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Finn Maisy looked at the elephant's head with pride. It was the newest addition to his collection. He placed it in the predetermined spot with ease, then stepped back and looked around the room. It was a very large room, roughly forty by seventy feet. The oak looking walls were covered with animal heads of all shapes and sizes. Here was a lion, there a grizzly bear, and in one spot he even had the jaws of a great white shark. He had caught or killed everything himself. Hunting was Finn's life, and it was something he did very well. Sometimes, though, he did it too well.
His maid walked into the room. "Yes, Maria?" he said, his tenor voice ringing clearly in the room.
"Telephone, sir," said the short, plump, middle aged maid.
"Who is it?"
"They wouldn't say, but is sounds important."
"Alright, I'll take it in here." That was Maria's signal to leave. She knew she wasn't allowed to stay near Finn when he was on the phone, and though she often wondered about these mysterious phone calls, and how exactly her employer earned the money he was never short of, her salary was enough to keep her at bay. Finn's system was one of no warning: you broke the rules once and you were fired.
Finn sat his six foot four, muscular two hundred ten pound frame down in his chair after Maria was gone, brushed his thick, black hair from his forehead with his tanned, calloused hand, then picked up the phone. "Hello?" There was a pause while the person on the other end spoke. "All right, I think I can handle it. What are the time parameters?" His handsome yet hard and dark face twitched a little at the answer. "Okay. How do you want it done, an accident?" A short pause. "All right." He listened to the caller for a moment, then responded, "My price? Normally for something like this it would be two hundred fifty grand, but because I owe you one, I'll do it for one hundred twenty five grand, prepaid like always." There was a brief silence, then Finn exploded. "What?! You're not going to prepay? Well, it'd better be here when I get back." After another short pause, he hung up.
He sat still for a moment, then began to whistle, despite his anger at not being prepaid. It was about time he got some more real work.
"Look, just . . . just give me a chance here! I know, I know, the last one was no good, but that was the last one, just give me some time. This is-" Jack Willer looked at the dead phone in his hand, frustrated. "Oh well," he sighed. He turned back to his work.
Willer watched the mass of metal and wires nervously. He was about six feet, two inches tall, with straight, light brown hair, misty blue eyes, and large, green-rimmed glasses. He was skinny, but didn't appear unhealthy.
Willer was in what used to be a garage in the small town of Condon, Montana "Come on . . . come on . . . you can do it," he muttered, waiting for the elements in the machine to reach the proper pressure and temperature. If it worked and he could get it publicized, he would be famous. If it didn't work . . . well, it would be back to the drawing board.
The machine was designed to be a replicator, so good that every last detail would be replicated. Jewelers would be one of many occupations that might be interested. Put a diamond in, get two out. Of course, some collectors might not be too happy with it, he reflected wryly, then his mind turned back to the task at hand. This was the most crucial part.
He snapped his gloves over his hands and secured his eye protection, then picked up the three inch pine twig he had found outside. He placed it in the small slot, then slid the reinforced glass down and sealed it. Well, here goes nothing. He hit the switch and watched the twig and all that happened to it intently.
"So far, so good," he muttered to himself as he watched the red sensor laser traverse the length of the twig. His eyes twitched nervously between the slot where the stick was, and the slot where the new stick was supposed to appear. "Yes . . . yes," he was getting excited now, for he saw the vague outline of a twig in the formerly empty slot. And then everything went wrong.
The new stick disappeared, which wasn't too bad, but when Jack looked at the original stick, it was gone! He smelled something funny, and tried to place it. When he did, he wished he hadn't. Smoke! Oh no! He jumped back, but not quite in time to fully escape the small explosion that shook the cans, bottles, and beakers on the shelves.
Jack writhed in pain, clutching his face in agony. This hadn't turned out quite right.
Thirty four year-old Elisa Searle looked out the window of her medium sized cabin in the Rocky Mountains she kneaded the bread dough. It was a gorgeous spring day out. The sky was blue, with wisps of clouds here and there, the grass was green, the flowers were blooming, and everything was just about perfect.
