructed, banking the ship gently toward the rising sun. "Those fluctuations you noticed yesterday need closer study." His weathered hands moved across the controls with practiced ease, making minute adjustments to their course.

Richard activated the array of specialized sensors, each one designed to measure different aspects of the barrier. The ethereal resonance detector hummed to life, its crystal core glowing with a soft blue light. He began recording the baseline readings in his journal, noting the time and atmospheric conditions.

"Approaching optimal observation altitude," his father announced. "Initiating barrier proximity protocols." The ship's engines shifted tone, adapting to the increasing ethereal pressure. Richard felt the familiar tingling sensation that came from flying this close to the barrier, like static electricity dancing across his skin.

Through the observation windows, Richard could see the barrier's surface shimmering like heat waves rising from the summer pavement. Most people saw only a vague distortion in the air, but years of training had taught him to recognize its subtle patterns and variations. Today, the usual ripples seemed different somehow - more agitated, as if responding to some unseen force.

"Father, look at these readings," Richard said, pointing to a particularly unusual pattern on one of the gauges. "The barrier's resonance frequency is shifting. I've never seen it behave quite like this before."

His father nodded grimly, his expression thoughtful. "Record everything, Richard. Every detail matters." The unspoken question hung between them: what were they really witnessing?

At maximum observation altitude, the world below took on an otherworldly quality. The barrier stretched out beneath their airship like a vast, undulating sea of translucent silk, its surface catching and refracting the morning light in ways that defied description. Richard adjusted his specialized goggles, enhancing his ability to perceive the subtle variations in the barrier's structure.

"Look there," his father pointed, guiding Richard's attention to a particular spot where the barrier appeared thinner. "The density readings are dropping in that sector." Through their vessel's specially treated windows, they could see Decretia below, a patchwork of buildings and streets that seemed both familiar and alien at the same time.

Richard focused his instruments on the area, carefully documenting the measurements. "The barrier's only sixty percent as thick here compared to the standard readings," he noted, sketching the phenomenon in his journal. The people of Decretia moved about their daily lives below, unaware of being observed. Their forms appeared slightly distorted by the barrier, like viewing fish through rippling water.

The unique perspective their altitude provided revealed patterns in Decretian life that would be impossible to discern from ground level. Richard watched as groups of people moved through the streets in what appeared to be organized formations, their movements suggesting some sort of ritual or social custom unknown in his world. He noted how the architecture below seemed to follow spiral patterns, unlike the rigid grid systems of his own city.

"The energy signatures are strongest here," Richard murmured, adjusting the ethereal resonance detector. The device's crystals pulsed with an intense blue glow, indicating unprecedented levels of barrier activity. "It's almost as if the barrier is... breathing." The observation made his father look up sharply from the controls.

Through his enhanced goggles, Richard could make out details that would be invisible to normal observers - the way certain buildings seemed to shimmer with their own energy, how paths of force flowed through the city like invisible rivers. Most fascinating were the spots where the barrier appeared to thin naturally, creating what Richard had begun to think of as potential crossing points.

"Remember, son," his father said softly, noting Richard's intense focus, "we observe to understand, not to interfere." But Richard couldn't help wondering if understanding might sometimes require more than passive observation, especially now that he knew about Bart's discoveries. The barrier's secrets seemed to be calling to him, begging to be understood in ways that went beyond mere documentation.

Richard's pencil moved swiftly across the pages of his journal, capturing the intricate details of life below. His father maintained their holding pattern, keeping the airship steady as they documented the morning's phenomena. The observation bay's specialized instruments hummed softly, each one recording different aspects of the barrier's behavior.

"The energy patterns are shifting again," Richard noted, adjusting the ethereal resonance detector's sensitivity. Below, he could see a group of Decretians gathering in what appeared to be a market square. Their movements followed precise patterns that seemed to ripple through the barrier itself, creating subtle distortions in its fabric. "The barrier responds to their presence, Father. It's almost like a dance."

His father nodded, making a minor adjustment to their position. "Keep your distance readings steady. Remember what happened to Observer Chen when he flew too close." The warning was unnecessary - Richard knew all too well the stories of observers who had pushed their luck too far. The barrier might appear permeable from this height, but its dangers were very real.

Through his specialized goggles, Richard studied the architectural details of Decretia's buildings. Unlike the steam-powered mechanisms of his world, their technology seemed to operate on principles he was only beginning to understand. He sketched quick diagrams of what appeared to be energy conduits running between structures, noting how they pulsed with a rhythm that matched the barrier's fluctuations.

"The rose patterns we've been tracking are more prevalent today," Richard observed, marking the locations on his map. These recurring symbols had caught his attention weeks ago, appearing in everything from building decorations to the clothing worn by certain Decretians. They seemed to hold some significance he couldn't quite grasp.

His father leaned over to examine the readings. "Maintain your objectivity, Richard. Documentation without interpretation - that's our way." But Richard could hear the curiosity in his father's voice, matching his own growing fascination with the patterns emerging from their observations.

The morning light had strengthened now, making the barrier shimmer like mother-of-pearl. Richard adjusted his instruments to compensate for the changing conditions, noting how the increased solar radiation affected the barrier's transparency. His measurements showed something unprecedented - microscopic tears in the barrier's fabric, appearing and healing themselves in rhythmic cycles.

"Father," he said carefully, "I believe these readings might explain how Bart..." He let the sentence trail off, knowing he was treading dangerous ground. Their role as observers came with strict protocols about sharing information, even between themselves.

Richard turned back to his instruments, his fingers drumming absently on the brass casing as he wrestled with his conscience. The evidence was mounting with the artifacts' true purpose, and now these anomalous readings suggested something unprecedented was occurring at the barrier's edge. He knew he should maintain his observer's distance, but the weight of his secret knowledge pressed against his professional detachment. After several minutes of internal debate, he carefully filed the readings away in his locked drawer, choosing once again to keep his suspicions to himself.

The afternoon sun cast long shadows across Richard's workshop when Bart and George arrived, carrying their mysterious bundle wrapped in oilcloth. Richard had been expecting them, having noticed their approach from his window while organizing the morning's observation notes. The familiar creak of the workshop's door announced their entry.

"We've brought something you need to see," Bart said without preamble, carefully unwrapping the artifacts on Richard's workbench. The items caught the light streaming through the high windows, their surfaces showing signs of age and wear that spoke of their Decretian origin. George stood slightly back, his expression a mixture of curiosity and concern.

Richard adjusted his desk lamp, illuminating the objects more clearly. His trained eye immediately recognized subtle patterns in their construction that matched his morning observations.  The tortoise-shell tool lay there, its surface etched with familiar rose patterns that seemed to pulse faintly in the lamplight. Besides that, the cone-shaped garment's fabric showed weaving techniques he'd documented from his aerial observations.

As Richard reached for his magnifying glass, the tortoise shell began to emit a low hum. The rose patterns etched into its surface started to glow with an intense blue light, matching the exact frequency he'd recorded in his morning readings. But before he could warn Bart and George, the artifact levitated off the workbench, spinning slowly in the air as symbols none of them had ever seen before projected onto the workshop walls. Through the window behind them, the barrier flared with an answering light. 

Destiny's Serendipity

Episode Six: Observer Versus Interpreter

A Thriller - Romance - Transgender Serial

By Jo Dora Webster

~~~~~~~~

Will Bart's investigation of Regalia's mysteries bridge the gap to the region beyond the barrier and save all on their planet?

~~~~~~~~

The tortoise shell spun faster, its projected symbols merging into concentric rings that mirrored the patterns Richard had observed in Decretian market squares. The artifact's hum intensified until it reached a crescendo, then abruptly ceased. As the shell gently descended back to the workbench, the symbols faded, leaving behind a faint ethereal residue that seemed to have permanently altered the workshop walls - the rose patterns now subtly etched into the stone itself.

