Search for The Sakari -III E-Book

Suzann Dodd

• Herausgeber: BookRix
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2021

Beschreibung

Various attempts are made to find The Sakari.  Tony Johnson creates reggae concerts which should entice her.   

The question is;  Is the Sakari alive?  

Leseprobe

Suzann Dodd

Search for The Sakari -III

BookRix GmbH & Co. KG81371 Munich

To Every Season

TO EVERY SEASON

MARILYN MISTRILABISINGHBETA MAR

Days were passing and I was still at square one. Vende called me Marilyn, I knew I wasn't. He told me about my wealth and flyers and things I owned which I kind of imagined, but they were fuzzy.

I was going stir crazy and if I didn't get out of the house I'd crack up. I told him, he took me to the campus.

We got on public transportation. I was looking out, trying to find a familiar street a familiar tree, a familiar cloud pattern, something saying to you know this place. But nothing was familiar. Nothing hooked to anything to let me sort of 'feel' like if I went up this road, if I flew over that park, I'd see something I'd know.

So I'm gawking out the window like maybe I'd see something, anything, anyone, and suddenly, there was this big ad for catfood. As I saw it I got the Big Headache, everything going dark, the pain shoving out all thought and the next thing would be the sickness.

Vende had to notice for he dragged me off the bus. I vomited, and everything went black. I woke up on the roadside.

"What happened?" He asked.

I couldn't answer. I don't know what happened and if I thought of it I'd get sick again. I shook my head, wiped my mouth. There we were, standing no place, near nothing, on a trail kind of road. There was nothing for it, and we started to walk.

It wasn't so bad a walk. He pointed out trees and new housing schemes and stuff like that and I didn't feel no way. In fact, walking along in the sunshine, nothing but bush, I started to feel better. In fact, I think this was the best I ever felt.

Some student drove up, gave us a lift. I sat, not looking at nothing, not thinking, because I wanted to feel good. Vende sort of held my hand, though I didn't want him to, I wouldn't push it. When he let go I clasped my hands.

We reached the Campus, I sat on a bench. He told me where he was going and I figured I'd be okay. But he wasn't cool about it, so carried me to the library and left me for a few hours.

I read old newspapers. The Headache started to come back. I looked outside and felt so empty, I turned to looking at Art. Just called up Art and scanned over all sorts of stuff not seeing it, just marking time and trying to keep myself balanced.

When it was time to go home I made up my mind not to look out the window, not to look at the sign and I didn't. I knew it had a key but I wasn't going for it. Not now, maybe another day but right now, I felt so inside out, I only wanted to get home, get into the bed, get into sleep.

I spent the bus ride looking at my hands in my lap, and soon as we cracked the door, Vende went to the com, I went to the bed.

I dreamed of the sign.

There was this kind of holo sign for cat food with this big cat, and the cat had yellow eyes. The sign got bigger and bigger until it swallowed me. All I could see were the eyes. I saw these two big yellow eyes.

I was falling. Falling into them and I wasn't upset. I was falling into the doom of those eyes and wasn't even afraid, letting myself go--

I jumped out of sleep.

Vende was working, he didn't notice me. Something about his back, his interest caught by the screen, the unbearable trivial role I played in his life made me feel like nothing. And I cried. Cried silently, yet he turned.

He turned and waited as if hoping I'd stop and let him get back to his important work.

I got up, went to the bathroom, and looked into the mirror at a face somewhat familar. I told myself to get a grip.

I had to get out of here, get somewhere else. If I were Marilyn let me find her house. Okay, maybe not tomorrow, but soon.

For being here isn't helping.

Thin Silence

THIN SILENCEKI-ZERSHAZDENA DEMARA'S HOUSEBETA MAR

I gaze into the sea remembering another sea, another time. The sand in that other time was grey and coarse, nearly black where it met the surf. The sky was a pale blue and there was no fragrance sans the ocean in the air.

The sand on this beach is pink and soft and the sky is a deeper blue. The air is choked by fragrances of flowers and plants and only when a strong breeze coasts from the west can I smell the sea.

The sun is much as that which shines about Earth, or shined five hundred and seven years ago. It beats upon my skin and darkens it.

I have spent many hours here. I am here because this is the last place she resided. Her veheTalya is in the garage as she left it, solar panels attached, filled, readied for use.

Her Outside suit is hung in a closet, awaiting her return.

I know the exact moment she arrived here, the data is upon the computer within the flyer. I know how many days she resided, for she has entered much of her life on the small computer in the house, each entry time stamped.

I know when Jill removed her to Gestan General Hospital, have even be able to compromise records to ascertain the exact time she brought forth my son.

After that, there is no precision. I do not know when she evacuated the hospital, have approximates as to when she entered a free clinic, when she exited, when she appropriated a Venga from a United Police Impound.

It is, on my Chrono, which maintains Earth Time, the 27th day of December 2496. Shari has been unlocated twenty two days. Save the data of 'NiNi', (which considering her intellectual confusion, was difficult to define) there is no evidence Shari persists.

I instruct myself that were she dead I would know.

I enflame a smoker of ganja and inhale. The substance grants me waking dreams, possibilities that did not eventuate.

In May I had prepared my resignation from the Terran Space Fleet. Having been commissioned in January of 2481, securing no leave, my twenty years of service would have completed this month, perhaps on this very day.

I would leave the TSF using my accrued savings to purchase a yacht upon which I would reside.  And despite my promise, I would contact Shari.

Perhaps she would arrange a meeting between us here, yes. It was a potentiality. And with the freeness of my intellect, as I lay upon soft sand, I imagine.