Subject: Blue Lightning, short update
From: Damon Jason Casale
Date: 5/16/1996, 4:33 AM
To: fanfic@fanfic.com

Well, I'm in the middle of getting this put back together, so here's
the first two parts of vol 1 again.  C&C is politely requested, as always.

-----

                                   *******
                                Blue Lightning
                                   *******
                                   Volume I

                           (c)1995 By Damon Casale

 	The year is 2008.  Overcrowding, a totalitarian government, and 
vicious, constantly infighting intelligence agencies plague the world.  
It's not a nice place to live.

	I had a plan.  There was a way out, away from all of the worst 
humanity has to offer.  It was only a matter of time...

 
* Questionable Tactics


	For me, it was over.  Kerin was dead.

	I stood in front of her.  Hazel-gray eyes closed, not a strand of 
hair out of place... even the horrible bloodstains, gone.  But her sleep 
will last forever.

	I shook myself out of it.  There, the tube's closed.  Click.  The 
conveyor carried it away, and a hatch opened and closed.  A dull *thump*, 
and the launcher kicked it out into open space.
	Her death had taken a vital part of me with her.  I felt hollow 
inside.  Cold.  There may be a universe out there, which I once longed to 
explore... but now the beauty is gone, leaving an empty, mocking husk.

	Leaden, I forced myself, every step up the ladder from the 
scoutcraft bay, heavy with indescribable emotions I couldn't release or 
escape.  Somewhere between there and the bridge, I found the strength to 
make a decision.


	I stood on the bridge, and faced the crew.  "I've decided.  We're 
going back.  We're going back for her."

	Puzzlement, then shock played over Steve's face.  "Do you have any 
idea what that'll mean?  Damon, you can't just--"
	"I know.  I don't care any more."  The bridge was silent for a 
long moment.  "I assume no one wants out now..."
	And no one ever had.  Not that Steve would have let them.

	Steve had had good reason to feel the way he did.  Then again, so 
had I.  He made it a point to know the odds and the risks, for any 
possibility.  This was the first time, though not the only time, that he 
hadn't known.  None of us did, then.  And I had been willing to take the 
risks.

	Jupiter swung before us, looming large and silent.  Then Saturn, a 
halo and myriad of moons spinning lazily away in space.  Finally, the solar 
system was left behind.

	'It's all in the past'.  'You can't look back, only forward'.  
There are dozens of them.  Each one, a silent memorial to what I'd lost.  
Each one, utterly devoid of pity or remorse.  No.  I've come this far, and 
now even the immutable past can be remolded and reshaped.

	"Let's go."  I touched a few buttons, laying in an autonav 
sequence, and stood up.  There was no turning back now.
	On the viewscreen, the stars took on a reddish haze, as the ship 
began wrapping itself in a cloak of artificial mass.  A thick, inky black 
ring of darkness coalesced around the ship, a naked, rotating singularity.
	The numbers, data, tests...they mean less than nothing now, I 
thought.  In a few seconds, we could all be--

	The viewscreen exploded into a fierce, intensely bright light, 
taking me by surprise.  Blue Lightning shuddered, an unsettling tremor 
reverberating throughout the ship.  I shielded my eyes, but the light 
rapidly faded away.  I looked...

	"Holy--"
	I slammed myself into the nav seat.  The timejump had worked, 
after all.  We were thousands, perhaps millions of years in the past, and 
millions of miles from home.  Directly ahead lay a small, drab, grayish-
white star, growing steadily larger on the screen.  The heart and bones of 
the ship, suddenly thrown before a yawning abyss, lurched and screamed in 
agony.  I attacked the console furiously, grabbing the control spheres and 
forcing them to one side.  For a few, frantic seconds, the ship slid ever 
closer to the neutron star.  Then slowly...achingly slowly...it drifted 
away to the left.

	"That was *too* close."  Steve collapsed into another chair, 
shaken.

	The star had caught the ship unprepared.  Had I activated the 
gravdrive again, we would have been shredded like so much confetti.  I 
shuddered.
	"I hate to say it, but let's try that again," I breathed.  It 
would be at least one more jump back in time, hopefully in the other 
direction on space, before we returned to a Prehistoric earth.
	Nick chuckled.  His sense of humor was almost as bad as Steve's.  
I glared back.  Steve only smiled sarcastically, keeping silent.