George and Bart exchanged stunned looks while Richard hurriedly documented the frequency readings from his instruments, knowing they had just witnessed the first documented interaction between a Decretian artifact and the barrier.

Several days passed as Richard meticulously analyzed the new markings on his workshop walls, comparing them to his years of aerial observations. Each examination revealed new layers of meaning, new connections to the barrier's behavior that he'd never fully understood before.

The late afternoon light cast long shadows across Richard's workbench as he held the tortoise shell tool up to the lamp. His fingers traced the intricate rose carvings that seemed to pulse with an inner life, responding to his touch in ways that validated years of aerial observations. The way the light caught the polished surface matched exactly the reflective properties he'd documented in Decretian architecture.

"This tool," he began, setting it down carefully, "is used in their gardens. The projections are perfectly spaced for cultivating their unique spiral-pattern plots." He pulled out his observation journal, flipping to a detailed sketch of Decretian agricultural areas. "See how the spacing matches the geometric patterns I've documented from above?"

Bart and George leaned in, their eyes moving between the artifact and Richard's precise drawings. The correlation was undeniable, yet something in Richard's voice carried a hint of uncertainty that only someone who spent hours studying subtle variations in the barrier might notice.

"And these rose carvings," Richard continued, his finger hovering over the detailed flowers, "they're not just decorative. They're markers, indicating this tool's use in their rose gardens - which, I should note, grow in perfect logarithmic spirals." He sketched a quick diagram showing the mathematical precision of Decretian horticulture, though his hand trembled slightly as he drew.

When Bart produced the cone-shaped garment with its intricate elastic bands, Richard's expression flickered momentarily. He handled it with the careful precision of someone who had seen such items only from a great distance, yet spoke about it with the confidence of an expert. "A ceremonial headdress," he declared, though his eyes lingered a fraction too long on the hooks and eyes.

The afternoon wore on as Richard explained each artifact's purpose, his knowledge seemingly boundless. Yet with each explanation, the gap between observation and understanding became more apparent to Bart. Richard's descriptions were too perfect, too precise - as if he were reciting from a script rather than sharing firsthand knowledge.

As the sun began to set, casting the workshop in amber light, Richard carefully wrapped each artifact in soft cloth, his movements betraying both reverence and uncertainty. "Remember," he said softly, "sometimes understanding comes from seeing what there isn't, as much as what is." The words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning.

Bart and George exchanged meaningful glances, absorbing Richard's cryptic wisdom. The artifacts had revealed more than just their physical properties - they had exposed gaps in Regalia's carefully constructed narrative. The tortoise shell's resonance with the barrier, the garment's otherworldly fabric, and the strange symbols they'd documented all pointed to a deeper connection between their worlds than anyone had officially acknowledged. Their silence spoke volumes as they carefully gathered their belongings, each lost in contemplation of what these revelations might mean for their search for truth.

After Bart and George's departure, Richard stood alone at his workshop window, watching their figures disappear into the gathering dusk. The weight of the day's interactions settled heavily on his shoulders as he turned back to his workbench, where traces of their visit remained - a few scattered notes, the lingering impression of the artifacts in the cloth they'd rested upon.

His hand moved to the hidden compartment beneath his desk, fingers tracing the outline of its secret latch. Inside lay his private journal, different from his official observation logs. This one contained the thoughts he couldn't share, the questions that plagued him during his daily flights above the barrier. He withdrew it carefully, its pages worn from frequent handling.

"We observe, we don't interpret," he whispered his family's motto, but the words felt hollow now. His private journal told a different story - detailed theories about the barrier's nature, carefully reasoned hypotheses about Decretian society, and most dangerously, speculations about crossing points. The morning's observations had only strengthened his suspicions about the barrier's weaknesses.

Richard opened to a fresh page and began to write, his pen moving swiftly across the paper. He documented his true thoughts about the artifacts Bart had brought, noting how they confirmed theories he'd developed but never dared to share. The rose patterns weren't just decorative or functional - they were part of a complex system of barrier manipulation that the Decretians had developed over generations.
The truth was, he knew far more than he'd revealed to Bart and George. His years of observation had given him insights that went beyond mere documentation. The barrier wasn't just a division between worlds - it was a membrane, responsive and alive in ways that his father's generation of observers had never acknowledged.

Standing in the deepening twilight, Richard made a decision. He began sketching a detailed map of the barrier's thinnest points, marking the locations where its energy patterns aligned with the rose symbols. If Bart was determined to cross over, he would need more than just artifacts and guesswork. He would need the knowledge that only an observer could provide.

"Sometimes," Richard murmured to himself, "watching isn't enough." He knew the risk he was taking, breaking generations of observer protocol. But as he looked out his window toward where the barrier shimmered faintly in the distance, he understood that some boundaries - like the barrier itself - were meant to be crossed.

Richard pulled his private journal from its hidden compartment beneath the floorboards, his fingers trembling slightly as he began to write. The words flowed quickly now, detailing not just his observations but his interpretations - the correlation between the rose patterns and barrier frequencies, the true purpose of the Decretian artifacts, and most importantly, his growing certainty that the observers' traditional role needed to change. As he wrote the final line, a soft vibration from the tortoise shell tool on his desk seemed to affirm his decision, its etched patterns glowing faintly in response to his newfound resolve.

The setting sun cast long shadows across Regalia's streets as Bart and George made their way home from Richard's workshop. Their footsteps echoed against the stone buildings, matching the rhythm of their troubled thoughts. The artifacts they'd brought to Richard were safely wrapped and hidden in Bart's satchel, but the weight of doubt hung heavier than any physical burden.

"He knew everything about them," George said, breaking the silence. "Every single detail, right down to the rose carvings on that tortoise shell tool." His voice carried a note of uncertainty that hadn't been there during their visit.

Bart nodded slowly, remembering how quickly Richard had identified each item. "Almost too perfectly, don't you think?" He pulled out the cone-shaped garment with its intricate elastic bands. "When he called this a ceremonial headdress, did you notice how his eyes lingered on the hooks and eyes?

"They paused at a corner, letting a steam-powered transport rumble past. George leaned against a lamppost, his expression thoughtful. "But he's an observer. He and his father fly above the barrier every day. Surely that gives him special knowledge?"

"Yes, but even from their airship, they're seeing everything from a great distance. The people look like ants from up there." Bart ran his fingers over the artifact's fabric. "How could he know such specific details about something so small?"

The boys resumed walking, their pace slower now as they processed their thoughts. The barrier shimmered in the distance, a constant reminder of the mysteries that lay beyond. Richard's explanations had been detailed, confident, and completely unverifiable.

"What if," Bart said carefully, "he's making it all up? What if he's just telling us what he thinks we want to hear?" The question hung in the air between them, giving voice to the doubts that had been growing since they left the workshop.

George leaned back against the clocktower wall, his fingers tracing the edges of Richard's barrier charts. The measurements were precise, detailed, reflecting years of careful observation that aligned perfectly with their cave discoveries. Yet the stark contrast between Richard's confident barrier expertise and his suspiciously vague artifact interpretations couldn't be ignored. The two friends sat in troubled silence, watching the barrier's ethereal glow pulse against the darkening sky, each lost in calculations of trust and risk.

In the flickering light of his desk lamp, Bart spread the artifacts across his worn wooden desk. The tortoise shell tool caught the lamplight, its rose carvings creating intricate shadows that danced across his journal pages. He'd been studying them for hours, long after his parents had gone to bed, comparing Richard's explanations to his own careful observations.

