TENCHI MUYO! : "Mother's Day"
by Ryan Mathews
PROLOGUE
Kyle was dreaming. In the dream, everything was back to normal. He
was in Buffalo, in his own bed, sleeping with his wife. All was well.
Then he woke up. The air was too cold for an apartment. The scents
of nature and the too-loud sounds of wildlife nearby reminded him that he
was in a tent. However, it hadn't all been a dream. He felt the
comfortable warmth, caught the familiar scent of her hair, and realized that
Stacy actually was sleeping beside him, curled up next to him in the
sleeping bag. Kyle smiled at this pleasant surprise. His smile quickly
faded as reality set in. He wished she'd called him before making the trip.
He would have told her not to come.
Kyle tried unsuccessfully to wriggle out of the sleeping bag without
waking her up. Stacy groaned, mumbled and opened her eyes. "Mm. Hi,
honey."
"Hi." Kyle finished working his way out of the bag and stood up.
"What are you doing here?"
"Is that the kind of greeting I get? I thought you'd be happy to
see me."
"I *am* happy. It's just that..." Kyle's voice trailed off. He
didn't want to explain everything now, although he knew he had no choice.
"This isn't a good place to be today."
"Is that why the staff is missing?" she asked.
"Yeah. I sent them home."
"Then I take it we've found what we were looking for?"
Kyle sighed. "Oh God, Stacy, I hope not."
Stacy gave him a bewildered look, which was understandable.
"Let's get some breakfast," said Kyle, "and I'll explain it as best
as I can."
It had all begun more than a year ago, when astronomers across the
world had observed a mammoth explosion. It had occurred closer to Earth
than the Moon. NASA's official explanation was that two asteroids had
violently collided, but they had no agreed-upon theory as to how these
asteroids had come so close to the Earth without having been tracked. The
conspiracy nuts had been convinced that an alien spacecraft had exploded,
and one even produced as fuzzy photograph as "proof". With a little digital
enhancement, and a lot of imagination, it appeared to show three spaceships
engaged in a pitched battle.
No one had taken the wackos seriously, least of all Kyle, who had
been running a profitable salvage business at the time. Then an old friend
who had moved to Montana had called him up with an odd story. It seems that
several people in that area had observed a large fireball fall to Earth on
the same night the explosion had been recorded. Curiously, it had made no
sound, and no one had succeeded in finding an impact site.
Kyle hadn't known what to make of the story, but he hadn't seen his
friend in years and this was as good an excuse as any for a vacation. So he
and Stacy had packed up some basic tools and set off for Montana.
What they found astonished them. Based on eyewitness accounts, they
calculated where the impact site should have been. There was no crater,
but when they tried metal-detectors, the readings were off the scale. A
quick dig with shovel revealed a fragment of metal which defied all basic
attempts at analysis, and would later defy much more sophisticated attempts.
Kyle had wanted desperately to excavate, but didn't have the
resources. At Stacy's suggestion, they had placed advertisements in several
magazines, as well as on the World-Wide Web, vaguely describing the venture
in the hope of attracting investors.
They had attracted only one, but that one had been enough. A man
calling himself Mr. Zen had offered to fund the entire dig. All he asked in
return was that he be allowed to keep one specific object, if found. He had
given a description of it.
Kyle had thought the man a harmless eccentric, perhaps a member of a
UFO cult looking for a sign from his gods. Money was money, though, and
Kyle had been more than happy to take it.
Then they had found the damned thing.
"I'm sorry I surprised you like that," Stacy said, munching on a
piece of toast. "I got in late last night. I saw you were already passed
out, and I was tired too, so I figured..."
"Don't worry about it," said Kyle. He could barely see his breath
as he spoke. It was turning out to be a chilly, overcast morning, which
suited his mood just fine. "It's not like you could have woken me up. That
was the first night I'd slept in over a week."
"So you did find it?" she asked. "Just like in the description?"
"Yup," replied Kyle. "A crystal cylinder, about five feet high with
a three foot diameter. Looked just like the sketch Zen gave us."
"Well, what are you so glum about? Zen will be pleased. A happy
investor and a successful dig. What more do you want?"
Kyle finished his orange juice and stood up. "Let me show you what
we've found so far."
He led Stacy through the excavation site. It was the first time she
had seen the site in almost two months. She had been back in Buffalo,
taking care of the books for the venture and running the salvage business.
Stacy craned her neck, taking it all in. "I can't believe how far
you've come along." The steep hills of the excavation site were now pitted
with craters where backhoes had uncovered the various artifacts. Kyle had
expected a difficult fight to get a permit for the work, but somehow Mr. Zen
had put the paperwork through in a day. In hindsight, that seemed awfully
suspicious.
