Bruce Cairn rambled on aimlessly about the stars, a milky white veil, and his wife who had died seven years earlier. Fevered and sweating, he thrashed wildly about in bed. As tumultuous as Bruce, the night outside was angry with piercing winds, bulleting rain, and a thunder that shook the house with its monstrous bellow.
His daughter, Constance, an aggressive fourteen-year-old full of fire and fearless curiosity, sat biting her nails and nervously kicking a crossed right leg in syncopation to a loud clock, her strapless sandal striking against her heel in timely beats.
His son, Gabriel, a thirteen-year-old creator of comic characters and a bloodhound for anything scientific and mathematical, sat rigid and motionless against an equally stiff and wooden high back chair. Both children were rife with nerves from the erratic behavior of their father and the tempestuous weather. Bruce was a flurry of incoherent drivel while the weather was flux with uncontrollable agitation. The combination rattled the children's calm.
Constance watched her thirty-nine-year-old father, handsome still but frail, painfully thin, and wasting away. His bright blue eyes had become sunken, hollow, and pale while his head of full black hair had become thin and lacking any sheen. When he had his health, his looks outweighed any other man. She had inherited her father's striking silver blue eyes and thick, curly black hair and wore her hair loose, long, and wild, just like she was. Bruce had been athletically active in his youth and these are traits Constance inherited. She was competitive, strong, determined, and fearless. A natural athlete, she mastered many a sport but adored anything to do with water. A daily ritual saw her swimming two miles in the sea just across the country road and down the gully from the Cairn front porch. Her physique proved her discipline and steadfastness for she was lean and muscular. Her physical strength matched her mental and emotional fervor but she lived life by instinct and intuition.
Gabriel inherited his mother's beautiful almond-shaped eyes, her slightly wavy, white blonde hair, and a skin tone that took well to the sun. He had taken on an appetite for constant reading and that was also one of Kate's passions. Though gifted in aggressive sports, he had a fondness for quieter hobbies like creating and drawing his comic characters and making up stories created around their caricatures. He, too, adored swimming and it wasn't unusual to find him stroking alongside Constance in the sea. Competitive, she would egg him into a race under the guise of fun, but he'd grown to match his sister's five-foot-five-frame so beating him in the free swim was a harder quest for Constance, which she loved. She hated losing and was known for throwing her temper if she did.
"He's saying something about the stars," Constance whispered.
Gabriel nodded.
"About mom, too," she added.
Gabriel nodded.
"It scares me seeing him like this," she admitted.
Softly petting him like he was a kitten, she laid her hand on Bruce's damp, hot forehead in hopes of pacifying his edgy behavior. It worked. His inconsistent gestures quieted and his belligerence mellowed into dim, uncomfortable moans. Concern obvious on their tired faces, the children each held one of their father's hands. Eventually, Bruce succumbed to sleep while they nodded off in chairs slid near to his bed.
The night passed quietly and come morning thunderstorms still grumbled like a hungry stomach while the lightening shocked the sky deep in the horizon. Constance thought it looked stunning, peering through the window. She turned on the kitchen light, prepared some coffee, and a breakfast of juice, toast, and fruit. Setting the breakfast tray on the end table nearest her father's bed, she noticed Gabriel still clinging to Bruce's hand. He must have held it the night long.
It was cancer that ravaged Bruce. By the time he went to the doctor to check on his increasing weight loss and growing ailments, the prognosis was distressing. The cancer had spread to several areas of his body and was too enraged to treat. That was only four months ago.
Kate Cairn had died seven years earlier at the age of thirty. Her sister Nann died alongside Kate. She was twenty-seven-years-old. Now, death hovered overhead once again threatening to take their father.
Only seven years old when Kate Cairn died, the little Constance remembered about her was her voice and laughter. The two popped into her head at unprompted moments. She scoured photographs to remember her mother's calming smile and in rare moments for him, she would listen to her father reminisce about Kate.
Sometimes, she would see Bruce staring at a particular picture of Kate that especially revealed her beauty and peaceful demeanor. She'd had blond, wavy hair that billowed down her back like a cloak of white gold. Her eyes were large, almond-shaped, and sparkled like a sunlit, calm green pond. Kate had been slender, graceful, and smelled like the fresh sea mist that blessed the peaceful mornings. Sometimes, Kate's love seemed so near Constance that she felt her mother must be alive. When she walked into the bright, airy kitchen, she was sure Kate would be there preparing a biscuit or tea. In reality, her mother seemed a beautiful fairy tale that once lived long, long ago.