Taking out his magnifying glass, Bart examined the wear patterns on the shell's edge. If Richard was right about it being a gardening tool, the marks should show consistent soil abrasion. Instead, the wear seemed random, suggesting a different kind of use entirely. He sketched the patterns in his notebook, adding detailed notes about the discrepancies.

The cone-shaped garment posed even more questions. Richard's explanation of it being a ceremonial headdress didn't account for the peculiar elasticity of its material or the precise spacing of its bands. Bart stretched one of the bands carefully, watching how it caught the light. The fabric seemed to respond to his touch in ways that suggested a more practical purpose.

"A headdress wouldn't need these reinforced sections," he muttered, marking another contradiction in his notes. The more he studied the artifacts, the more Richard's confident explanations began to unravel. Yet something else nagged at him - Richard's detailed knowledge of the barrier itself had rung true, even as his artifact interpretations felt fabricated.

Bart pulled out his map of the cave system where they'd found the items. He began marking the locations of each discovery, looking for patterns that might reveal their true purpose. The rose symbols appeared at regular intervals, forming a geometric pattern that seemed to point toward something - but what?

As the night grew deeper, Bart's notes filled page after page, each observation adding to his certainty that Richard was hiding something. The question was no longer whether the observer was being entirely truthful, but why he felt the need to deceive them about these particular objects.

Exhausted, Bart finally set down his pen and leaned back in his chair. The tortoise shell's rose patterns seemed to mock him with their secrets, glowing faintly in the lamplight. His mind wandered to Richard's detailed barrier charts - their precision and accuracy stood in stark contrast to his vague, almost dismissive explanations of the artifacts. Something about the observer's dual nature - precise scientist and evasive mentor - suggested he wasn't just protecting observer protocols, but guarding a truth that could reshape their understanding of both worlds1.

Richard sat at his workbench, the soft glow of his ethereal lamp illuminating two open journals before him. The official observer's log lay on the left, filled with precise measurements and approved documentation. On the right, his private journal held the truth - or at least, the parts of it he dared to write down.

His pen hovered over the private journal as he contemplated the day's events. "Bart suspects," he wrote finally, the words flowing quickly now. "His questions about the artifacts were too precise, too probing. He's testing my knowledge." The admission felt both frightening and liberating on the page.

Rising from his desk, Richard moved to the wall where his barrier measurements hung in neat rows. Each chart showed the same pattern - increasing instability in the barrier's structure, particularly around the areas where Bart had found the artifacts. He traced the lines with his finger, following the rose-pattern fluctuations that matched exactly with the symbols on the tortoise shell.

"I could tell them everything," he whispered to the empty workshop. "About the barrier's weaknesses, about what these tools really do." But generations of observer protocol held him back. His father's voice echoed in his mind: "We observe, we don't interpret."

Returning to his desk, Richard pulled out a fresh sheet of paper and began drawing detailed diagrams of the barrier's structure. These, at least, he could share without breaking protocol. The boys needed to understand the barrier before they could understand the artifacts' true purpose.
His lamp flickered as he worked, casting dancing shadows across the walls. Each shadow seemed to mock his position - neither fully observer nor interpreter, caught between duty and necessity. In his heart, he knew the time would come when he'd have to choose a side.

"Perhaps," he wrote in his private journal, "being an observer means knowing when to stop simply watching." The words felt like a confession, a break from everything his family had taught him. But as he looked at his barrier measurements again, he knew there was no going back.
Richard spent the next hour meticulously copying his most crucial barrier observations into a separate notebook, one he would share with Bart and George. His hands moved swiftly across the pages, translating years of aerial measurements into ground-level guidance that would help them understand the barrier's weaknesses. The rose patterns from the tortoise shell seemed to glow more intensely as he worked, as if responding to his decision to break with tradition. When he finally set down his pen, the weight of generations of observer protocol felt lighter than the truth he now carried.

Afternoon sunlight streamed through Richard's workshop windows as Bart and George carefully unpacked their latest discoveries. A cylindrical device with spiral etchings and what appeared to be a crystalline lens caught the light, sending rainbow refractions across the wooden workbench. Richard's expression remained carefully neutral, though his fingers twitched slightly at the sight.

"We found these deeper in the cave system," Bart explained, watching Richard's face intently. "The crystal seems to respond to touch." He demonstrated by placing his finger on the lens, which emitted a faint blue glow.

Richard picked up the device with practiced care, but Bart noticed how he held it at a slight angle, as if uncertain of its proper orientation. "This is a measurement tool," Richard began, his voice steady. "The spirals align with the barrier's natural frequencies to—"

"How does it work?" George interrupted, more directly than usual. "Could you show us?"

A fleeting expression of discomfort crossed Richard's face before he composed himself. "These devices are quite delicate," he deflected, setting it down carefully. "But I can show you something more useful." He turned to his observation charts, pointing to a series of wave patterns. "These show how the barrier's strength fluctuates throughout the day."

As Richard reached for his morning's readings, the crystal suddenly flared with intense light. The spiral etchings began rotating on their own, aligning themselves toward the barrier. Through the workshop window, they could see the ethereal wall pulsing in sync with the crystal's movements. But what made their blood run cold was the voice that emerged from the device - distinctly feminine, speaking in a language none of them recognized, yet somehow familiar to their ears.

Destiny's Serendipity

Episode Seven: Honesty Wins

A Thriller - Romance - Transgender Serial

By Jo Dora Webster

~~~~~~~~

Will Bart's investigation of Regalia's mysteries bridge the gap to the region beyond the barrier and save all on their planet?

~~~~~~~~

The crystalline device's voice grew clearer, its otherworldly tones resolving into a rhythmic pattern that matched the barrier's fluctuations. Richard's hands moved swiftly across his instruments, recording the unprecedented frequencies as the feminine voice continued its ethereal message. After exactly three minutes, the crystal's light dimmed, and the voice faded into silence, leaving behind an inexplicable warmth in the air. George quickly sketched the final position of the spiral etchings while Bart transcribed what he could remember of the sound patterns.

Richard stood motionless, his face pale with the realization that this was no mere measurement tool - it was a communication device.

Several days passed as Richard wrestled with this revelation, his observer's training warring with the undeniable evidence of direct contact from across the barrier. His sleepless nights were spent comparing the crystal's frequencies to his years of barrier measurements, searching for patterns that might explain the voice's appearance.

When Bart arrived at Richard's workshop alone this time, carrying a small wooden box, the afternoon light filtered through dust motes as he placed it carefully on Richard's workbench. Inside lay an artifact they'd found weeks ago - a simple metal disc with concentric circles etched into its surface. But Bart had prepared his trap carefully.

"We think this might be some kind of navigational device," Bart said, deliberately misidentifying the object they'd previously determined was likely a cooking implement. "The markings seem to align with star patterns we've observed along the barrier."

Richard lifted the disc, turning it in the light. For a moment, something flickered in his eyes - recognition, perhaps, or uncertainty. His fingers traced the circular patterns as he had done with all their previous finds.

"Actually," he began with his usual confidence, "this is an astronomical calculation tool. The Decretians use it to track celestial movements through the barrier's distortion field."

Bart watched carefully as Richard launched into a detailed explanation of how the concentric circles represented different stellar orbits, complete with references to his morning observations. The explanation was perfect, logical, and entirely fabricated.

"Interesting," Bart said, keeping his voice neutral. "We found some residue on it that looked like food particles. Could it have had another purpose?"

Richard's hands stilled momentarily. A barely perceptible shift in his posture betrayed his discomfort. "Well," he recovered quickly, "many Decretian tools serve multiple purposes. Their efficiency in design often means..."

He continued speaking, but Bart had already confirmed his suspicions.