	The stars again began to take on a reddish haze.

	...and...

 
	"We're back already?"  Jeff wondered aloud.  One of my other 
crewmembers, who had stayed to watch the timejump, and hadn't been polite 
enough to leave yet.  He threw me a questioning glance.  "Didn't you say 
you can't steer--?"
	Your confidence is overwhelming, I grumbled silently at him.  "No, 
look at it again.  There's only one continent on the whole planet, plus a 
few scattered islands."

	The blue-green world crept closer, something out of a forgotten 
dream.  A small, pithy moon slid into view.  Opposite the planet, another 
was barely visible, very dim.  The first moon drifted out of sight.

	Ever alert, Steve slowly stood and stared, the first to notice the 
large, ungainly lump of a ship edging out from behind the planet.  
"My...what in God's name is THAT??"
	Numb, I shook my head slowly.  Whoever they might be, we obviously 
weren't welcome, I thought.

	The other ship spun off to one side, and the first moon swung into 
view again, growing huge against the starry night.  Blue Lightning coasted 
into a slow, drifting orbit around it, the planet on the other side.

	"Looks like it's already occupied, D."
	I glanced back at Steve.  "Not very likely.  We didn't see or scan 
any artificial satellites, and that's only one ship we've seen so far.  My 
guess is they're investigating it, same as us."
	Steve paused at that, not taking my implication very well.
	I looked back at the moon, slowly drifting by beneath us, and 
continued.  "As soon as it orbits back behind the planet again, which 
should be in about..."  A quick jab at the console again.  "...seventy five 
minutes, we'll try for a quick landing."

	He eyed me, looking a bit disturbed.  "Sure that's a good idea?"
	A quirked eyebrow, narrowed eyes, I silently told him exactly what 
I thought of his question.
	Steve breathed a small sigh.  "Fine, I'm heading downstairs."  He 
walked across the deck, stepping onto a protruding ladder, looking back at 
me and beckoning.  "Coming?"


	In the heart of this maze of metal and plastic lay a bit of lost 
paradise, a small island of Earth carried into the depths of space.  We 
climbed down onto a carpet of fine, green grass, slightly damp.  An 
artificial creek burbled its merry way across the room, adding to the 
illusion of a real park.  A single stub of a tree leaned over it, drooping.
	We sat down under the tree.  Steve took his boots and socks off, 
rolling up his pants, and hung his feet in the cool water.
	"Care to talk about it?"  He prodded.
	I shook my head slightly.  "Sorry.  Not now, at least."  It was 
far too soon to give into his attempt to help me.  By force of habit, 
everyone around him had to be ready for anything, and I was no exception 
even now.

	Steve faced the stream, looking away.


	It had been an issue of questionable tactics in the first place, 
years and years ago.  I knew *someone* was onto me, but had no idea who.  
My apartment had been searched, though discreetly, my phone bugged...and I 
knew it was time to do something.  And so it all began with a phone call to 
a longtime friend, one with whom I didn't mind confiding secrets...

        "...I just need something else in my life, you know?  I'm even 
getting bored with Maison Ikkoku."  At the time, it had been my favorite 
series.  I suppose it still was even five years ago, after a fashion.
	I shrugged, idly lounging on the couch.  It was a stupid idea to 
begin with, but it was this or nothing.  "Well, more like depressed, 
actually."
	Steve laughed at that.  "Can't help ya, man."
	Up to this point, I'd never had any kind of relationship with 
anyone, being the geek I was, way back then.  "Even after the last episode, 
too!  Maybe I just empathize with Godai too much."  I smiled slightly.  
There'd been a storybook, happy ending for Kyoko and Yushaku Godai.  It 
hadn't happened that way in real life, for Kerin and I.
	But by then I'd already decided to attract some of that unwelcome 
attention in a bit more of a direct fashion.  And my voice picked up a note 
of sadness I can remember all too well.  "Maybe I'm just lonely."
	"You? That *is* a change."

	It was time to go hunting for my pursuers, and I did it the hard 
way.

**********

	On the bridge again, the moon slid away to reveal the planet, 
minus its unwanted visitor.  Steve and I exchanged meaningful glances.

	A bay door in the belly of the ship slid ponderously open.  The 
scoutcraft within drifted forward, and the door closed.