She heard Gabriel stir and watched him for signs of awakening.
"I made some toast," she whispered.
He didn't respond but with the opening of one exhausted eye that inadvertently shut again.
"There's juice and coffee, too. It's eight-thirty," she told him.
Gabriel shifted in his chair and pulled the blue and green lambs wool throw around his shoulders for warmth. "It's cold," he mumbled.
"The storm is letting up," Constance informed him as she peeked around the curtain looking out the window.
Gabriel opened his eyes. "Is it still raining?"
"Yeah, but not like last night."
"Dad's still sleeping," he observed.
Bruce looked dead.
"I wish he'd move, but I don't want to wake him, either, y'know?"
Gabriel nodded as Constance watched his eyes slowly close again. She looked at her father.
"I can see him breathing, though," she whispered more to herself than to Gabriel as she watched the near non-existent rising and lowering of her father's chest.
Chapter 2
"What will we do?" Gabriel asked as he rolled an orange back and forth from hand to hand on the kitchen table.
"I don't know where we'll go," Constance answered. "I hope we can stay here."
"Are you sure Dad is going to die, Stance?" Gabriel asked knowing the answer full well.
"Yes," she responded sadly.
"Can you tell when?"
Gabriel stood and turned toward the kitchen window that looked out on the beautiful landscape of the endless sea. Two seals did playful turns through the low waves. His sadness had no place among them. They were happy with their lot in the sea tolling, turning, and playing. They didn't know about his aching pain and that his father lie dying only moments from death. He watched their spirited play and ached to run away to the sea and join them. Wouldn't it be lovely to swim away feeling free and playful like the seals? He did not feel free, nor did he feel joyous. He felt sad and hopeless. Scared, too. His sister's voice retrieved him from his gray thoughts.
"I can't tell when," she said. "He's been sleeping for days straight now. Except for last night's ranting, he hasn't spoken a word all week. He's lost so much weight, a stunning thing since he has no weight to lose. He doesn't eat; he doesn't drink but sips every now and then, mostly because we force him to. He can't even let us know when he needs to use the toilet. He's hallucinating or delirious or something. I can't say when, but it can't be too much further away."
"We can stay here, can't we, since it's our home?" Gabriel asked fearful of being put out of home.
"I think we can't live here by ourselves. They'll say we're too young. How will we pay bills? How will we get food?"
"I can get a job," Gabriel quickly stated knowing it was a false hope.
"Worst is I think Uncle Billy will be big trouble once he finds out Dad's been sleeping all these days straight. He's already been waiting for Dad to die. He's such a vulture."
"What about Aunt Sis?" Gabriel suggested. "Maybe we can live with her."
"Maybe," Constance shrugged. "She's got her hands full with her own family, especially Rocco. He's a troublemaker."
Gabriel walked to the window to watch the seals. They swam further and further out to sea until he could no longer see them. Constance stood from her chair and walked over to Gabriel and put her arm around him. They both stared dreamily at the gently rolling sea. Gulls squawked. Herons dove for fish. A light breeze entered through the screened window. Constance sighed heavily.
"It's so beautiful here," she said wearily as she sat down at the table sinking her chin into the palms of her hands.
"Kate?"
Startled, the kids looked at one another.
"Kate? Are you there?"
"It's Dad!" Constance thrilled as she dashed into the bedroom with Gabriel on her heels.
"Dad! You're awake!" Gabriel said as he sat on the bed next to his father.
"Where is your mother?" Bruce asked confused. "She was just here singing to me."
The kids looked at one another.
"Mom's been gone a long time, Dad," Constance told him.
"Nonsense," he replied perturbed. "She was just here singing to me. Where did she go? Where am I?"
"You're at home," Constance assured him putting her hand on top of his. He looked at it.
Bruce propped his head up as if to get a better look but dropped it back onto the pillow for lack of strength. He sighed deeply and painfully. "I feel very tired. I'm so thirsty."
Gabriel helped him to the glass of water on the end table.
"How long have I been sleeping?"