The afternoon sun cast Richard's shadow long across the workshop floor as he elaborated on increasingly complex theories about the disc's astronomical applications. Each explanation was more detailed than the last, yet none addressed the obvious signs of heat damage and food residue that marked it as a cooking tool.

"Thank you," Bart interrupted finally, carefully returning the disc to its box. "Your insights are always... illuminating."

The word choice was deliberate, watching how Richard reacted to the subtle emphasis.

As he packed up to leave, Bart noticed Richard's eyes drift toward his barrier measurement charts - the one area where his expertise never wavered, where his passion and knowledge seemed genuinely rooted in years of careful observation.

The contrast was striking, and in that moment, Bart understood something crucial about their mysterious ally: Richard's deceptions about the artifacts might be elaborate, but his understanding of the barrier itself was real - and potentially invaluable.

Bart gathered his materials with deliberate slowness, his mind racing through the implications. Each of Richard's barrier measurements had aligned perfectly with their cave discoveries, suggesting a deeper pattern they had yet to fully grasp. As he stepped out of the workshop into the fading afternoon light, the barrier's ethereal glow seemed to pulse in sync with his racing thoughts, as if confirming his revelation about their enigmatic mentor's dual nature.

Bart and George sat in their usual spot beneath the old clock tower, its massive gears turning steadily above them as they processed the events of the past few days. The setting sun painted the barrier in shades of purple and gold, its surface rippling with the mysterious energy they now understood better thanks to Richard's genuine expertise.

"He's lying about the artifacts," Bart said finally, breaking their contemplative silence. "The cooking disc proved it. But his barrier knowledge..." He pulled out Richard's detailed charts of barrier fluctuations, spreading them on the weathered wooden bench between them.

George nodded, examining the precise measurements and annotations. "These match everything we've observed in the caves. The energy patterns, the rose symbols, even the timing of the barrier's weakest points." He traced a particularly complex wave pattern with his finger. "You can't fake this level of understanding."

"So we're working with someone who's both helping and deceiving us," Bart mused, watching a steam-powered airship pass beneath the barrier's shimmer. "The question is: can we trust him enough to continue?"

The clock tower's bells chimed the hour, their deep resonance filling the evening air. George pulled out their cave map, now marked with Richard's barrier measurements. "Look at how his observations align with our discovery sites. He might be hiding what he knows about the artifacts, but he's giving us something possibly more valuable."

"A way through," Bart finished the thought. The map showed clear patterns where the barrier's strength ebbed and flowed, information that only an experienced observer could provide. "Maybe that's why he won't be honest about the artifacts - he's already breaking observer protocols by helping us understand the barrier."

They sat in silence for a moment, weighing their options. The barrier shimmered before them, both barrier and bridge to their goal. Finally, George spoke: "We need him. Even if he won't tell us everything, his barrier knowledge is essential. We just need to be careful about what we accept as truth."

Bart gathered their materials, his decision made. "We'll continue working with him, but on our terms. We'll use his barrier expertise, but trust our own judgment about the artifacts." He paused, looking up at the barrier's ethereal glow. "And maybe, eventually, we'll understand why he feels he needs to hide what he really knows."

The clock tower's shadow stretched across the square as they packed up their notes. Their path forward was clear, if complicated - they would navigate not just the barrier's mysteries, but also the complex web of trust and deception that Richard represented. As they headed home, both boys understood that their journey had become more intricate than ever, balancing between knowledge freely given and truths carefully concealed.

Days passed as Bart and George refined their strategy, carefully documenting every discrepancy between Richard's barrier expertise and his suspicious artifact knowledge. The evening air grew thick with steam from passing airships as they finalized their plan to confront him. They needed his unparalleled understanding of the barrier's frequencies, but they would no longer accept his evasions about the Decretian artifacts at face value.

Bart and George return to Richard's workshop. They found him at his workbench, meticulously updating his barrier measurements by lamplight. The unexpected visit made him look up sharply, his pen freezing mid-stroke.

"We need to talk," Bart said, closing the workshop door behind them. "About why we're really here, and why the truth matters so much." He placed their research journal on the bench, its pages dog-eared and worn from constant use.

George stepped forward. His expression was unusually serious. "My father makes his living as a communicator of citizen initiatives." he began, his voice catching slightly, "If I am found out pursuing the real truth instead of the carefully constructed coverup, he could lose his job." The admission hung heavy in the workshop's quiet air. "Our world may end if we don't find the answers that we need.... they're in Decretia."

Richard set down his pen, his observer's mask slipping slightly as understanding dawned in his eyes.

"And my father," Bart continued, opening their journal to show Richard their careful documentation, "he's the First Scientist who always has to have all the right answers. Before I bring anything to him, it has to be triple checked. Everything we're doing - the cave exploration, the artifacts, understanding the barrier - it's all to save the people we love."

Richard's eyes widened as he absorbed the weight of Bart and George's confessions. He leaned back in his chair, the lamplight casting long shadows across his face. "I see," he said softly, his fingers tracing the edge of their research journal. "You've been testing me all along, haven't you?"

Bart nodded, his shoulders tense. "We had to be sure, Richard. This isn't just about satisfying our curiosity. It's about the future of Regalia itself."

George stepped closer, his voice low and urgent. "Every piece of information we gather, every theory we test, it's all a potential key to unlocking the mysteries of the barrier and what lies beyond. But we can't afford to be wrong. Not when so much is at stake."

Richard's gaze flickered between the two young men, a mix of emotions playing across his face. "I understand the risk you're taking," he said slowly. "But you must realize that by involving me, you're putting me at risk as well. If your fathers or anyone else in power were to discover our activities..."

"We know," Bart interrupted, his voice firm. "That's why we've been so cautious, why we've questioned everything you've told us. It's not personal, Richard. It's about ensuring that every piece of information we gather is as close to the truth as possible."

George nodded in agreement. "We're walking a tightrope here. One misstep, one piece of faulty data, and we could send Regalia down the wrong path. We need to separate real, verifiable facts from mere speculation or guesswork."

Richard stood up, pacing the length of his workshop. The floorboards creaked under his feet as he processed their words. "You believe this knowledge could save Regalia," he mused, more to himself than to them. "But from what?"

Bart and George exchanged a glance. "We're not entirely sure," Bart admitted. "But the signs are there. The increasing instability of the barrier, the strange artifacts we've found, the discrepancies in the official records... Something's coming, Richard. Something big."

George added, "And we believe the answers lie in Decretia. The true history of our world, the real purpose of the barrier - it's all hidden there, just waiting to be uncovered."

Richard stopped pacing, turning to face them. His expression was unreadable, but there was a new intensity in his eyes. "You're right," he said finally. "The truth does matter. More than you know." He walked back to his workbench and pulled out a hidden drawer. From it, he retrieved a small, intricately carved box.

"I haven't been entirely honest with you either," Richard confessed, his fingers hovering over the box's latch. "There are things I know, things I've seen, that I've kept to myself. Not out of malice, but out of fear and uncertainty."

Bart and George leaned in, their eyes fixed on the mysterious box. Richard's hand trembled slightly as he continued, "But you're right. The future of Regalia hangs in the balance. And if we're to have any hope of saving it, we need to put all our cards on the table."

With a deep breath, Richard opened the box, revealing its contents to Bart and George. Their gasps echoed in the workshop as they realized that their quest for truth was about to take an unexpected and potentially dangerous turn.

"What you see here," Richard said gravely, "is just the beginning. The real journey - and the real risks - start now. Are you ready for what comes next?"

Bart and George exchanged a determined look. They had come this far in their pursuit of the truth. There was no turning back now. Whatever secrets Richard's box held, whatever dangers lay ahead, they were committed to seeing this through. For their families, for Regalia, and for the truth that could save them all.