	The planet below opened up invitingly, and the scoutcraft brushed 
through a few faint wisps of cloud, heading for a small island near the 
mainland.
	"Just in case.  They're probably already on the continent 
somewhere."


	The exit ramp descended, and a touch of breeze brought the salty 
taste of the sea.  Outside, we gathered near a small copse of trees.  Vivid 
green bark and a light purple ocean brought home the alienness of the 
world.

	"It's a good thing this air is breathable.  I'd hate to have to 
walk around in those stupid suits all the time."  Nick grumbled at nothing 
in particular, a dark, bearded attitude marring the beautiful scene.
	"Then relax and enjoy it."  I managed a weak smile.  "Let's take a 
look around, shall we?"

	A nearby cliff beckoned.  The sun was low on the horizon, 
reflecting a rainbow of light off of the rippling water below.  So peaceful 
and serene.  Maybe, for a few weeks...

	Then I looked down.
	"Oh my god..."

	On the rocks below, a humanoid form was spreadeagled next to the 
crashing waves of the sea.  Steve looked at it, his expression unreadable.


* Choices


	"Damn, he's heavy."  Steve stumbled a second time, cursing.

	Inside the scoutship, the three of us laid him on a bunk set into 
the wall.
	"I hope you know what you're doing," Nick growled.  As a 
biologist, he was the first to appreciate the `little' problems.
"Do we have any choice?  Look."  I turned his head, revealing a small, 
electronic device, cracked open and innards exposed.  "Something tells me 
that's not supposed to be there."
	"So now what?"  Steve looked back at me as I walked down the ramp.
	"We wait for him to come around.  I'll be outside."


	I sat down, dangling my legs over the edge of the cliff, looking 
down at the crashing waves. The sun was setting.
	Maybe he's right, I thought to myself.  This isn't such a good 
idea.

	I looked out over the sea, as the sun dipped lower, almost below 
the horizon now.

	On the other hand, I've got to do something.
	I rested my head in my hands, watching as the sun finally set, the 
last, faint rays of light slowly fading away.

	Steve called out from inside the scoutcraft.  "He's coming 
around."
	"I'll be right there."

	I stood up, kicking a pebble over the edge of the cliff, and 
looking rather despondently at the darkening sky.

	The seadweller tossed restlessly.  He blinked slowly, and his eyes 
opened halfway.  Just the barest hint of a melodic whistle sounded.
	"You're safe.  It's all right."  Nick rested a comforting hand on 
the seadweller's arm.  His eyes opened a bit more, and he started to sit 
up, then clutched in pain at the device on his head.  It sparked.
	Nick pushed him back down gently.  "Careful there.  You need to 
rest."
	"I don't think he understands what you're saying," Steve said.
	I shook my head.  "Doesn't matter."  He's among friends, and that 
needs no language to communicate.

	I gestured to Steve.


	"We've got to do something about that thing on his head."
	Steve looked away, at the cliff.  "We can't do anything here, 
that's for sure."
	"Then we're talking about taking him aboard Blue Lightning.  
Should we risk it?"

	"If we were going to catch anything, it would have happened 
already."  He faced me again, grinning.  "Besides, you said you didn't have 
a choice, did you?"
	I smiled.  If only for a fleeting moment, he'd managed to give me 
back a bit of lost cheer.

        "What..."  I could barely hear it at first, but the sound had been 
buzzing around in the back of my mind for the past few minutes.  Now 
puzzled, I looked intently at the nearby copse of trees, where it was 
emanating from.  Steve glanced at the trees, curious.
	I gestured to him.  "Give me your floptical recorder."
	He held out a small, rectangular device, with a slot in the back 
just big enough for a 3.5" floptical.  I took it, holding it out in the 
direction of the trees, as the grinding sound rapidly grew louder.


        The scoutcraft flew into the night, and the clearing was once again 
empty.

        ...no, perhaps not.  The mystery, remained.


	John and I helped the seadweller onto a medbed.  He took a 
medscanner, a calculator-like gadget with a couple of odd-looking 
attachments thrown in for good measure, and panned it over the head of the 
now prone humanoid.
	He gazed curiously at it.  "Maybe you boys should wait outside."

	Steve shot a satisfied look at me.  "Now's as good a time as any."  
Ahead, around a slight bend in the corridor, a ladder ran through the 
ceiling and floor.
	I stared rather confusedly at him.  "For what?"
	He started down the ladder.  "We need to talk.  About what 
happened that day."