"Days on end," Gabriel said.
"Days on end," Bruce repeated. "That isn't possible." He looked around the room as if it were a strange place. "Where's Kate's picture?"
Constance grabbed it from atop the dresser and handed the bark framed photo to her father. He stared at the picture for the longest time. The kids watched and waited for his response.
"I was just with her," he said confused. "She was singing to me."
Bruce tried to reposition himself with little luck. Constance quickly arranged some pillows behind his back as Gabriel leaned him forward.
"Thank you," he responded with a tired but loving smile. "Come closer to me and sit down on the bed," he instructed Constance. "I have to tell you something very important. Come on then." He patted the bed with his weak hand.
"Are you hungry, Dad?" Constance hoped.
He shook his head and grimaced at the thought of food.
"I don't know how to tell you this," he spoke slowly and so faintly the kids had to strain to hear. "Your mother and Nann are not dead. I don't think they are, anyhow. I'm not sure."
Gabriel and Constance were astonished.
"What?" Constance asked in disbelief.
"They weren't in a plane crash. They didn't die in a plane crash like I told you. I told you they died in a plane crash because I didn't know how to explain what happened to them. It was a deliberate lie," he stated rubbing his head. "I still don't know how to explain."
"Is Mom alive?" Gabriel asked looking to Constance with hope.
Watching her father, Constance remained controlled and curious. She felt hope but also a resentment rising.
"I don't know. In my heart, I think she is. I've always felt Kate is still alive. The chances are remote after seven years, but I hope."
"If Mom wasn't killed in a plane crash like you said, and you think she's still alive, then where is she?" Constance questioned with a bitter tone.
"You see, there's this star," Bruce began as he pointed to the window. "Gabriel, please open that window a crack. Let some air in. It's hard to breathe."
Gabriel obliged as he and Constance eyed one another recalling the previous night and Bruce's hallucinations and banter about stars and a milky white veil.
"Remember in the summertime gazing up into the sky as we've done all these years, seeing all the beauty of space? Can you recall how much your mother loved the sky, how she loved the stars?"
"Yes," Gabriel said as Constance nodded.
Bruce took a tiny sip of water. "Well, long, long ago, when human beings were just beginning to emerge as a sure effective strength on the planet, it was clear among the higher forces that without a secure plan of virtues humans would quickly run amok. It's been said that the basic nature of humankind is love."
He shook his head to quell the dizziness that weakened him. Constance watched him with a piercing stare.
"It can be a true thing, see, but for every emotion of love and kindness lies the deterring alter egos of selfishness and greed. Earth is a planet of dualities and extremities. Humans are rife with the two. We can't seem to get it in our heads that choice is the blessing. Acceptance, too. We opt to decide we have little choice in matters. No doubt there are factors that bring us to our problems and the factors are oftentimes ugly creatures that initially look charming."
The children eyed one another. Constance shrugged her shoulders at Gabriel indicating confusion. Gabriel responded with a buckled brow.
"In an attempt to stifle the lesser emotions of humans the higher forces created a star called the Virtue Star. From every point on earth and every point from any point in any universe, the Virtue Star shines like no other but only to those with truth and sincerity in their hearts. Its light cradles all of life. Earth is in the galaxy Milky Way. This is important. Pay attention. Hear me?"
"Yes," Gabriel responded for them both.
"The Milky Way is a spiral galaxy. Now, what that means is that its shape resembles that of a spiral disk when looked at through a proper telescope. It spans over a hundred thousand light years and is approximately three thousand light years thick. To give you an image it's longer than it is wide. You know this. Do you remember what light years are, Constance?"
"Why are you telling us this? Where's Mom? What does the Milky Way have to do with Mom?" she responded abruptly and curtly.
"Tell me, Constance, do you remember what a light year is?"
"It's a unit used in measuring stellar miles," Gabriel answered. "It's a bridge or vacuum of light whose travel spans 5.88 trillion miles."
"Thank you, Gabriel. I know you know, but Constance, you must get alert," Bruce said mustering up a bit of impatience toward his daughter. "You understand it's a great distance to travel, if one could travel that vacuum of light. Hand me a pencil and paper, please."
He drew a picture of the disk of the Milky Way and the spiral arms that float and curve outwardly from its body.