The next few days passed in a blur of preparation and planning. Bart spent hours in his hidden study, reviewing their collected evidence and cross-referencing it with the strange patterns they'd observed in Richard's behavior. His fingers traced the key hanging beneath his nightshirt, a reminder of all the forbidden knowledge that had led them to this moment. The dual energies within him seemed to resonate with their impending confrontation, as if both Regalia and Decretia themselves were holding their breath in anticipation of what was to come.

The night was unusually quiet as Bart and George made their way back to the workshop, their minds still reeling from the revelations Richard had shared. The air was thick with anticipation, each step echoing their unspoken fears and hopes.

As they approached the workshop, a strange glow emanated from the windows, casting eerie shadows on the ground. Bart exchanged a wary glance with George before pushing the door open, revealing a sight that made them both freeze in their tracks.

In the center of the room, hovering above Richard's workbench, was a pulsating orb of light. It shimmered with an otherworldly energy, its surface swirling with colors that defied description. Richard stood transfixed before it, his face a mask of disbelief and awe.

"What is that?" Bart whispered, his voice barely audible over the hum of the orb.

Richard shook his head slowly, his eyes never leaving the mysterious object. "I... I don't know," he admitted, his voice tinged with a mix of fear and fascination. "This wasn't here before. It's like nothing I've ever seen."

George stepped forward cautiously, his curiosity piqued despite the danger. "Could it be related to the artifacts? Or the barrier?"

Richard hesitated, his mind racing to find an explanation. "It's possible," he conceded, "but it doesn't match any of the data or theories we've developed so far. This changes everything."

Bart felt a chill run down his spine. The orb's presence was both mesmerizing and terrifying, a tangible reminder of how little they truly understood. "If this is real," he said slowly, "then everything we've been working on, everything you've told us, could be wrong."

The weight of his words hung in the air, a silent challenge to Richard's authority and knowledge. The orb pulsed brighter, as if responding to Bart's doubts, casting long shadows that danced across the walls.

Richard turned to face them, his expression a mix of determination and uncertainty. "We need to study this," he said firmly, "but we must be careful. This could be the key to everything, or it could be something far more dangerous."

Without warning, the orb shot out a beam of light, striking the barrier map on Richard's desk. The parchment began to glow, intricate patterns and symbols appearing on its surface that had never been there before.

Destiny's Serendipity

Episode Eight: Military Excellence

A Thriller - Romance - Transgender Serial

By Jo Dora Webster

~~~~~~~~

Will Bart's investigation of Regalia's mysteries bridge the gap to the region beyond the barrier and save all on their planet?

~~~~~~~~

Richard rushed to the map, his hands trembling as he traced the newly revealed markings. "This is impossible," he muttered, his voice a mix of awe and disbelief. "These symbols... they're not from any language I've ever encountered. "

With a look of recognition of the symbols by both Bart and George, it was George who spoke first. "Bart, please run this through your assistant, like you did with the cave writing."

"Of course!" answered Bart as he got to work on the symbols. This time, he was able to give them a complete translation. All three were speechless as they read the message.

"I hope my data helps. You are on the correct path to truth. — A friend" The orb disappeared without a trace, but the new data and the message remained. They agreed that this collaboration was the start of something big. The three went out into the night after securing their new data.

Their hearts raced with excitement as they walked home through the quiet streets, their minds whirling with possibilities. The mysterious message and data felt like the first pieces of an enormous puzzle finally falling into place. As the night deepened around them, each silently contemplated how their lives might change now that they had stumbled onto something far bigger than themselves. None of them slept much that night, too energized by the discovery and too anxious to see what the next day would bring. Hours passed in restless anticipation until the first hints of dawn began to paint the sky.

The sun had barely risen over the military compound when the sound of clashing swords and barked orders filled the air. In the main training yard, two young men moved with practiced precision, their blades flashing in the early morning light. These were Raymond's other sons - Bruce and Robert - each a paragon of military excellence in their own right.

Bruce, the eldest, led a group of recruits through a complex series of sword drills. His movements were fluid and graceful, yet carried an undeniable power. "Watch your footwork!" he called out, demonstrating a particularly tricky maneuver. "Your blade is an extension of your arm, but your feet are your foundation. Neglect either, and you'll fall."

Nearby, Robert oversaw archery practice. His keen eye spotted the slightest imperfection in stance or aim. "Breathe, Cadet Johnson," he instructed, adjusting a young archer's elbow. "Feel the tension in the bow, become one with your arrow." As if to demonstrate, he readied an arrow of his own, drew back, and released in one fluid motion. The arrow whistled through the air, splitting the target dummy's head clean in two.

From his vantage point on the command balcony, Raymond watched his sons with pride. Each had risen through the ranks on their own merit, earning the respect of their peers and subordinates alike. They were living proof of the military tradition that ran strong in their family's blood.

As the morning progressed, a messenger approached Raymond, handing him a sealed message. His brow furrowed as he read its contents, his eyes darting to an empty space in the training yard where his third son, Bart, should have been.

"Sir," the messenger ventured, "shall I inform the other officers of Cadet Bartholomew's absence?"

Raymond's jaw tightened, his eyes never leaving the scene below. "No," he said after a long moment. "I'll handle this myself. For now, let's focus on the excellence before us."

As if on cue, Bruce executed a perfect disarming maneuver, sending his opponent's sword clattering to the ground. Robert's archers loosed a volley that turned their targets into pincushions.

Raymond nodded, a mix of pride and concern etched on his face. "Military excellence indeed," he murmured. "But what of the son who seems to march to a different drum?" His gaze turned towards the city, wondering what could have kept Bart from his duties, and what consequences would follow this unexpected absence.

The contrast between Bruce and Robert's dedication and Bart's absence hung heavy in the air. Raymond couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment, even as he marveled at the achievements of his other sons. The military compound buzzed with activity, but for Raymond, the most pressing issue was the conspicuous void left by Bart's unexplained absence.

The parade grounds bustled with activity as soldiers from various units assembled for drill practice. The air was thick with anticipation and the sharp scent of polished leather and metal. Colonel Hawthorne, a seasoned veteran with a voice that could cut through the din of battle, stood at the center of the field, surveying the gathering troops with a critical eye.

"Company, attention!" he bellowed, and as one, hundreds of boots snapped together with a thunderous report. "Today, we prepare for the annual Regalia Military Parade. This is not just a show for the civilians, gentlemen. It is a demonstration of our discipline, our unity, and our unwavering commitment to the defense of our great nation!"

Rows upon rows of soldiers stood at rigid attention, their eyes fixed forward, bodies taut with readiness. Among them, Bruce and Robert stood out, their posture impeccable, their uniforms immaculate. They were living examples of the standard every soldier aspired to meet.

Colonel Hawthorne began barking out commands, and the parade ground came alive with movement. Platoons marched in intricate patterns, their steps in perfect synchronization. The sound of hundreds of feet moving as one echoed across the field, a testament to hours of rigorous practice.

In a corner of the grounds, a group of soldiers meticulously polished their ceremonial weapons and adjusted their dress uniforms. Every button was shined to a mirror surface, every crease sharp enough to cut paper. The attention to detail was painstaking, but necessary – in the parade, even the smallest imperfection could be noticed.

As the morning wore on, the complexity of the drills increased. Soldiers executed precise turns and formations, creating living geometric patterns on the parade ground. Flag bearers practiced their routines, unfurling the colors of Regalia in sweeping arcs that caught the sunlight.

Amidst the coordinated chaos, Colonel Hawthorne's keen eye spotted a gap in one of the formations. He frowned, consulting his roster. "Where is Cadet Bartholomew?" he muttered, his eyes scanning the ranks for Raymond's youngest son.