Elisa took off her apron and set it on a chair, determined to take a walk before she let any more of the picture perfect day slip between her fingers. She slid her shoes off and walked out the door. The sun shone glistened off her dark brown hair, and every once in a while, a highlight of auburn could be glimpsed.
She walked slowly, liking the feel of the forest grass on her feet, and basking in the warmth of the sun. She strolled into the shade of a grove of pine trees and sat down, regretting that she hadn't thought to bring a book, but feeling too lazy to walk the three hundred odd yards back to her home. Elisa leaned her head against a tree, and let her eyes close, slowly drifting off into a comfortable sleep, with pleasant dreams of life before her husband had died in a bizarre car crash.
Eldwon listened carefully for Tilsors as he awoke, but on hearing none, he opened his eyes slowly, blinking to let them adjust to the bright light, then scanning the area as best he could from his prone position without moving his head. Still no sign of any Tilsors . . . yet. His right arm and wing ached terribly. He got to his knees, wincing at the pain, but making no sound. He looked his arm over: a bad blaster burn, but not as severe a wound as it might of been had his wing not been there. He extended his right wing, a cold sweat breaking out on his face as he did so. He grimaced when he saw the injury. It was a hole, probably six inches in diameter, and the feathers around it were singed. Well, at least that will heal. I was afraid something much more drastic had happened, like they had burned the entire wing off. I guess whoever shot that one at me didn't have much time to charge his weapon.
He took the time now to survey his surroundings. What in the world? I've never seen trees like this, if that's what they are. And so noisy! Well, I guess I'm just used to the sounds the trees back home make, wherever back home is. He concentrated for a moment to tune out the noise of the trees. There, much better. He stood up and walked to a tree, curious at their rough skin. A sudden rush of blood to his head almost made him pass out, but he leaned against the tree, his wings now matching the color of the bark, and let the spell pass. He set out walking.
He hadn't gone far when he heard breathing. He crouched cautiously, trying to place where and what it came from. It's in the direction that I'm headed, but I can't place what it is. It's not a Tilsor, their breathing is much more shallow and labored. This . . . thing sounds like it's asleep, so maybe I can get close enough to observe it, without it knowing I'm here.
He crept forward, making no more sound than a feather falling to the ground. His wings continually blended with the background, and his light armor that he wore over his torso did the same.
There. There it is, on the other side of that tree. He eased forward, and cautiously circumvented the tree. He was startled by what he saw there. It was a female, but somewhat different than any he had seen. She was about five six. Her feet, he could tell, had no joints allowing them to bend and grasp like his, no back toes, and they were a different texture, somehow the surface appeared much more smooth and soft. Her hands, too were different. They were soft and delicate, whereas his, and the hands of females of his race, were hard and extremely strong. Most could crush any kind of stone in varying degrees of difficulty with granite being one of the hardest, and some or the extremely strong ones could crush granite like it was a dirt clod. Her hair and face was basically the same, though prettier than the average female Elcorian. She had no wings, he could tell, and she had no hair on her legs. Her arms had a little bit, but nothing like the almost down-like covering familiar to most Elcors.
He hesitated, vacillating between running and waking her up. If he ran, she would never know he had been here, and then no one else in this strange new world, for he realized that it was not his own planet, would find out, and he might be safe until he could find a way to get back. On the other hand, if he woke her, she might be able to help him. Of course, she could very well freak out and run off, telling others of her race about some winged being, and that wouldn't be good.
As he stood there contemplating, he heard a slight change in her breathing, and he knew his decision was made for him.
Elisa looked up slowly through half shut eyes, aware of someone standing near her head. Gasping, she sat up abruptly when she saw him. He was very . . . different. His feet each had four toes in front and three in back. All were about a half an inch longer than her own, and all had half inch, claw-like nails. His fingernails were the same. His skin was covered with down-like hair, except for the skin on his feet and hands. These appeared almost calloused, but it wasn't quite that. She could just tell that it was somehow much harder than her skin, and the rest of his.