	"Now isn't--"
	His voice wafted up from below.  "You can't keep it bottled up 
forever."

	I climbed onto the ladder, sighing heavily.  He was right.


	The door closed behind us.  I sat down on my bunk, and Steve 
followed suit.  Painful it might be, but keeping it inside would only eat 
away at that still small hope I clung so desperately to.  It was time to 
let it go.

	"After we got out of the compound where they were holding her, we 
headed for the ship...."


	I glanced back, watching for any signs of pursuit from the 
compound.  None in sight.  We didn't have long.
	Kerin gazed out at the countryside racing by.  She hadn't spoken a 
word since we left.  I stole a nervous glance at her, but she looked away.

	Why was she so angry?

	Below, a narrow dirt road was braced by trees.  The flitter raced 
along, only a few feet above the treetops.
	"Why did you bother?"  Kerin finally looked at me.
	"I didn't want you hurt.  You know what they would have done to 
you."
	I shuddered, thinking of one of my brief encounters with her 
`employers'.  I'd nearly lost Steve that day, to a hail of armor-piercing 
bullets.  Their illegality didn't bother them.  The government sanctioned 
terrorists were only interested in results.

	She looked ahead, no trace of emotion.  "That's not it.  That's 
not it at all."
        My face flushed red with embarrassment, and I looked down.  She 
knew me well enough to realize that much.  After more than ten years, I 
couldn't expect less.

	"I'm sorry," I managed after a moment.  I was silent after that, 
watching the rural towns flash by.  It was always so hard to talk to her 
about anything other than the most trivial things.  I'd always regretted 
holding so many secrets from her, and had longed for a semblance of a 
normal relationship.  Love.  But it never came to be.

	Behind us, a menacing black chopper rose into view, closing 
rapidly.  Kerin looked back, fearful.
	"Looks like we've got company.  Keep your head down."

	"Why should you care?  You know who I am!"  She nearly cried at 
me.
	"I've known since we met."

	Her eyes widened.  "...you couldn't have..." she whispered.  The 
seconds ticked by.  As the chopper grew closer, I could see her finally 
realizing what I'd never been able to truly say.  Her eyes shone, bright 
with tears.

	I looked at her again.  "Now is not the time to discuss this.  As 
I see it, you have two choices.  I can try to evade these clowns and hide 
you somewhere where you'll be safe, or..."
	I paused, looking away.  "...or you can come with me."

	"Are you serious?  Do you really care about me that much?"
	"I..."  I stuttered, as always, unable to say it.  I *am* in love 
with you.  No matter what happens...I can't lose you again.

	I snapped my head around, as machine gun fire sounded from the 
nearly forgotten chopper, almost on top of us.  Even now, I couldn't help 
letting my emotions cloud my judgement.  I shoved Kerin down in the seat.  
"Stay down!"
	The flitter dashed forward and broke towards the sun, high in the 
sky.  In the distance, Blue Lightning came into sight, in the middle of a 
large field laden with deep gouges and tracks from the recent presence of 
heavy equipment.  "They're still tailing us," I murmured, glancing back.

	We crossed into North Dakota, less than five hundred miles from 
the compound.  They'd never known the prize they sought was so close.

        Another chopper came into view in front of us, swinging out from 
behind the swollen ship.  "Shit!  More trouble."
 
        Kerin peeked above the dashboard, and her eyes widened at the sight 
of it.  "That's a...a..."
	"Stay down!  We've gotta make it to the ship!"
	I pressed a button and spoke into a grille on the dash.  "Steve, 
open bay 5.  Shut it right after we land."
	"Gotcha."

	The second chopper fired, grazing the hull of the flitter.  The 
ship dropped lower, finally slowing to less than 200 miles an hour.

	I aimed for the opening door, as both choppers closed in.
 
	Just before we entered, machine gun fire sounded again, and Kerin 
gasped in pain.  On her chest and shoulder, two dark splotches were rapidly 
spreading.  She slumped back in the seat, her breathing shallow and 
labored.