The absence was glaring, a disruption in the otherwise perfect order of the drill. As whispers began to circulate among the troops, Colonel Hawthorne made a mental note to address this issue with Raymond. For now, though, there was a parade to prepare for."

Adjust formation!" he ordered, and the troops seamlessly closed the gap left by Bart's absence. The drill continued, but the question lingered in the air – where was Bart, and what could be more important than his duty? As the sun climbed higher in the sky, the parade ground continued to pulse with activity, a living testament to the military excellence that Regalia prided itself on. Yet, for those who knew how to look, there was a small but significant piece missing from this display of precision and discipline.

Cadet Bartholemew Copernicus, usually front and center during morning drills, was conspicuously absent from his post. His fellow cadets exchanged knowing glances but maintained their stoic expressions as training continued without him. The whispers of his unexplained absence rippled through the ranks like a subtle current, though none dared voice their concerns aloud. As the morning progressed, the gap where he should have stood seemed to grow more noticeable, a void that spoke volumes about the changes brewing beneath Regalia's carefully maintained surface. The day marched forward with mechanical precision, yet that single disruption in the usual routine hinted at deeper currents of dissent moving through the ranks

As the military compound buzzed with activity, Bart found himself in a secluded corner of the city, far from the parade grounds. His uniform lay neatly folded in his quarters, a silent accusation of his dereliction of duty. Instead, he wore civilian clothes, his face partially obscured by a hood as he made his way through the winding streets of Regalia's old town.

Bart's heart raced, torn between the weight of his responsibilities and the urgency of his current mission. In his hand, he clutched a small, intricately carved box – the same one Richard had revealed to him and George just days ago. Its contents had shaken their understanding of Regalia and the barrier to the core, and Bart couldn't shake the feeling that time was running out.

As he approached a nondescript building, Bart glanced over his shoulder, ensuring he wasn't followed. He knocked on the door in a specific pattern, waiting with bated breath until it creaked open, revealing a dimly lit interior.
"You're late," a gruff voice greeted him. The speaker, an older man with a scarred face and piercing eyes, ushered Bart inside quickly.

"I'm sorry, Erion," Bart replied, his voice low. "It wasn't easy to slip away unnoticed. Especially today."

Erion raised an eyebrow. "Ah yes, the grand parade. Your absence will be noted, young Bartholomew."

Bart winced at the reminder but pressed on. "What I've discovered... it's worth the risk. We need to decipher this now." He placed the box on a table cluttered with maps and strange instruments. As Erion examined the box's contents, Bart's mind wandered to the parade grounds. He could almost hear the rhythmic marching, see the gleaming uniforms, and feel the pride radiating from his father and brothers. The guilt gnawed at him, but he pushed it aside. This was bigger than military drills and family expectations.
\
"This is... extraordinary," Erion muttered, his eyes wide as he studied the artifacts. "Where did you get this?"

"That's not important right now," Bart deflected. "Can you make sense of it?"

Erion frowned, his fingers tracing the strange symbols. "It will take time. And Bart," he looked up, his expression grave, "if this is what I think it is, it could change everything we thought we knew about Regalia and the barrier."

Bart nodded solemnly. "I know. That's why I'm here instead of at the parade. But Erion, we need answers fast. I don't know how long I can keep this secret."

As they bent over the mysterious artifacts, Bart couldn't help but think of the consequences awaiting him back at the compound. His absence would not go unnoticed or unpunished.

But as he watched Erion work, deciphering the clues that could unlock the truth about their world, Bart knew he had made the right choice. The future of Regalia might depend on what they discovered here, in this dusty room, far from the pomp and circumstance of military parades.

Across the city, the military ceremony was already underway, its precise rhythms marking the passage of time like a metronome. The morning sun climbed higher as Bart delved deeper into the mysteries before him, each moment spent away from his post adding to the weight of his decision. His fellow cadets would notice his absence by now, and soon the questions would begin.

Yet here, amid ancient texts and cryptic data, he felt closer to the truth than he had ever been on that parade ground. The consequences of his choice would come soon enough, but for now, the pursuit of knowledge demanded his complete attention.

The parade ground fell silent as Colonel Hawthorne's sharp eyes scanned the formations. The absence in the third row of the honor guard was glaringly obvious, a void in the otherwise perfect lines of soldiers. He frowned, his mustache twitching with disapproval.

"Lieutenant," he barked, summoning a nearby officer. "Where is Cadet Bartholomew?"

The lieutenant swallowed hard, his eyes darting nervously. "Sir, Cadet Bartholomew has not reported for duty. We've checked his quarters and the infirmary, but there's no sign of him."

Colonel Hawthorne's frown deepened. "Inform First Scientist Raymond Copernicus immediately. This is most irregular."

As word spread through the ranks, a ripple of whispers and sideways glances disrupted the disciplined atmosphere. Bruce and Robert, standing at attention in their respective units, exchanged a brief, concerned look. Their brother's absence was not just a personal failing; it reflected on the entire family.

In the observatory tower overlooking the parade ground, First Scientist Raymond Copernicus received the news with a stony expression. His assistant watched nervously as Raymond's fingers tightened around the brass telescope he had been adjusting.

"Sir," the assistant ventured, "shall we delay the parade?"

Raymond's jaw clenched. "Absolutely not. The parade will proceed as planned. Rearrange the formations to cover Bartholomew's absence."

As the assistant hurried to relay the orders, Raymond's mind raced. Where could Bart be? What could possibly be more important than his duty, especially on a day like this? The disappointment and anger warred within him, tempered by a flicker of worry he couldn't quite suppress.

Down on the parade ground, the troops scrambled to adjust their formations. Bruce took charge of his unit, barking orders to close ranks and maintain precision. Robert, leading the archers, ensured his team's focus remained unshaken by the commotion.

As the drums began to beat and the parade commenced, the absence of one cadet was hardly noticeable to the cheering crowds. But to those who knew, to the family that prided itself on both scientific and military excellence, it was a glaring failure that would have far-reaching consequences. Colonel Hawthorne, marching at the head of the parade, couldn't shake the feeling that this was more than a simple case of dereliction of duty. In his years of service, he had come to trust his instincts. And right now, those instincts were telling him that Cadet Bartholomew's absence was just the tip of a much larger, more complex iceberg.

As the parade wound its way through the streets of Regalia, the question hung in the air, unspoken but omnipresent: Where was Bart, and what could be important enough to risk everything he had worked for?

Raymond Copernicus, watching from his lofty perch, felt the weight of both his scientific responsibilities and paternal concerns pressing down on him, as he pondered the implications of his son's mysterious absence.

Below the observatory, the military ceremony continued with mechanical precision, each unit moving through their practiced routines like the gears of a well-oiled machine. The sharp commands of officers cut through the morning air as formations shifted and changed with fluid grace. Raymond's keen scientific mind couldn't help but appreciate the mathematical perfection of the movements, even as his thoughts drifted repeatedly to the conspicuous absence in the ranks. His hands gripped the brass railing of his observation post, knuckles whitening as he forced himself to focus on the spectacle unfolding before him rather than the growing void of questions surrounding his youngest son's disappearance.

As the parade reached its crescendo, Bruce and Robert's units took center stage, showcasing the pinnacle of Regalia's military prowess. Bruce led his infantry in a flawless display of close-order drill, their movements so precise it seemed as if they were a single organism rather than individual soldiers. The crowd gasped in awe as the formation seamlessly transformed from one complex pattern to another, each transition smoother than the last.

Robert, not to be outdone, commanded his archers in a breathtaking demonstration of skill and coordination. At his signal, a volley of arrows arced high into the sky, their fletching catching the sunlight. The arrows descended in perfect unison, striking targets arranged throughout the parade ground with pinpoint accuracy. The spectators erupted in cheers as the archers quickly nocked and fired again, creating an intricate aerial dance of shafts and feathers.

