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Return of the Kachinas
By Margaret Vivienne Currie Balboa Press
Copyright © 2014 Margaret Vivienne Currie
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4525-1342-3
CHAPTER 1
My thoughts were in turmoil as I negotiated the traffic lanes in Wiri Station Road. Why had I allowed my curiosity to overrule my common sense? I found myself driving into the west parking lot of Westfield's Manukau City shopping centre when I really wanted to spend this warm November morning peacefully working on my current novel.
After parking my car, I walked on legs of lead to the main entrance. What am I doing here? This is so ridiculous. I sighed and picked up my pace as an opposing thought argued, You agreed to this meeting. It's too late to back out now. I continued nervously wondering what I had let myself become involved in.
As I entered through the self-operating doors, I could see a blond-haired man who fit the description I had been given, although for someone supposedly my age, he had a young physique. He sat completely relaxed on one of the dark-blue seats arranged as a waiting area, while amusing himself watching the passing parade of shoppers. Is this really Mevron Hordea? It must be. He fits the description I was given.
My editor, Sally, had said he was tall and wore his blond hair in a short plait at the back of his head. "He's not your average guy but absolutely charming, and he wants to meet you," she had confided.
My ego had been stroked by her offhand comment about this man having read everything I had ever written, yet I remained suspicious of why he wanted to meet me.
Although Sally had not met Mevron personally, her friend said he met with this strange man usually in isolated venues, because he feared his public status could be fodder for the scandal rags. That could well be material for a very exciting novel.
As easily as that, I was hooked. I can't believe my lack of caution. At least I had the good sense to make a stipulation. Our meeting was to be in a very public place. At sixty, I had become wary of blind dates arranged by well-meaning friends.
"Hello, Abigail," said the tall man as he rose from his seat to tower head and shoulders above me. "Will we sit here, or would you prefer a drink and something to eat while we talk?"
Strange, I can't place his accent.
"Here will be fine. And no, Mevron, thank you, I had a coffee before I left home."
"Then let us be seated." He smiled, and his amazing hazel eyes danced with amusement. "I would prefer to be called Hordea. It sounds more friendly, don't you agree?"
I smiled brightly to hide my ignorance, as both names were foreign sounding.
"Have you lived long in New Zealand?" I asked in an attempt to break the awful formality.
"No, not long at all." He shifted his tall frame towards me a little more. "I have a confession to make, which needs to be said so I can converse with you openly."
"Go on," I said crossly, becoming suspicious of his motives for this meeting.
"I have read all your books and was impressed by your sensitivity to human and ecological issues. When I learned my friend knew a friend of yours, I was delighted. I urged him to arrange this meeting. I believe we can help each other."
"In what way?" I demanded. It was a well-used line I had heard many times before. In spite of my irritation, there was something about this man that prevented me ending the meeting and storming off in anger.
"I'm a botanist with knowledge of differing soils and regeneration of forests, even those devastated by nuclear fallout."
"Incredible!" He had my whole attention. "How is it that this breakthrough is not public knowledge?"
"Because it is knowledge gained from the mistakes of far older civilisations than those of Earth."
For some seconds, I remained silent as I attempted to equate his serious demeanour with the extraordinary claim he'd just made. "You're seriously telling me you have been to other planets?"
"Yes, Abigail, I am serious. I can prove it, if you are willing to take that risk."
The tension of indecision in me was incredible. Should I accept this man at face value with such an outlandish claim or end this meeting and leave immediately? In my turmoil, I became aware of a deep regard for this stranger that won over my rationality. "Show me your proof," I demanded.
He smiled and his whole face lit. "Thank you, Abigail. Thank you for your trust. I understand how difficult a decision that was."
"All right, where is this proof?" I asked a little more gently.
"There is a playing field just off your street, which my friend tells me is not in use tonight." He stroked his chin as he tried to think of the pronunciation.
"Gallaher Park," I offered.
"Yes, that's the name."
I stared at him in surprise. "What in the world can you bring to the park that can't be brought to my house in the same street?"
"Our shuttle. It would be impossible to land in the narrow street. Even if we could, the proximity of overhead power lines to our shuttle would cause devastation to the surrounding houses. On the other hand, most people would take for granted the light emission from our craft landing in the park, assuming it to be a football practice."
"You've really thought every detail through carefully. I should be flattered," I said a little caustically.
He ignored my remark. "I will call for you when we are certain it is safe. It will be at least an hour after the sun has set."
"Well, that's it," I said, feeling at a loss for words. "Can I give you a lift somewhere?"
"No, thank you. I will wait for my friend, who is somewhere in this shopping centre."