	The bay door closed behind us, and I spun the flitter around, 
nearly crashing into the rear wall.  It finally settled to the deck, and 
Steve rushed forward, alarmed.
        I cradled Kerin in my arms, my face wet with tears, my arms wet 
with her blood.  I brushed a few brown locks aside, and her eyelids 
fluttered open momentarily, although her eyes couldn't focus.  In a faint 
whisper, she breathed her last.  "Goodbye, Damon.  I l..."  Then her eyes 
rolled back, and her body sagged.
	I buried my face in her chest, the tears mingling with her 
lifeblood.  "Noo..."

	And so it ended, with the one person I treasured more than 
anything taken from me not a moment before I left Earth, never to return.


	"....You know the rest already."  A single tear dropped from my 
cheek.  I dabbed at it, wiping it away.  "...so close," I whispered.  
"Why?"

	And there was only silence.

	"Let's go," he said.
	I looked at Steve sidewise.


	The infirmary door slid open in front of us.  The humanoid was 
sitting up on the medbed, his head now free of the device, a white bandage 
in its place.  The device itself rested on a small, wheeled table nearby. 

	John, standing next to the bed, gestured.  "He'll be fine.  But I 
didn't try to take the wires out of his head, that this thing was attached 
to.  Too much risk of brain damage."
	He walked over, looking up at us.  "You wanna know something?  His 
brain is almost *exactly* like ours, except for a small third lobe in the 
back of his head."
	Another puzzle?  "Wait a second.  How could he be that similar to 
us?"

	"I gave Nick a skin scraping -- he'll take a look at his DNA.  
Let's wait and see what he comes up with, mmm?"
	I approached the bed and held out my hand, helping the humanoid to 
his feet.  "C'mon.  I want to show you something."  John shot me a "warn me 
next time" look.  He'd always hated surprises.

 
	Steve and I guided him from the stairway onto the bridge.  The 
ship was just beyond the edge of the moon, with the planet in view.
	The seadweller approached the viewscreen slowly, a wondering look 
on his face.
 
	As the other ship began edging into view again, the humanoid's 
eyes widened.  He slowly touched his hand to the bandage.
	He turned around, facing us.  He pointed at his eyes...and the 
ship, looking at it.
        "Look at the ship?  I don't--"
	"No, I think he means he's seen it before.  Or maybe something 
like it..."  Jeff climbed off the ladder, plying his trade:  linguistics.

	The humanoid faced us again, as Blue Lightning moved back behind 
the moon.

	He paused, then approached me, pointing at his mouth...then at my 
ear...then at my mouth...then at his...ear?  I nodded quickly.  "You're 
right.  We have to find a way to communicate."
	He slowly pointed at the bandage, then cupped his hand in the 
shape of the device so recently removed.
	"Are you saying...that was a translator?"

	He pointed at the viewscreen again, then looked confused.
	"It can translate their language?"

	We faced each other silently.  There are always...possibilities, I 
remembered one notable Vulcan having said.  And the mystery beckoned.

	I sat down at one of the consoles, and pressed and held the 
intercom button.  "John, think you could reattach that thing?"
	Click.  "Are you kidding?"
	"No questions.  Can you do it?"  I could almost hear his 
indecision...but his trust won out.  "I...think so..."  The doctor wasn't 
always right, as he'd told me so often.
	"Alright.  Tomorrow then."  I released the button.  "Steve, go 
find Jeremy.  We're gonna need to get that thing fixed before we can put it 
back on."
	His concern was plainly visible.  "Don't you think you should ask 
*him* first before you go messing with his head?"

	I glanced back at the humanoid.  "I think he's already made that 
decision."
	"I want Jeremy to make another one, too."  I said flatly.

	Steve's eyes widened.  And then he wheezed and coughed repeatedly, 
trying to recover.  "Are you *nuts*??"
	"Not hardly.  I'm gonna need one."
	Steve looked even more surprised.

	"If I'm right, that thing only works one way.  You can understand 
what's being spoken, but not speak the language yourself."
	"Then how will that help?"
	I returned with a knowing look.  "I can start by using that voice 
sample we recorded earlier."
	"How do you know that was their language?"

	I looked back at the seadweller, who was watching us both 
curiously.  "What else could it have been?  Besides, I played it for our 
friend here, and he seemed to recognize it."

	Steve looked glum.  "You're crazier than I'd ever hope to be."
	I smiled sadly.  "It's not like I have a choice, do I?"

Damon Casale, scyth@andrew.cmu.edu

				* Love *
                 Between two people, there is nothing that
                      can draw them closer together