From his vantage point, First Scientist Raymond Copernicus watched his sons' performance with a mixture of pride and unease. Their excellence was undeniable, a testament to the family's dedication to both scientific and military pursuits. Yet, the empty space where Bart should have been nagged at him, a visible reminder of the growing distance between him and his youngest son.

As the crowd's applause echoed through the streets of Regalia, Raymond couldn't help but wonder: while Bruce and Robert were here, upholding the family's honor, what path was Bart choosing? And would that path lead him closer to the family's legacy, or further away?
 

Destiny's Serendipity

Episode Nine: Missing

A Thriller - Romance - Transgender Serial

By Jo Dora Webster

~~~~~~~~

Will Bart's investigation of Regalia's mysteries bridge the gap to the region beyond the barrier and save all on their planet?

~~~~~~~~

Raymond's question would be answered sooner than he expected, though not in a way that would ease his troubled mind. Even as the last echoes of applause faded from the streets, his youngest son was delving deeper into forbidden knowledge that would shake the very foundations of their society.

In a hidden corner of the city, far from military pageantry, Bart was making discoveries that would force him to choose between family loyalty and what he believed to be right - a choice that would ripple through generations of Regalia's carefully ordered society. The celebration's jubilant mood dissipated like morning mist as reports of Bart's absence reached the senior officers.

What had begun as whispers of concern among the cadets quickly escalated into a serious matter requiring immediate attention? The perfect formations and synchronized movements that had moments ago demonstrated Regalia's strength now seemed to mock their inability to keep track of one of their own. As the last civilians drifted away from the parade grounds, Colonel Hawthorne's expression darkened with each passing minute, his military precision turning from display to determination as he prepared to address this unprecedented breach of protocol. 

As the parade concluded, the atmosphere at the military compound shifted from celebration to concern. Colonel Hawthorne assembled a small team of officers in the command center, their faces grave as they discussed Bart's unexplained absence.

"We need to locate Cadet Bartholomew immediately," Hawthorne declared, his voice tight with urgency. "This isn't just about missing a parade. It's about the integrity of our entire unit."

The officers spread out across the compound, questioning Bart's fellow cadets and searching his quarters for any clues. In the barracks, they found his neatly pressed uniform laid out on his bunk, as if he had intended to wear it but changed his mind at the last moment.

One of Bart's classmates, a young cadet named Jenkins, nervously approached an officer. "Sir," he said hesitantly, "Bart's been acting strange lately. Sneaking out at odd hours, whispering with that friend of his from the science division."

The officer's eyebrows were raised. "Friend from the science division? Do you have a name?"

Jenkins shook his head. "No, sir. But I've seen them together a few times, always looking over their shoulders like they didn't want to be seen."

As the search continued, the mystery deepened. Bart seemed to have vanished without a trace, leaving behind more questions than answers. The officers exchanged worried glances, aware that this situation was quickly becoming more than just a case of dereliction of duty.

Colonel Hawthorne dispatched search teams throughout the city, their methodical sweeps extending from the military district to the outer reaches of Regalia. Each report that came back empty only heightened the growing sense of unease among the command staff. What had begun as a simple disciplinary matter was evolving into something far more concerning - especially given the Copernicus family's prominent position in Regalian society? As the afternoon sun began to wane, the search teams were recalled, their failure to locate the missing cadet casting a long shadow over the day's earlier celebrations.

The Copernicus family quarters were unusually quiet that evening, the tension palpable as Raymond sat in his study, reviewing reports from the day. The success of the parade should have filled him with pride, but Bart’s absence loomed over everything, casting a shadow on what should have been a triumphant day.

Bruce and Robert entered the room, still dressed in their ceremonial uniforms, their faces reflecting a mix of pride and concern. Bruce spoke first, his voice steady but tinged with irritation.

“Father, we need to talk about Bart. His absence today wasn’t just a personal failure—it’s an embarrassment to the family.” Robert nodded in agreement, with his tone more measured.

"People noticed, Father. The officers are asking questions. Colonel Hawthorne is already investigating."

Raymond sighed heavily, setting down the report he had been pretending to read. “I’m aware,” he said, his voice low and firm. “But this is not a matter for public discussion. Whatever Bart’s reasons, they are his to explain when he returns.”

Bruce frowned, his frustration evident. “With all due respect, Father, this isn’t just about Bart anymore. His actions reflect on all of us—on you, especially. We’ve worked hard to uphold the Copernicus name in both science and service. He’s jeopardizing that.”

Raymond’s gaze hardened as he looked at his eldest son. “I understand your concerns,” he said sharply.

"But Bart is still my son and your brother. I will handle this matter very privately."

The room fell silent for a moment before Robert spoke again, his voice softer. “Do you think he’s in trouble? That something happened to him?”

Raymond hesitated, the worry he had been suppressing flickering across his face for just a moment before he steeled himself again. “I don’t know,” he admitted quietly. “But wherever Bart is, I intend to find out—and soon.”

The tension remained thick as Bruce and Robert exchanged uneasy glances before leaving the study. Alone once more, Raymond leaned back in his chair, staring into the dim light of the room. For all his authority and intellect, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something far larger than a missed parade was unfolding—and that Bart was at its center.

The weight of discovery and duty warred in Raymond's mind as the evening shadows lengthened across his study. His scientific instincts, honed through years of research, detected patterns in his youngest son's recent behavior that suggested a deeper mystery.

As he contemplated the implications, the familiar rhythms of military life continued outside his window, a stark contrast to the uncertainty that now clouded his thoughts. At that moment of solitude, Raymond didn't know that, across the city, his suspicions were about to be confirmed in ways that would challenge everything he thought he knew about Regalia.

Bart was about to make a hasty retreat back to the military parade grounds. Before leaving the room where Erion still worked on the data, his assistant spoke.

"Alert. The second message on a secondary wave emitted by the probe, is decoded. The message consists of a video. Do you wish to play?"

"Erion, the probe emitted a video message. Shall we view it?"

"By all means, Bart. Play it."

"Assistant, begin playback."

The video began playing. The video played on Erion's large monitor. A human figure was displayed on a featureless blurred background. With Bart's extensive research at the incubator archives, he immediately made the association of the figure and the medical diagrams and descriptions.

"She's a woman!" Bart blurted out, unable to restrain himself. Erion replied, "Indeed. Listen master Bart!"

The woman said to herself, "Hope I got both the translation and the spoken language right!" she cleared her throat and then began speaking while looking right at Bart.

"Hello, I am Ducia. I am a young woman who lives in Decretia on the other side of the barrier from you. My probe, Allie, was sent phasing through the barrier in search of someone who was seeking the truth about the barrier and righting the historical goof that separated our two peoples. We need to work together to save the Earth because something very bad is coming very soon. If you understand this message, then the rest of the goodies that I've sent you in that burst should help you help me. Be careful, my new friend. Goodbye!"

"Of course, this is amazing. Go Bart go! Face the punishment so you can help."

"Go now!" Bart was even more quickly on his way.

The afternoon light faded as Bart hurried through Regalia's winding streets, his footsteps echoing off the ancient stone walls. Each step carried him closer to the inevitable confrontation at the military compound, yet his mind remained fixed on the extraordinary discoveries he'd made.

The mysterious message from Ducia and the artifacts they'd uncovered gave purpose to his actions, even as the weight of his dereliction grew heavier. Time seemed to slip away as he navigated the familiar paths back to base, knowing that each passing moment only added to the severity of his punishment. The cooling air and lengthening shadows marked the transition from day to evening, reminding him that he could no longer delay facing the consequences of his choice.