I bid him farewell and hurried back to my car.
By the time I reached home, it was clear any serious work on my current novel would have to be suspended, so unsettling was this strange turning point in my life. I filled the rest of the day with spring cleaning, baking, and ironing—anything physical to keep my mind from dwelling too deeply on the coming event.
It was after nine before the knock sounded on my door. There stood Hordea, simply dressed in a navy polo shirt and fawn cotton slacks. On his feet, he wore oatmeal canvas deck shoes. "Are you ready to come with me now?"
"Yes, I think so, even though I must admit to feeling extremely nervous about letting you take me to the park at night."
"I understand how you feel," he said as he took my arm. It was a most natural gesture. His closeness somehow boosted my floundering courage as we walked down McAnnalley Street towards Gallaher Park.
Turning into the narrow lane off Fleming Street, I let Hordea go first, as I needed to decide my own pace. The light from the still unseen vehicle lit the field as brightly as when a night game was in progress. I couldn't help smiling at his daring stratagem.
There it was: the promised evidence. Although, over the years I'd seen odd, out-of-focus photos of UFOs, nothing prepared me for its size, or its beauty. It was huge—higher and wider than any of the surrounding houses.
Suddenly, a doorway appeared in its surface. I stumbled back in fright as an auburn-haired young man in a silver jumpsuit came into view.
Hordea took my arm again. "We dare not stay too long, as your authorities will have monitored our landing."
"I understand that, Hordea, and I'm grateful for this daring proof. Now go quickly! I will find my own way home." I feared our authorities would soon be surrounding this field with the main airport only ten minutes away by car.
"Would you like to see Earth from space?"
Hordea had thrown me a carrot I couldn't refuse. I envied the younger generation who had had the opportunity to become astronauts.
"Yes, I'd love to," I heard myself say. "Do you mean now?"
"Yes, now."
Without considering the danger I might be placing myself in, I followed Hordea into the interior of his wonderful machine. The young man had already seated himself at a large middle screen covered in lines, curves, and hieroglyphs flashing on and off in sequence. There seemed to be two side screens, which at that moment were not operational.
We sat in comfortable seats around the perimeter of a huge, circular, dark, shiny section of floor. The door closed and a buzzing noise, similar to that made by a swarm of bees, was the only sound the craft made. The sudden appearance of light beneath my feet caused me to look down. I was stunned to see Auckland shrinking as we sped skyward. The dark, shiny floor was a huge observation window.
Within minutes, we were gazing at a pale-green, crescent edge fading into yellow and varying shades of orange-dusted clouds moulded to the curve of Earth. Beyond this wonderful sunset, the stars spattered space like billions of bright balls of light in many sizes, no longer blurred by Earth's atmosphere.
Hordea leaned towards me. "As we dare not return to your park, we will land out of Auckland, where I have a driver waiting to take you home. Do you feel comfortable with that arrangement?"
I realised I was feeling quite safe with Hordea. If I insisted on them returning to the park, I could also find myself in trouble with the law for being in the company of illegal aliens. "Yes, of course. Will you be staying on board?"
"No, I will come back to Earth with you. There is much I need to do. I also wish to see you again to discuss with you a very serious matter."
In the excitement of his dramatic proof, I'd forgotten he wanted my help in exchange for his.
"Whenever it's convenient for you," he added.
"I can rearrange my timetable quite easily." I laughed. "The advantage of being my own boss."
It was a short trip in space. In my heart, I hoped it would not be the only visit. This small adventure had fostered a desire to see Earth's glory when bathed in full sunlight.
We landed, and as we stepped away from the vehicle, I could feel the damp grass wetting my ankles. I stumbled as I tried to follow Hordea, the brightness of the shuttle preventing me from seeing where I was going. He took my arm and guided me to a metal track. There, I turned to watch as the vehicle rose swiftly into the sky, vanishing from sight within seconds. Its speed awed me.
So engrossed by the shuttle, I failed to notice a car approaching us down the track until I heard its motor. Hordea stooped to speak to the driver, and then we both climbed into the back seat.
With no introductions, I felt extremely awkward. It had been the same with the pilot. "Hordea, I couldn't help noticing what I suppose is a cultural difference between you and me, but I'm experiencing some difficulty with it. You don't appear to bother with introductions when you have people with you who are meeting for the first time."
He remained deep in thought for a second or two. "It hasn't been necessary because our ability to sense a person's history, as we move into their energy field, is an automatic introduction. With your people here on Earth, that hasn't been sufficiently developed, which means you must quiz each other and memorise the details."