"The disk of the Milky Way consists of spiral arms that extend out from the central bar of the galaxy's center. We can compare the disk to the human body and the central bar as the human heart with the spiral arms being our arms and legs, okay?"
"Okay," Gabriel smiled as if playing a game.
"Understand, Constance?" Bruce asked well aware of the anger seething in her. "I don't blame you for being upset with me."
"Where is Mom, Dad? What happened to her?" Constance bit her lip to hide her fury.
"I'm getting to it, honey, do you understand the comparison of our bodies to the body of the Milky Way?"
"Yes," she snapped.
"Within these spiral arms that float outwardly curving from the central bar of the Milky Way are millions of very young stars, let's compare them to the ages of human infancy to three years of age, so you have an idea. Their color is blindingly white with a pulsating blue tint that outlines their five-point-bodies. This blue outline is extremely important. It indicates they're going to be fighters, these young stars are. They're fearless and experimental. Daring and ambitious. They're determined and aggressive. They're also very protective of life and determined toward good. They're called Defters.
"These spiral arms that float out from the central bar of the galaxy consist of something else, too. They consist of giant gas clouds that produce and release various forms of vapors, depending on the deed or dilemma with which they are confronted. These gas clouds also continually spawn out new suns. Countless new suns. Suns just like the sun that warms earth, but the Milky Way's suns are detectors. Each sun spins and rotates displaying a thousand eyes of radar that vary in color. Red for aggressiveness or danger, purple for passivity, brown for positioning of construction or destruction, green for hands-on construction or destruction, yellow for retreat, orange for calm, midnight blue for peace, pink for creativity, creation, and sensuality, and electric blue for spiritual connection with the GEOUM.
"When you look up to the sky at night and see stars that twinkle with these colors that
reflect off the spinning suns, you'll now know what these colors represent. These spiral arms are
monitoring and detecting anything out-of-the-ordinary that attempts to enter the Milky Way and
anything out-of-the-ordinary has little chance to get beyond them and into the bulge. But, it's been done.
"One life force, unfortunately an evil one, has partially succeeded in its quest to penetrate the spiral arms, maneuver between the spinning suns, and get beyond the paralyzing and killing gas clouds. This evil force has yet to be located and annihilated. It has not yet penetrated the bulge. We must see that it doesn't get that far. God help us, if it does."
Constance and Gabriel stared at their father with puzzled looks. Bruce could tell they weren't sure what to make of his painstaking attempt to enlighten them to their mother's whereabouts.
"The center of the Milky Way disk is called the Bulge," he continued. "You have the central bar, see, then you have the spiral arms that float outwardly from the central bar, see? Now, we have the Bulge that I will liken to a womb. The Bulge is like a womb that thickly consists of older stars that are a brilliant, deep, deep yellow, like an egg yolk. The spiral arms of stars, the spinning suns, and the spawning clouds honor these older stars and are in constant parade to protect them.
"The Bulge harbors the Stars of Wisdom. The Stars of Wisdom hold incredible power and are of enormous importance. They, too, are five-point-stars but produce a stunning lavender glow about their bodies. They have a tremendous responsibility for deep within the womb of the Stars of Wisdom lives the Virtue Star.
"The Virtue Star has seven peaks. It is a brilliant and effervescent pale pink whereupon each tip burns the fire of justice. It isn't an actual fire, but an energy said to be so powerful it looks like a halo of fire spilling out of the top of each point. Of all things for which humans strive, this, the Virtue Star, should be the first. But, greed blinds us. It is the greatest gift to humankind, but incredibly, most people know nothing about its existence. All other stars live and die to protect the Virtue Star. It must be this way. A thing people don't know is that without the Virtue Star survival for humanity is not a possibility."
Bruce looked at his children for verbal reaction, but they stared at him in awe as though he were a fantastic storyteller and waited for him to carry on. He desperately needed them to grasp what he was trying to get across. Breathing in quick pants and clearly exhausted, he continued.
"When humans see a shooting star, we oooh and aaah the burning star and even make a wish on it. It does look romantic, but in truth, a shooting star is a star that has given its life to protect the Virtue Star, thereby protecting the human race. Everything, all that I've told you of: the central bar, the spiral stars, the spinning suns, the spawning clouds, the Stars of Wisdom, the Bulge, and the Virtue Star are all sheathed within the Supreme Halo.