As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the military compound, a disheveled figure approached the main gate. Bart, his civilian clothes dusty and his face etched with exhaustion, stood before the guards, his heart beating with a mix of dread and determination.

"Halt! Identify yourself," one of the guards commanded, eyeing Bart suspiciously.

"Cadet Bartholomew Copernicus," Bart replied, his voice hoarse. "I... I need to speak with Colonel Hawthorne immediately."

The guards exchanged glances, recognition dawning in their eyes. "You're to report to the Colonel's office at once," the senior guard said sternly. "You've caused quite a stir, Cadet."

As Bart was escorted through the compound, he could feel the weight of disapproving stares from his fellow soldiers. Whispers followed in his wake, and he caught snippets of conversation about his absence and the disgrace he had brought upon his unit.

Colonel Hawthorne was waiting in his office, his face a mask of controlled anger. As Bart entered, the Colonel's eyes bore onto him. "Cadet Copernicus," he said, his voice dangerously low, "you have exactly one minute to explain your unauthorized absence before I recommend your immediate discharge from this institution."

Bart swallowed hard, his mind racing. He couldn't reveal the true reason for his absence—the secret meeting, the mysterious artifacts, the potential threat to Regalia. But he also knew that any lie would be easily discovered.

"Sir," Bart began, his voice trembling slightly, "I... I can't fully explain my actions without compromising sensitive information. But I assure you, my absence was in service to Regalia, even if it doesn't appear that way."

Colonel Hawthorne's eyebrows shot up, his expression a mix of disbelief and curiosity. "Sensitive information? What exactly are you implying, Cadet?"

Bart stood straighter, meeting the Colonel's gaze. "Sir, I respectfully request to speak with my father, First Scientist Raymond Copernicus, before I say anything further. The matter is of the utmost importance and secrecy."

The Colonel leaned back in his chair, studying Bart intently. After a long moment, he spoke, his voice grave. "Very well, Cadet. But understand this—if your explanation is anything less than extraordinary, the consequences will be severe. Dismissed."

As Bart left the office, he felt a momentary relief, but it was quickly overshadowed by the knowledge that the real challenge lay ahead. He had to convince his father of the gravity of his discoveries without revealing too much, all while facing the disappointment and anger of his family and superiors. The weight of his secret felt heavier than ever as he made his way to face the reckoning that awaited him.

The evening shadows stretched across the compound as Bart's footsteps carried him toward his inevitable confrontation with his family. The military discipline that had been drilled into him since childhood warred with his newfound understanding of Regalia's hidden truths. Around him, the compound hummed with activity as the day shift prepared to hand over to the night watch, the familiar routines continuing despite the disruption he had caused.

Through windows and doorways, he caught glimpses of officers hurrying to and fro, their urgent movements suggesting that his absence had sparked more concern than he'd anticipated. The cool evening air carried whispers of his name as he passed, but he kept his eyes forward, steeling himself for what was to come. 

The officers' mess hall buzzed with hushed conversations as a group of senior officers gathered around a large oak table. Colonel Hawthorne sat at the head, his face grave as he addressed his colleagues.

"Gentlemen," he began, his voice low but firm, "we need to discuss the matter of Cadet Bartholomew Copernicus and determine an appropriate course of action."

Major Simmons, a stern-faced man with graying temples, leaned forward. "With all due respect, Colonel, this seems clear-cut. Unauthorized absence during a major event? That's grounds for immediate dismissal."

A murmur of agreement rippled through the room, but Captain Reeves, a younger officer known for his measured approach, raised a hand. "While I agree the offense is serious, we must consider the Copernicus family's standing. First Scientist Raymond is a pillar of our community, and his other sons are exemplary soldiers."

Colonel Hawthorne nodded thoughtfully. "Indeed, Captain. And there's something else to consider. Cadet Copernicus mentioned 'sensitive information' and requested to speak with his father before explaining further."

The room fell silent as the officers exchanged glances. Major Simmons frowned deeply. "Surely you don't believe that, Colonel? It sounds like a desperate attempt to avoid punishment."

"Perhaps," Hawthorne replied, "but we can't dismiss it outright. The Copernicus family has always been at the forefront of Regalia's scientific and military advancements. If there's even a chance that Bartholomew's absence is related to something of vital importance..." Captain Reeves nodded in agreement. "We should at least allow him to speak with his father before making a final decision. If it turns out to be a fabrication, we can always proceed with disciplinary action then."

After a moment of contemplation, Colonel Hawthorne made his decision. "Very well. We'll grant Cadet Copernicus the opportunity to explain himself to his father. In the meantime, he'll be confined to quarters and stripped of all privileges. If his explanation proves unsatisfactory, we'll reconvene to determine the appropriate punishment".

As the meeting adjourned, the officers filed out, their faces a mix of concern and curiosity. The unusual circumstances surrounding Bart's absence had turned what should have been a straightforward disciplinary matter into something far more complex. Each of them couldn't help but wonder: what could be so important that a cadet would risk everything to pursue it?

The afternoon shadows lengthened across the military compound as the officers dispersed, their whispered discussions echoing through the corridors. Reports continued to filter in from search parties across the city, each one adding new layers of mystery to Bart's disappearance. Colonel Hawthorne retreated to his office to draft his report, his practiced military efficiency warring with the nagging sense that this situation required a more delicate touch.

As the day's activities wound down, word reached the Copernicus residence that Bart had finally been located and would be escorted home after his preliminary debriefing. The news spread quickly through Regalia's upper echelons, setting in motion a series of events that would test the bonds of family loyalty against the rigid structures of military discipline.

The Copernicus family home was shrouded in an uncomfortable silence as Raymond, Bruce, and Robert sat in the study, waiting for Bart to arrive. The tension was palpable, each family member lost in their own disturbing thoughts about the day's events and the impending confrontation.

Raymond stood by the window, his normally composed demeanor showing signs of strain. Bruce paced the room, his military boots echoing on the hardwood floor, while Robert sat quietly, his fingers drumming an anxious rhythm on the arm of his chair.

The door opened, and Bart entered, escorted by a stern-faced officer.

The young cadet looked disheveled and exhausted, a stark contrast to his usually impeccable appearance. As the officer left, closing the door behind him, Bart found himself facing the scrutiny of his family.

Raymond spoke first, his voice controlled but laced with disappointment. "Bartholomew, explain yourself. Your absence today was not just a personal failing, but a disgrace to this family and everything we stand for."

Bart swallowed hard, his eyes darting between his father and brothers. "Father, I... I know how this looks, but I assure you, I have a good reason."

Bruce scoffed, his frustration evident. "A good reason? What could possibly justify abandoning your duty, embarrassing our family, and risking your entire future?"

"Bruce," Robert interjected, his tone more measured. "Let him speak." 

Bart took a deep breath, steeling himself. "What I'm about to tell you must remain in this room. It's of the utmost importance to Regalia's future."

Raymond's eyebrows raised slightly, a flicker of curiosity breaking through his stern facade. "Go on."

"I've... discovered something,"

Bart continued, choosing his words carefully. "Something that could change everything we know about Regalia and the barrier. I had to meet with someone who could help decipher it."

The room fell silent as the weight of Bart's words sank in. Raymond's scientific curiosity warred with his paternal disappointment, while Bruce and Robert exchanged skeptical glances.

"What exactly have you discovered?" Raymond asked, his voice low and intense.

Bart hesitated, then reached into his jacket pocket. His hand trembled as he withdrew a small object that glowed with an impossible light - a light that, according to everything they knew about Regalia's laws of physics, should not exist. Raymond's face drained of color as he recognized what his son held, and at that moment, he realized that everything he had dedicated his life to might have been built on a lie.