He wore what looked like a sleeveless vest that seemed to change colors now and again, and a pair of pants cut at the knee that appeared to be made from the hide of an animal of some sort, but what she couldn't tell. The vest would always change to a color that would blend with whatever his surroundings were. Brown by trees, green by grass, and so on. The most curious color though, was one she couldn't describe. It somehow seemed to be the color of, well, the space around her, a yellow, white sort of thing. While she could still tell where his vest was, it was hard, and she knew that one of the primary reasons for her noticing the vest was because she could see him. The other reason was the streaks of mud on it. There was nothing unusual about the pants, other than the material they were made from and they were smeared with mud.
He was, she noted, about six feet tall. His face was angular and narrow, yet somehow rather handsome. His eyes were sea green, with a gaze so sharp it seemed to penetrate her skin. She couldn't tell what color his "fur" or shoulder length hair was due to the mud, but from what she could see, she guessed his fur at least to be blond. Muscularly he was not particularly large, but he was very defined, and it was quite apparent that he was strong.
"You're hurt!" she exclaimed when she saw the burn on his arm. She stood up quickly to look at it, but Eldwon stepped quickly away, his wings extending halfway. Elisa took a step back in shock. This was too much. Aside from all else, this creature had wings, and ones that changed color? She was about to scream when she saw the hole in his wing, and her pity arose once more. She would try to help him; after all, he didn't seem to be armed.
"Please," she said calmly, "you're hurt. I'll help you, if you'll let me."
Eldwon eyed Elisa warily. What is she saying? I can't understand her. Still, her voice isn't threatening, and I'm not hearing any panicked or angry signals, although when she saw my wings she was a little taken aback. Besides, if she turns on me, I always have my whip, though I don't think I would actually use it on her.
"Your wing is hurt very bad," she said, pointing. Eldwon listened intently, trying to start learning the language.
He pointed to himself and very slowly said, "Eldwon." It came out hoarse and dry, a relic of having no water for the past forty eight hours at least; he didn't know how long he had been unconscious.
"Eldwon?" she asked, making sure she had gotten it right. The Elcor nodded. Elisa pointed to herself. "Elisa," she said. Her voice was somehow musical and sweet.
"Elisa," he managed to struggle out. Elisa guessed at his trouble, and motioned for him to stay where he was, hoping he would understand. She ran back to the house and burst through the door. Hastily opening the cupboard, she snatched a cup and filled it with water. Her return trip was much slower because she didn't want to spill the water. When she got back to the spot, however, he was nowhere to be seen. Nor were there any footprints.
Did I just dream the whole thing up? I couldn't have, though. If I had, I wouldn't be standing here with a cup of water . . . would I?
She set the cup down and searched the immediate area, but didn't find anything. Oh well. I guess he's gone. She went to pick up the cup, but it had disappeared! What?! Where is it? She glanced around, but didn't see anything. At least I know I wasn't dreaming. I'll leave him be . . . for now. She turned around and slowly walked to her house, hoping he would turn up, but he didn't. She went back to her bread dough, putting it into the pans, but all the while watching the windows.
The ambulance screeched to a stop, the EMT's opening the doors and grabbing the gurney almost before it had come to a complete standstill. They wheeled the injured man into the emergency room where the doctors checked him out. He was suffering from smoke inhalation, three degree burns on his face and parts of his body, and apparently there was some sort of chemical burn or reaction, but the effects of that didn't seem too severe.
After six hours of surgery, the doctors were finally finished reconstructing his face. It was as good as they could get it, but it wasn't perfect. Jack Willer would have burn marks on his face for the rest of his life.
Any comments? Ideas? Suggestions? This story isn't finished yet . . . your suggestions could make a difference in what happens! =) Also, if you would like to see more . . . BEFORE I put it on the web (and yes, there is more =), or if you have a suggestion, then mail me! =)
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