"The Supreme Halo consists of the oldest stars and globular clusters. You can imagine the star clusters to be family packs, then, see? Fathers, mothers, aunts, uncles, cousins, sisters, brothers, see? The clusters ramble about the skies like silver balls in a pinball machine. They are fearless warriors and will deliberately hurl themselves into the enemy to obliterate the terrorist without notice, like a kamikaze fighter. They ceaselessly move wildly within space.
"Like a family, they stick together through thick and thin, just like we have. The Supreme Halo spans three-hundred-thousand-light-years from the center. What's a light year, Constance?"
"It's a unit to measure the span of light," she responded dryly.
Gabriel shook his head. "It's a unit used to measure stellar miles."
"It travels real fast," she continued giving Gabriel a dirty look.
Correcting her, he stated, "It travels very far."
The children's competitive bicker caused Bruce to laugh. Happy to see him smiling, the kids responded likewise.
"I'm so tired," Bruce complained. "You can imagine the power and the necessity to keep that power in its proper place and free of evil. Help me lie back down. I'm exhausted and cold."
They assisted him and Constance pulled the covers up to his chin, tucking the blanket around his neck to keep out the cold, though she knew the room was quite warm.
"Understand that though the Virtue Star's power is massive and directed toward all things good, like all things good and grand its power is desired by the greedy who seek to harness it for reasons that clearly are not good or beneficial to humankind. My head is pounding. I'm freezing. My chest feels like an elephant is sitting on me. It's hard to breathe."
"Don't go to sleep, Dad," Gabriel said forcefully. "Try to stay awake."
Bruce's eyes were already shut and his breathing reduced to short, quick pants.
"You need to reach the Virtue Star," he said weakly. "Each peak of the star represents a virtue. Enter and learn. One virtue cannot stand alone without the others. To learn is to progress yourselves and humanity and you all must prepare for a very rude awakening."
"Stance, I'm scared," Gabriel fretted. "Make Dad stay awake."
"Dad, where's Mom? Tell me," Constance pleaded.
"The brain, the emotions, and the soul are connected in all thought and action and determine the consequences of all we do individually and universally. If one falters, we all falter."
"What does he mean, Stance,?" Gabriel asked annoyed.
Frustrated, she could only shrug her shoulders to answer.
"I thought I was being clear," Bruce whispered. "I have to sleep. I want to see Kate, be with Kate."
"Where?" Constance was torn.
She could see her father needed rest, but she was afraid if he fell to sleep he wouldn't wake up again. His face had a deathly gray about it and his breathing was in short spurts.
"Dad, please tell me where Mom is? What does Mom have to do with the Virtue Star?"
"Now you understand," he smiled faintly.
"No I don't!" she practically yelled, angry with his not being clear to them.
"Kate," he whispered.
"Dad, don't sleep," Gabriel begged him as he gently shook Bruce. "Stay awake."
"He's in the black hole."
"Who? Who's in the black hole? What are you talking about?" Constance became suddenly calm and soft-spoken.
"I love you, Constance. Strong and intuitive. Aggressive. Determined. Curious. Too foolhardy to be frightened. A strong leader. You will serve well."
"Serve?" she questioned. "Serve who?"
Constance looked at Gabriel. He was crying uncontrollably. She couldn't cry. She wanted to understand her father but he made no sense.
"Gabriel, I love you, son."
Gabriel held his father's hand.
"Your talents will serve you well. Steadfastness. Solid thinking. Calculating. These will map your way. Your ability for memory will save you time and again. Your calm will be needed to steady your sister's difficult tasks. Your imagination is keen. Use it. Rely on it."
"I don't understand, Dad," Gabriel wept.
"What about Mom?" Constance calmly repeated. "Where is she?"
"They'll try to separate the two of you. Don't let them. That would be dangerous for you."
"Dad, don't sleep," Gabriel cried. "No more sleeping. You can't be sleeping."
He repeated it over and over again for several minutes until Constance took him into her arms to comfort him. Tearing away from her and sobbing, he fell to the bed laying his head upon his father's chest. Constance stood emotionless and tearless.
"How do we find the Virtue Star?" she whispered to her father now breathless and dead.
(Stay tuned for Chapter 3)