It was an unexpected answer, which left me pondering the superficiality of many of our introductions where the names fail to register for long, if at all, let alone their entire history.
I could just make out the terrain as we sped down the tar-sealed country road. It reminded me of the Hauraki Plains. Judging by the time it took to reach Manurewa, I was fairly certain it was.
I wondered if the UFOs that had recently been seen in the area could possibly have been Hordea and his pilot. It was a fanciful thought to which I paid little serious attention at the time.
Hordea turned towards me as the driver pulled up by my front gate. "Would you meet me tomorrow in the Botanical Gardens? I would like to discuss with you a serious proposition."
"At what time, and where exactly?"
"Let me give you lunch," he said, his hazel eyes sparkling. "It's a date, all right?"
I smiled too. He really was a delightful person. "In that case, I would love to have lunch with you. Will I come to the cafeteria about twelve?"
"Yes, Abigail, I will be there."
"All right then, until tomorrow. And thank you for a most exciting demonstration of proof."
The next day, I drove to the Botanical Gardens, although I suppose the walk would have been beneficial. Hordea was already seated in the clear, polythene-covered enclosure, which served as an all-weather dining area. His relaxed posture gave him the appearance of being one of us. In spite of his unusual hairdo, he had the ability to carry it off, simply because he was so relaxed.
As I entered the enclosure, he rose from his seat, his face beaming with a boyish delight. It had been a long time since I'd felt so special.
"I will choose for us while you sit here." He scanned my face with his beautiful hazel eyes. "Trust me, Abigail."
I sat rigid, overwhelmed by the feeling he had plumbed the depths of my being. Obviously, there was nothing I could hide from this man. I suppose it should have made me extremely insecure, but there was so much love in him that I instinctively knew he would never use my imperfections against me. I can't explain how I knew this, for I have never met his equivalent.
Minutes later, he returned with a tray containing two quiches, a muffin, a single pot of tea without a jug of milk, and a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. I shook my head in amazement as he handed me the mushroom quiche and the pot of tea, retaining the vegetable quiche, muffin, and juice for himself. He laughed gently as he watched my amazement.
It was a lovely meal interspersed with easy chat in a delightful setting. Huge hanging baskets of bright flowers hung inside the enclosure from white beams. Trees, flowers, and large expanses of lawn were visible through the open sections of the enclosure. Not until our meal was completed did Hordea, in sudden businesslike fashion, switch to the reason for this meeting.
"As I said at our first meeting, we have much to offer each other. Even though we are in danger from the mistakes of Earth people, we cannot take away the free will of a single person by forcing our will upon them. Therefore, we stand by ready to literally pick up the pieces. There are many foolish people whose selfish actions are condemning all." He shook his head sadly at the thought of their stupidity. "None appear to be aware of the imminent destruction of Earth. Many, like myself, are recruiting suitable candidates to arm them with the knowledge they can pass on to the survivors."
For some minutes, I remained rooted to the spot, trying to absorb this shocking assertion.
"Hordea, I'm a grandmother. My age is against me. What can I possibly offer a scattered people, perhaps badly injured or at the very least in a state of deep shock?"
"I'm not asking for talents you do not already possess. Those will be supplied by others. What I am asking of you is an account to serve as a reminder to those whose memories are short and to those who will be born into a new world. Their only knowledge of the destruction will be the stories handed down from one generation to the next, until the credibility of what is being told is lost with time. We need a record to prevent this happening."
Although I had no basis for doubting his sincerity, a part of me remained unconvinced Earth was about to be destroyed.
"We anticipated this problem of denial," he said, as he obviously had read my thoughts. "That is why we decided to hold a conference on board our mother ship, where your people can meet our great leader, who will assist you all to come to terms with this awful truth. His presence alone is healing for your life force. I would be honoured if you would accept this invitation."
Although a terrible fear crippled my normal reasoning powers, I managed to accept his invitation.
"I was sure you would agree," he said with obvious pleasure. "I will come for you by car about nine thirty this evening."
"All right, Hordea," I said as shocked numbness allowed me to relax a little. "Should I prepare for an overnight visit?"
"Several hours will be all that is required for this first visit."
First visit! That piece of information registered with a jolt to my heart.
I eventually left Hordea to wait for his driver while I returned to the car park.
In the back of my mind lurked the awful subject that I was desperately avoiding.
"Another day of physical work," I said to myself and laughed a brittle laugh. This had always been my way of coping with tension.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Return of the Kachinas by Margaret Vivienne Currie. Copyright © 2014 Margaret Vivienne Currie. Excerpted by permission of Balboa Press.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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