The site was abandoned now, the equipment sitting idle and brown
tarpaulins covering artifacts that had been completely or partially
excavated. "Credit the workers," said Kyle. "They really put their heart
and soul into the project, pulling overtime when I hadn't even asked them
to. Of course, the sheer mystery of it all might have had something to do
with it. Take a look at this."
He pulled one of the tarps aside. Protruding from a chunk of rock
was what appeared to a piece of a musical keyboard. The white keys were
severely burned, but the pattern was unmistakable.
"That can't be what I think it is," said Stacy.
"Those were our thoughts exactly. There's more. We've found pipes
as well. It seems to be pieces of a steam organ."
"How did it get buried in the rock?"
"It wasn't," Kyle replied. "At least that's what our geologists
tell us. The evidence is inconsistent with burial. And the organ isn't
old enough. I mean, the human race hadn't even developed technology when
that rock was laid down."
"Then how'd it get there?"
"We have no idea. Somehow the organ was fused with the rock. It
was as if it was out of phase with the universe as it fell, then
materialized inside the rock."
Stacy laughed. "You sound like a Star Trek episode."
"This has been more like the Twilight Zone. We've found larger
fragments of that mystery metal, and fragments of crystal. The stuff is
harder than diamond, yet something shattered it prior to the explosion.
We've found chunks of stone sculpture too. We partially reassembled one.
It looks like a snake. We also found a broken medallion with a snake motif.
And the technology! We've found pieces of machinery we can't even begin to
comprehend."
"So in other words, this is the find of the century!" shouted Stacy.
"We're going to be rich and famous! So why do you look so bummed?"
"I'm getting to that," said Kyle.
Stacy folded her arms. "Are you afraid the government is going to
shut us down and make us disappear or something? C'mon, that only happens
in conspiracy movies." She walked over to another tarp-covered item, a much
taller one. "Is this it?"
"Yes. Be careful."
She pulled the tarpaulin aside, revealing the crystal cylinder. It
was beautiful. The crystal was clear, yet it was impossible to see through.
Stacy's gaze fell into level after level of shimmering rainbows, until she
wobbled on her feet and had to turn away. The cylinder was capped on both
ends by some sort of technological device, which appeared to be broken. She
reached out with her hand.
"DON'T TOUCH IT!!" screamed Kyle. He yanked her back violently, and
both ended up flat on their backs.
"Gee, Kyle, what was that all about?" asked Stacy, pulling herself
to her feet and brushing off the mud.
"I'm sorry," said Kyle. "I should have warned you. All the workers
who touched it had to be hospitalized. In fact, they had to be tied down
and sedated."
Stacy looked back at the cylinder, wide-eyed. "What is it?"
"As best as I can tell, it's an alien database. It's a repository
of images, sounds, and facts."
Stacy approached it once more, this time much more slowly and
cautiously. "So the workers who touched it saw these images?"
"I have no idea what they saw. They weren't in any condition to
talk. I only know what I saw."
"You touched it?" asked Stacy, alarmed.
"I accidentally brushed against it. I was only in contact for a
fraction of a second, yet it seemed like days. I saw... Well, I'm not sure
how to describe what I saw. It was like a ship's record. Images of alien
worlds, alien civilizations, sights and sounds and smells I couldn't
possibly have imagined, even in my wildest fantasies."
"Wow. I'm jealous."
"You don't understand, Stacy. Whoever it was that owned this thing,
he was evil. Extremely evil. He was a thief. He would come for a single
object, take it, then remove all the witnesses. I didn't just see these
other worlds, I watched as he destroyed them. I saw cities smashed,
thousands of people burning in the streets..." Kyle started to shake. "I
still see it when I close my eyes. Last night was the first time I slept
since it happened."
"Honey, you should see a doctor."
"I will," said Kyle. "After I put an end to this."
"Put an end--?" Stacy began.
"Mr. Thomas!" said a voice from behind them.
"Not now," said Kyle. "I'm not ready." He turned around to see Mr.
Zen waving to them from across the site.
"You didn't tell me he was coming," said Stacy.
"I was getting around to it. He's early."
Zen walked toward them, stepping around the muddier patches in a
slow motion game of hopscotch. "Beautiful morning, isn't it? A bit chilly,
but invigorating nonetheless."
Zen was unmistakable. Tall, pale-skinned, his hair was a pale
blue, tied tightly into a ponytail that hung halfway down his back. His
eyes sparkled behind wire-rimmed glasses, and he wore the engaging smile
that had charmed Kyle and Stacy into ignoring the more odd aspects of his
funding proposal.
"Mr. Zen!" said Kyle, trying to pull himself into some semblance of
composure. "I didn't hear you arrive. I wasn't expecting you until noon."
"You must forgive me. When I received your message, I was like an
impatient little boy. I simply couldn't wait another minute. Ah!" he
continued, turning to Stacy, "Mrs. Thomas! You're looking as lovely as
always!" He kissed her hand.
"Please," said Stacy, giggling, "I never look 'lovely' this early in
the morning."
Zen's jaw dropped as his gaze fell upon the cylinder. "You found
it! You actually found it! Oh, I had dearly hoped that this would be the
reason you called for me."
Kyle swallowed. "Yes, about why I called..."
"It's beautiful. No significant damage. Tell me, was it difficult
getting it out of the rock?"
"It took over a week," replied Kyle. "After we broke a few tools on
it, we made the decision to be less cautious, which sped things up." He
tried again. "Mr. Zen, we have to talk."
Zen ignored him. He pulled off a white glove and reached out to
touch the cylinder.
"Sir, you really shouldn't--!" Kyle cautioned, but it was too late.
Zen closed his eyes and gasped as his finger made contact. "Yes...
Oh, yes. Still functional. Mother always did build to last." He pulled
away. "You have exceeded my wildest hopes, Mr. Thomas. Words cannot
describe how grateful I am."
"How did you--" Kyle began, and then shook his head. It didn't
matter. It only served to further convince him that the course of action
on which he'd decided was the correct one. He gathered up his courage, and
blurted it out. "I can't let you have it."
Zen raised an eyebrow. "I beg your pardon?"
"Kyle, what are you saying?" asked Stacy.
"That thing is dangerous. All that's happened, the workers who lost
their minds, my own experience, if it tells me anything, it's that I can't
let you have it. I can't let anyone have it. It's too dangerous."
Zen scowled. "Let us not be rash, Mr. Thomas. We have an
agreement. "
"I'm not being rash," said Kyle. "I've given this a lot of
thought."
"Honey, please be reasonable," pleaded Stacy. "We have a signed
contract! Besides, don't you want to be rid of it?"
"Not by giving it to someone else. Especially not someone who knows
how to use it."
"But he could sue our pants off!"
"Let him!" Kyle shouted. "I can live with bankruptcy a lot easier
than I can live with letting someone walk off with what might be the
ultimate weapon."
Zen extended his hands, palms outward, in a pleading gesture.
"Mr. Thomas. I'm certain we can come to some kind of accommodation."
"It's too late, Zen. I informed the government. I'm a little fuzzy
on who has jurisdiction on this sort of thing, but some kind of official is
arriving this afternoon."
Zen pursed his lips. "I see. A shame. It appears I will have to
liquidate this site earlier than I had planned."
"Liquidate?" asked Kyle.
Zen faced the cylinder, waved his right hand over it, and suddenly
it was no longer there. Kyle and Stacy stared dumbfounded at the space
where the cylinder had been, feeling the breeze as the air rushed in to fill
the void.
Like a magician using slight-of-hand, Zen produced a small cylinder.
He pressed a contact, and a beam shot out, striking the rock containing the
steam organ keyboard. The rock quickly dissolved into mist. He began to
vaporize all the artifacts, one-by-one.
"Oh God," said Stacy. "He's destroying everything. We'll be
ruined."
"Stacy, we have to get out of here." He tugged on her shoulder but
she didn't budge. An odd look spread across her face. He recognized the
expression. He seen it before, when their first house had burned down, and
he'd had to restrain her from running back into the fire to retrieve her
doll collection.
"No. No, there's still a chance. If I can just reason with him."
"Stacy, please!" He took her hand and tried to pull her away.
To Kyle's horror, Stacy pulled free of his grasp and ran over to
Zen.
"Please! Mr. Zen! I don't know who you are or what you want, but
my husband has spent a year of his life on this site. It's all we have!
The business at home is failing! Please, I beg you, just let us keep--"
Zen turned and shot her, then went back to his work.
Stacy gasped, not in pain, but surprise as the beam tore through her
chest and out her back. She looked down in astonishment at the gaping hole
in her body. The hole rapidly expanded until Stacy was in two pieces, her
head and arms floating in the air in defiance of gravity. Kyle watched
helplessly as Stacy continued to dissolve, until all that was left were her
head and her feet. She looked hopelessly at Kyle, tears streaming down
her face. Then she was gone.
"You bastard!" Kyle pulled a pistol from his coat pocket and fired.
The bullets bounced off an invisible barrier. Zen fired back, and the gun
was gone, along with Kyle's hand. He stared in horror as his arm slowly
began to dissolve from the end up. "What are you?" he asked. "WHAT ARE
YOU?!"
Zen's only response was to shoot him.
-- END PROLOGUE --